#initially i thought it was just a rare instance

[wyllaztopia]

2025 is coming so i let my friend @kayseeye [new agdt mod and assistant!!] clear agdt's askbox

as devastating as it was to see a bunch of creative remarks and asks go down the drain - let's be real, i won't have time to answer them with how linear the story is becoming for ease of access [goodbye 500 asks... though kacey took screenshots of drawings you guys sent in our inbox!!!]

hooowever, there's also another key reason we had to clear the inbox

[^ satire btw]

very long and convoluted psa/ramble about this matter ahead! but also slightly important and i encourage you to read it if you think about using agdt's inbox as a way to vent or share things about your irl troubles

some people treat the blog's inbox as a venting area

it doesn't really make me uncomfortable, it's just something i prefer not seeing. i don't like sharing or being shared personal information especially from an anon or a stranger

this doesn't go for just agdt - it goes for all blogs you interact with: please don't make yourself vulnerable to a stranger on the internet. you are putting yourself in a dangerous spot.

if you need escapism or help, turn to a professional or someone close - going to a stranger can go horribly wrong in two ways: you make them uncomfortable and subject them to a responsibility they never signed up for, or you let someone use your vulnerabilities and personal information against you.

i can probably count like 100 or so asks of people sharing something overly personal and asking for comfort. i don't hate it, i'm not mad, i'm just worried and i hope the people who send them become aware that they should not send those asks knowing that if they're answered, they could be answered publicly with everyone and their mama being able to see that vulnerable moment in that ask.

"just ignore them, wyll! besides, you didn't have any rules abt yo blog anyway, yo!"

nah, i'd win

can't exactly ignore them when it's been almost a year of young impressionable users over sharing to a stranger who answers asks publicly [along with the fact that i hardly see people talk about this matter when it comes to rp/ask blogs.] also so they don't do this to another askblog that has another impressionable youngin running it and publicizes asks that contain personal life info.

we don't add rules to asks on agdt because we can pick and choose which ones we answer. a set of rules isn't going to stop an asshole from breaking them so i'm not wasting my time trying to enforce one. and that's not what i'm trying to do in this post either. i'm putting this out there because i don't want people making the irrational decision of making their life and weakest moments accessible to people who want to use it against them.

i'm not trying to make a big deal out of this either. i can just skip or delete asks that i know i shouldn't answer or won't be able to. but that's my side of responsibility as someone with a platform. i want to make it clear that the audience that decides to interact with these kinds of blogs should be aware that just because you're behind a screen and concealed by an internet persona, that doesn't mean you're any safer from other people using your vulnerabilities against you.

[fullscoreshenanigans]

#also he’d totally work well as a couple with pepe #chef medic combo as parental figures later on? terrifying force smh

When this is essentially already canon

(Chapter 114)

Sandy is super underrated like.. He was the only dude allowed to help with Emma’s makeover, and he was super nice with it. Giving Emma a hairpin to help hide her ear to help her insecurities? Godtier, thank you Sandy.

Then there’s the simple fact of how supportive he is! Like seriously, the whistle to show how impressed he is with Emma’s shot is unnecessary but super wholesome.

He also just radiates positive energy, and his status as a medic probably reflects that a whole ton. Look at this face and tell me he isn’t that friendly stranger that asks if you’re okay if they saw you fall off your bike? You can’t.

In summary since this is such a small post? Sandy’s great and I love him and he’s absolutely my favorite GP kid.

[miserycanary]

MY HELL FOR YOUR LOVE ᡣ𐭩

♡⃛ ‘A Fixed Heart in Your Hand' alternative ending

pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & fem!reader

synopsis: alternative ending because I feel bad for hurting y'all

tags: hurt/COMFORT, fluff

"Sir? Sir!”

Ghost flinches as he realizes he’s been spacing out, the florist now looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. “Are you going to buy something or not?” she snaps, motioning at the display of bouquets. “Uh, yeah. Give me something with hyacinth and baby breaths,” he mutters, handing her a 100 bill. “Hyacinth? Never thought I’d see a day where a man knows a different flower aside from roses, tulips, and sunflowers,” the vendor chuckles, arranging the flowers neatly and covering them with a brown printed paper tied with a twine. “Ah,… if I know something, it’s about her.” The florist smiles, handing Ghost the bouquet and his change while saying, “Well, I can see that you love her dearly.” With a soft smirk, he replies, “That I do.”

You’ve always had a love for flowers. Going as far as to even beg him to make you a flower bed. Ghost didn’t like doing physical labor with him already getting beat from training at the base, yet when you flashed him that smile (and gave a toe-curling blowjob), how could he refuse? Since then, flowers as gifts have been rare between you two. Instances where he’d give you one are when you’re on a terrible period day or during milestones (the flowers coming from the patch he secretly planted months before).

It’s been two days since you’ve left the apartment, staying at your friend’s house, but Ghost insists on having you keep some of your stuff in the unit because, “well, you technically have ownership of the place since we shared the payment for this month.” It was a poor excuse, really, but it worked. Ghost knows you well enough to know that you haven’t broken up with him despite what you said. Leaving and staying somewhere else is something you do when you’re hurt and need space, and he knows that deep inside, you’re waiting for him. 

Don’t get him wrong. He doesn’t think you’re “easy to get” and he did really regret everything. The last 2 nights without you knocked some sense into him. The night felt colder, somber, and… lonely. Something he thought he would never complain about. I mean, this man has been through worse situations and he prefers solitude, but not if it’s solitude without you. You’re the one thing he can’t live without.

He has sent you multiple voicemails, messages, and even money as an apology. He’d always drop off by your friend’s place with some poorly attempted home-cooked meal of your favorite dishes. Sometimes he’d be able to steal a glance at you when he saw you coming up to the unit right before he arrived, sending flutters to his heart and butterflies in his stomach like a high school boy with a crush.

Now he stands by the door, hoping he’d leave the place with you in his arms, and him in your heart again. Three knocks (you always say less or more than that are for psychopaths) and a call of your name. Simon couldn’t help but chuckle when he heard your familiar cry, probably from rushing and stumbling. The wooden door cracked open, and the adrenaline that rushed through his nerves just from seeing you again could knock the man dead. He couldn’t even say anything except literally melt and give you the warmest smile. “Hi,” he softly greets, pulling the bouquet out of the paperbag and handing it to you with another gift. It was a charm... a tree bark with your initials engraved. You chuckle, pulling out the letter sticking out. 

One thing you learned about your Simon was that he’s not entirely good at conveying his feelings. I mean, that’s literally the reason for this fight. Yet he got out of his comfort zone, wrote you a fucking letter.

You look at him, tears in your eyes before jumping into his arms.

“I fucking missed you, pretty girl,” he mutters, holding you up by your ass and pressing a deep kiss on your lips. God, you taste like heaven; you taste like salvation. He tangles his fingers in your hair and pushes you closer, afraid you’ll slip from his fingers again. 

From that day on, Simon learned one thing. That he would rather go through the depths of hell (talk about his feelings) than go through a day without your love. 

| The letter: 

‘To my darling flower, I’m sorry for even hurting you. I’m sorry I was a shit-ass about how I processed my emotions and got you involved. You’ve always told me that you’re there for me but I didn’t want to burden you. I always want you to be happy but my actions just did the opposite. I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything that day. That I didn’t even ask you to stay. I’m sorry for being a coward. I’m sorry that I let you go. 

With this letter, I ask for your forgiveness and for you to have me back. I will be better because I cannot afford to lose you for you have my heart and soul. You are my whole life. You are the thing that makes surviving each day worth it.’

꒰ა ☆ ໒: Now you guys know why Ghost calls Y/N ‘flower’. This the comfort alternative ending because it was also requested. 📩

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

⟢ taglist: @softestqueeen

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

[rassicas]

What are your initial thoughts on the newest Salmon Run stage "Bonerattle Arena?"

super fun to play on, the ink rails make for fun movement. it feels like an improved ark polaris (as in, they got rid of that horrible mid tide, which i honestly think wouldnt be as bad in s3 with egg throw but it did suck) .

i also like the bits of lore/worldbuilding we get from it too! from the speakers when the tide changes you can hear an announcer, really rare instance of hearing a salmonid speaking words instead of just the chirps and grunts you hear when fighting them. i think the only other instance of this is how the smallfry sings in ROTM. bonerattle was mentioned to have been converted from a penal colony (i assume it was a salmonid place of exile...?). i want to say this is the first mention of an actual prison in the splatoon world. what crimes would you have to commit to have ended up there. or was it a penal colony from the inklings that was long abandoned, and the salmonids claimed the area?

partially submerged jail cells with graffiti inside? (this makes me think it was more likely a salmonid prison)

what the hell happened here

[twizzie-lairs]

My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 5)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Quick Notes:

This is when both reader/you and Alastor are both alive. (... we'll probably end up in hell later on btw so stay tuned...)

Reader is an artist/painter.

Part 5:

It was almost pure bliss.

Except many months later, you found out a secret of his one day.

He was an exceptional chef, you were always in awe of how he cooked such magnificent dishes every day.

But one day, you peeked out into the forest through the window in the living room and saw Alastor standing alone, covered in blood. Your first instinct was to run outside, so you did just that.

You rush to his side and ask if he's okay, and what had happened to make him covered in such copious amounts of blood.

He blinks a few times before oddly turning his head to you, breaking out of his stupor, "Oh my dearest (y/n), do not fret so. For I am only acquiring our dinner for tonight!"

You look down at what he is holding in his hands. Your hand shot up to cover your mouth. A leg. A human leg. Your eyes then trail to the ground where you see a bloody human body, mangled beyond recognition. "This is.. dinner?"

A large grin appears on Alastor's face, "Quite right! This one should be enough to last us through the week!"

He looks at your face with an almost vicious look to his eyes, awaiting your response anxiously, not that he would let that show, anyways.

All you can manage is "Oh. Okay." Before you walk back inside the house without another word.

It's no exaggeration to say that your brain chemistry was permanently altered from that moment onward.

The situation felt so strange and bizarre, you didn't know what to think. Part of you knew that was he's been doing is extremely horrible and corrupt. It almost made you empty the contents of your stomach, it didn't feel real.

It didn't feel real, but suddenly some of Alastor's behaviors started to make sense. His picky taste for food...He never let you help with cooking, you had chalked it up to him being more of a perfectionist, but now... you know its more than that. He was hiding the fact that he was butchering and preparing human flesh, right in your very home, all this time.

But.. for some reason... all you could think about was how dedicated he was to providing a comfortable life for you, because he truly loved you. Everything he did every day showed you that you mattered and that you deserved only the best.

"But I still love him with all my heart... maybe I'm just as messed up..." Was a sentence your mind kept repeating to itself for quite some time.

Your appetite shrinks after the initial shock for a few days, but you were never one to skip meals or have your appetite be gone completely, even if you were sick. In this instance, you weren't sure if it was a blessing or a curse in this case.

The meals he made for you had never made you sick in the past, so your body was already used to eating his cooking, and he made such amazing food, carefully crafted with such love and attention to detail, you couldn't help but keep eating his delicious cooking, no matter how bizarre and immoral it was.

"I think I really am just as messed up..." The thought crossed your mind again, but thoughts were interrupted by a rare occurrence, a kiss on the cheek from Alastor as he set your plate down in front of you.

The fact that you never stopped eating his cooking and always thanked him for his food and hard work, even after knowing where the main ingredient comes from, solidified the fact that you were the one. You loved him even after seeing him all bloody, holding a dismembered corpse, and telling you it was dinner. It was this pivotal moment that he knew, that you were the one to be his beloved forever.

In the coming weeks, things went back to "normal". You were settling into the new normal, as Alastor didn't hide the meal prep like he used to, and seeing him bloody and bringing in mysterious cuts of meat into the house became a normal sight to you.

One night when you were going to see Mimzy, Alastor informed you that he was unable to escort you that night. You were a little disappointed, but he assured you it was okay for you to go, it was just that he had plans that he wouldn't divulge any information on, no matter how much you pressed him.

Little did you know, but that night, Alastor was out on the town shopping for the perfect ring to propose to you with.

-> Part 6

[aventurineswife]

Hi, I hope you are having a great day.

Could you make a hc of Aventurine, Sunday, Robin and Topaz about what types of kisses they prefer?

Stolen Kisses, Silent Promises

Synopsis: What type of kisses do they prefer?

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Topaz x Reader, Robin x Reader, Kisses, Headcanons, Romance, Established Relationship, Emotional Vulnerability, Playful, Gentle and Passionate Kisses.

Warnings: Mentions of Vulnerability and Emotional Layers, Slight Angsty Undertones.

Preferred Kiss: Playful and Teasing Kisses

Aventurine enjoys kisses that feel like a game of cat and mouse, reflecting his love for risks and challenges.

He’ll lean in close, hold your gaze with his eyes, and pause just before your lips touch, smirking as if daring you to make the move.

Once the kiss happens, it’s warm and affectionate but with a hint of mischief, leaving you guessing what he’s planning next.

He particularly loves stealing quick kisses in the middle of conversations or when you’re deep in thought, finding joy in catching you off guard.

Special Moments

When Aventurine’s mask slips, his kisses become slower and more deliberate, as though he’s savoring the moment and letting his vulnerability show.

These kisses are rare but deeply meaningful, revealing the man behind the facade.

Preferred Kiss: Soft and Lingering Kisses

Sunday treasures gentle, intimate kisses that communicate depth and sincerity.

He prefers to take his time, placing a hand on your cheek or the back of your neck as his golden eyes soften with affection.

These kisses often feel like an unspoken promise—his way of showing that he’s fully present and devoted to you.

Special Moments

Sunday has a tendency to kiss your forehead or the back of your hand when he’s feeling particularly protective or sentimental.

In private, when he’s unguarded, his kisses can be tinged with melancholy, as though he’s silently apologizing for the burdens he carries and the dreamlike paradise he offers.

Preferred Kiss: Tender and Melodic Kisses

Robin’s kisses are as graceful and heartfelt as her music.

She prefers kisses that feel unhurried and delicate, like a song unfolding with perfect harmony.

Her favorite moments are those where you’re both lost in the quiet of each other’s presence, and her kisses often come with a soft hum or whispered words of affection.

Special Moments

Robin loves spontaneous kisses while dancing or during quiet moments under the stars.

She also has a habit of kissing the corner of your lips, a sweet and subtle way to show her adoration without being overly bold.

When she’s overwhelmed with emotion—whether joy or sorrow—her kisses become more passionate, pouring her heart into the connection.

Preferred Kiss: Confident and Assertive Kisses

Topaz likes kisses that are bold and straightforward, reflecting her no-nonsense attitude.

She doesn’t shy away from initiating and often prefers to take the lead, pulling you close with a firm grip and kissing you with purpose.

Her kisses are grounding, as if she’s reminding you of her presence and her ability to handle anything that comes her way.

Special Moments

Topaz has a softer side that emerges during moments of vulnerability.

In these rare instances, her kisses are gentler and more exploratory, as if she’s silently asking for reassurance.

She also has a playful streak, occasionally giving you a quick kiss before walking off, leaving you wanting more.

[gay-dorito-dust]

We all know how loaded Bruce is, it’s a well known fact that he’s loaded to the high heavens.

So with that out of the way, when he sees your eyes lingering on something you’d like but don’t have to money for *cough* a £48/£58 plush *cough* Bruce will memorise the name of the store, the product you wanted and buy it on your behalf and have it sent to you under his name.

£48/£58 is mere pocket change to this man and will wave off any and all attempts you make in trying to gift him back for it. You wanted the plush and all he did was buy it for you, as to Bruce there was no need for you to go out of your way to repay him.

Just accept the plush and that’ll be all the repayment he’ll ever need. (He always when it comes to people trying to repay him for a simple act.)

Not use to tender, caring touches you’d give out that he kind of flinches away at first, holding his breath and all of his muscles stiffens upon reflex. However if you were to give him time, he’ll slowly begin to relax and unclench his jaw and relaxes his muscles as he releases a sigh while easing into your touch; practically putty in your hands as your thumbs caresses just under his eyes and across his darkening eye bags.

This man has never know a day of rest in his entire life. He firmly believes that Gotham is his responsibility 24/7 and feels partially responsible for how the town came to be the way it was. So showing him basic affection and kindness is kind of foreign to him, but he comes to greatly appreciate those aspects of yours and finds himself wanting more but never knowing how to ask.

Now just imagine this 6’2 man awkwardly scuffling next to you as he internally deducts the best possible way to ask you to hold him, all the while you could only become worried with how intently he was staring at your arms. You didn’t want to say anything because of the instance that you might be crossing a boundary of his, whereas Bruce was severely struggling in trying to get across his want for you to initiate the first move.

The air between you two being filled with a kind of awkwardness that didn’t make the situation any less stressful for the both of you either. However this gets better with time also, much like everything else did the longer you stay with Bruce.

Every Robin he’s ever had held a place in his old heart.

From dick all the way to Damian, each and every one of them were his soft spot, they were his kids and very much still are his kids despite being all grown up! So when Bruce sees you get along with any of them, it’s guaranteed to melt his heart seeing the people he cares for most in his life getting along. His dead set face may seem unchanged by the interaction but just know that internally he’s planning more situations where you’d get to interact with one or all of them.

And if you look close enough, you’ll be all to see the beginnings of a smile beginning to stretch across his face, destined to grow an inch bigger as he watched you interact with the rest of the family. Bruce would watch how you’d laugh and smile to whatever Dick was saying, how incredibly attentive you are with Damian and his artwork, and how understanding and thoughtful you were towards Jason and his reasonings and so on.

Bruce is a softy. A teddy bear if you will.

He’s not always a brooding dude, especially not when he was with you. He’d actually smile, chuckle and even make a rare joke from time to time.

You’re his personal pillow bc this man is severely allergic to proper sleep like the fucking insomniac that he is.

I wish I was joking but I’m not, you’re his personal pillow that helps aid him into a dreamless slumber but don’t be surprised at how tightly he’d hold onto you in his sleep.

Also he’s adamant in sleeping with his back towards the door and is also adamant that your back was pressed against the wall for protective reasonings. It didn’t matter that you’d often remind him that Wayne Manor was probably the safest place to be in Gotham, especially with all the securities put in place, but Bruce was adamant on the fact that your protection should come first even when sleeping.

He’s protective to an almost suffocating amount. Being Batman who had his own rouges gallery of villains was one thing and to be expected, but being Bruce Wayne came with it’s own form of dangers that were out to get him and anyone in association. So needless to say that you were under constant observation no matter where you went, and it was all in due to Bruce’s inherent distrust towards anyone he wasn’t well acquainted with.

He’s got a tracker on you and will watch the screen with a serious look upon his face as his eyes follows you on your route home for abnormalities of any kind, all the while keeping tabs on a open radio channel for any signs of criminal activity within the areas that you were walking.

Bruce doesn’t take your safety lightly and wouldn’t like it if you didn’t take your safety nearly as seriously as he does. So don’t even attempt to make jokes about it because Bruce will take it in full offence, for to him there was a time and place for making jokes but making jokes regarding your safety wasn’t one of them.

[twstowo]

hi hi, i saw your ask box was open so i decided to submit a request!

i'd like to ask for the basketball club (ace, jamil, floyd, separately btw) with a reader who is a sleepy person? reader sleeps through classes sometimes and takes almost any opportunity to nap and enjoys using the boys as a pillow ^_^

thank you so much, and take your time !!

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗SYNOPSIS: How they deal with a sleepy reader

♡︎I’m buying a Jamil body pillow

♡︎Includes: Ace, Jamil and Floyd

♡︎Warning: None.

⋆⋅☆Ace

Ace is the worst person to be around when you're asleep – he seizes any opportunity to draw on your face whenever he catches you napping. There was one day when you unknowingly spent the entire day with a mustache drawn on your face, and no one had the courage to inform you.

If you lean on Ace to use him as a pillow, he'll quip that he isn't a pillow, but he won't budge either. Now, you have an awkward Ace standing still while you sleep, and he's at a loss for what to do. He's not shy about taking pictures of you, sending them later with playful remarks about how silly you look while sleeping. Little does anyone know, he secretly has one of those pictures as his wallpaper. If you happen to use Deuce as a pillow, Ace gets jealous, prompting him to tease Deuce for acting soft – all in an attempt to secure his position as the only one you use as a pillow.

⋆⋅☆Jamil

He spots you sleeping somewhere and pauses for a moment to collect his thoughts, especially if you're dozing off in class. He doesn't hesitate to wake you up, and if you seem particularly tired, he might even offer to walk you to Ramshackles. At times, he senses a similarity between you and Kalim, dubbing you "Kalim Number two," although surprisingly, he doesn't find you as bothersome as Kalim.

When you happen to fall asleep on him, he feels an unusual tension. Initially, his mind is preoccupied with thoughts of pending tasks, study materials, and, inevitably, Kalim. However, he soon realizes that this instance is different – he didn't just wake you up as he usually does. Could it be that he enjoyed having you so close? It seems improbable, but the truth is undeniable. He allows you to rest for a while, but with a stack of work awaiting him, he can't linger for too long. If you don't wake up on your own, he gently shakes you awake. The rest of the day is spent with thoughts of your peaceful sleeping face lingering in his mind while he continues with his responsibilities.

⋆⋅☆Floyd

If he finds you asleep, he will literally squeeze you, sleeping around this guy becomes nearly impossible. On the rare occasion that you somehow, got him to stand still long enough for you to fall asleep on his shoulder, he responds by enveloping you in a spontaneous hug. If anyone dares to make a comical expression while looking at you, he fixes them with the most intimidating glare, sending them running away. If you take too long to wake up, he might grow bored and either make a swift exit or take you on a casual stroll while you remain blissfully asleep. Students may even start thinking that he has kidnapped you. If you fall asleep in class, he will find it hilarious, since he probably has done the same thing before.

[tiredfox64]

Can I ask request a Kuai Liang x reader on the reader also being a pyromancer but always kept it a secret and Kaui Liang finds out about the reader's ability and tries to help teach only for the reader to avoid him out of fear of either being made fun of or accidentally hurting him until Kuai Liang shows his ability to prove the reader otherwise?

A Lighter to a Bonfire

Yip notes: Goodness, I need to show him more love. I was out here working to get dragon crystals to buy him more clothes and I barely make fics for him.

Pairing: Kuai Liang (MK1) x Gn reader

Warnings‼️: FUEGO FUEGO FIRE FIRE

At the young age of five, you discovered something that you thought was a curse. It all started from an incident where your emotions were out of control, resulting in you bursting into a ball of flames. Your parents were horrified. They didn’t know what happened and neither did you. They thought this was an instance of human combustion but you were fine. No burn or scar left behind. That’s not right.

Through research, you found out that there was a long history of pyromancers in your family. It looks like it went on for years before diminishing by the 1900s. Fewer children were being taught how to control their abilities until the practice died out. That was until you had your incident. Looks like it jumped some generations.

Unfortunately, nobody in your family knew how to help. They tried their best to get rid of it but it was no use. Blessings, cleansings, healing, and even chicken blood could not rid you of your destiny. All you could do was adapt. For you, adapting meant staying away from people.

You rarely had friends out of fear of hurting them. You distanced yourself from your family which saddened them. You had to focus on keeping yourself calm to prevent any incidents. You would hate to burn anything, especially if it was something of yours. Some days you would wonder why it had to be you. You cried from the despair of being alone. It was a sacrifice you had to make to keep everyone safe. No one could have helped you.

Or so you thought.

On a random day, you were visited by a man with glowing eyes who said he was the protector of Earthrealm and the god of fire. His name was Liu Kang and for once you felt hope. You thought that god himself would help get rid of this stupid curse. That wasn’t what he came for. Instead, he said he wanted to train you and help you control your pyromancy abilities, just like he helped your ancestors. He informed you that he would bring you to someone who could be of great assistance.  

Though you couldn’t get rid of this ability at least you could learn to control it. You could live a better life now. You can have friends and your family near you without worrying about them getting hurt. You were on board with this. Liu Kang was pleased to see your enthusiasm and said he would bring you to the Shirai Ryu to gain assistance.

This was truly a new beginning for you.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

There was a spark the moment you met Kuai Liang. Liu Kang never mentioned that he was so handsome. And he was the grandmaster? You’re gonna be assisted by the grandmaster? This was exciting.

Kuai Liang was intrigued by you. All Liu Kang told him was that you were in need of assistance. You needed training and guidance on how to keep your emotions steady. It was important that you didn’t condense your emotions but instead balance them. Kuai Liang initially thought you were some rogue person who had no other purpose in life because Liu Kang didn’t say anything. He didn’t tell him that you were a pyromancer and you were never told that Kuai Liang was one as well. A pretty good one actually.

Maybe it was god playing a practical joke on you. Maybe it was god wanting to let time tell what would happen between you and Kuai Liang. There is really no real reason why Liu Kang didn’t tell you two that you’re both pyromancers. He just wants to play matchmaker.

Kuai Liang found it best to meditate as it’s a great way to stabilize yourself. It quiets the mind and calms your breathing. Plus, it’s an excuse for Kuai Liang to step away from the stress of building a new clan. If he has to deal with another incompetent initiate or losing track of Bi-Han he’s gonna combust and never extinguish.

Your time with Kuai Liang was peaceful. It wasn’t easy in the beginning. You were afraid of being too hopeful and wasting your breath on something that was doomed to fail. You feared that the moment you thought you had control over yourself you would accidentally burn everything around you. Your mind ran wild with these negative thoughts. They’d make your skin all clammy and your chest would burn with the flames that flowed through your veins. Then Kuai Liang would tell you to breathe. Hold it for five seconds then let it out just as slowly. There, don’t you feel better?

Kuai Liang had a lot of patience when it came to you which was almost shocking. He always seemed to be in a rush when it came to everything else. He needed the initiates to better themselves fast. He was in a rush to catch Bi-Han and prevent him from causing any harm to the realms. With you, he acted like he had all the time in the world. You weren’t sure if it was because Liu Kang told him he had to be cautious or if Kuai Liang was doing it out of kindness.

The real answer is that Kuai Liang feels like there is something special about you. He didn’t know what it was but he had a gut feeling you and him weren’t all that different.

You had a feeling too but not the same one he did. He was suspicious, you were straight-up feeling. Who could blame you? You spent most of your life cooped up in an effort to prevent yourself from hurting others. You meet a handsome man who shows you respect and doesn’t fear you in the slightest. Even some of your family feared you for your explosive tendencies. But him, oh no, he looked at you like you were a person and not a ticking bomb. It’s reasonable that you would find comfort in him. Maybe a little bit of affection too.

That’s what makes you scared. You assumed that Kuai Liang doesn’t know you’re a pyromancer since he never brought it up or taught you how to control it. You were afraid to burn the bond you were starting to create with him.

At this point, you two weren’t just meditating together. You would take walks together which were soothing. You two would have conversations while having tea, sometimes inviting Tomas to join. You’d laugh, smile, sulk, and cry, all in front of Kuai Liang. He made you feel wonderful and to hurt him by accident would kill you. You wouldn’t hurt him on purpose of course but the flames that run through you wouldn’t hesitate to burn his skin.

So you try to keep yourself composed, even fearing good emotions would make you flare up. Good or bad it doesn’t matter; any strong emotions could set you ablaze. You know that because you accidentally used your powers while you two meditated.

You just wanted to take a quick peek at Kuai Liang, one wouldn’t hurt. You opened one eye and looked over at Kuai Liang who was kneeling next to you. His face looked peaceful with the way his eyes were closed. You looked down at his chest and saw how it slightly moved with each breath he took in and let out. Don’t forget to take a look at those muscles. You couldn’t help but smile softly at the gorgeous man beside you and feel grateful for what he’s done. Then you felt it. You felt that burning, tingly feeling that spreads across your skin when your powers start acting up. You looked down to see the palms of your hands were on fire like two little bonfires. You gasped without thinking and closed your hands tightly. The flame extinguished for now. It would come back if that feeling in your chest kept swirled. You closed your eyes, not noticing Kuai Liang looking at you, and went back to meditating. You focused on getting rid of that warm feeling in your chest.

He noticed, of course. He saw the black smoke that arose from your hands. The dark color of that smoke could only come from fire. It clicked in his head and that gut feeling made sense. You were a pyromancer, just like him. He didn’t know what to feel. He felt kind of hurt that you hid this from him. It would be unfair to hold this fact against you since Liu Kang didn’t disclose it to him. Then he started to wonder if that was the true reason you needed assistance. It would explain why Liu Kang brought you here instead of the Wu Shi to help with your emotions.

He gets it now but he won’t say anything yet. If it is true, he doesn’t want to disturb your peace. It’s best to finish the meditation session and then confront you.

After you both were done, Kuai Liang was about to ask you something you got up and walked swiftly out of the room. You didn’t give him time to get back on his feet. You held your head low as you slipped into your temporary room. Just like that, it was like how you used to live. Cooped up and too afraid to be near people.

Kuai Liang got up and started walking down the halls. He guessed you would run back into your room. He was there in under a minute and was knocking at your door.

“…yes?” You called back.

“You ran out of the room pretty quickly. Is something wrong?” He asked.

You could tell he knew something was wrong by the tone of his voice. You debated with yourself if telling him the truth would do any good. It’s not that easy to explain you can produce fire.

“I’m just tired. I’ll be fine in a few hours. Don’t worry about me.” You were trying your best to get him to leave you be.

He sighed at your dismissive attitude but what could he expect? You were hiding this for a long time, you clearly don’t want anyone to know. It would be unwise to leave this issue untouched that’s why he needs to discuss this with you. From the looks of it, he could easily mistake you for someone who just discovered their abilities. He has no clue that you have been dealing with this all your life.

“Okay. Be sure to come out for dinner. I want to talk to you once dinner is finished.” And with that, he finally left.

You were left a nervous wreck in your room. You thought all your progress was reversed and you were back to square one. You knew it, you knew this would happen. The moment you got close to someone you started burning up. You flopped face-first onto your bed and groaned out loud. Things are just never easy for you.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Great, now Kuai Liang was struggling to catch you.

After he said he wanted to speak with you his mind immediately started working on a plan for you. He wanted you to figure out how to be a pyromancer and he would train you like he was trained. After that, you definitely won’t feel the need to hide your powers.

But you never came. After dinner, you went right back into your room. He came knocking at your door and you ignored him by pretending to be asleep. No matter, he’ll just catch you tomorrow.

…yeah no.

Kuai Liang wasn’t going to force you out of the room. He wants to keep you calm since you were unable to control your abilities. It was frustrating to him that he had no other way to get you out. He tried talking to you through the door but you would either stay quiet or give him short answers.

“I only want to help you.” He yelled through the door.

“I’m fine.”

“I know you need help with your pyroman-“

“I have no idea what you are talking about!”

You’d deny having any pyromancy abilities. You didn’t want him to help you out of fear that he would get hurt. He’d sigh before leaving you alone.

He hates to do this to you but he might have to catch you off guard. You can’t stay cooped up in your room all day. You eventually have to eat. He knows you’ve been sneaking out just to nibble on some snack when you think no one is looking. He knows you’re stuffing your cheeks with tangerines, don’t lie. Nobody eats ten tangerines in one sitting except you.

All he can do is wait for now.

The sun had set and the moon began to rise. All was quiet with the occasional cricket chirping. Right on schedule you were creeping out of your room quietly. You did manage to control your fire a little. You were using your finger as a candle to guide your way around. You were in the kitchen area in under a minute. You grabbed those tangerines like you’ve been starving for days. The lights suddenly flicked on. In your most vulnerable state, you were caught with a bunch of tangerines in your arms and your finger lit. Who was the person who caught you in the act? Why it was the Shirai Ryu’s grandmaster, Kuai Liang.

You curled your finger up and extinguished it by closing your hands. You slowly put the tangerines back like that was the problem here.

“I knew you had pyromancy abilities. Why did you hide it?” He asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Your finger was on fire.” He replied bluntly.

“Just leave this alone please.” You begged.

“I will not. You have to let me help you. I can teach you to control it. Controlling it involves your emotions being stable, yes, but it also involves physical control. You have to control where it goes.”

“No!” You blurted out.

You surprised Kuai Liang. This was the first time you ever raised your voice. It was also nighttime and the deafening silence was interrupted by your plead. You immediately felt bad and decided to tell him the truth. It’s the least you could do.

“I don’t want you to help me because…I don’t want to hurt you. I’m scared of hurting others. That’s why I’ve hidden it all my life. I really like you and I don’t want to end up hurting you because I struggle to keep emotions under control.”

At that moment the skin on your arms began to tingle and your hands started to produce embers. You looked at Kuai Liang who was calm. Even as your hands started to catch fire he didn’t bat an eye. Instead, he walked closer even though you pleaded with him to stay away from you. You backed away from him until your back hit the kitchen counter. You thought you would cry because you were so frustrated with yourself. You were upset with how your life had turned out and now the one good thing you had was about to be ruined. That’s what you thought before Kuai Liang took hold of your wrist and placed his other hand next to yours. You watched as his hand caught fire. It was hotter and brighter than the fire you produced. Little embers from both your hands danced in the air before dying out. You stared in awe at the sight before you.

Kuai Liang was a pyromancer, duh.

“Oh…” The realization was setting in.

“As I said before, I can help you.”

He folded his hand over yours, extinguishing both your flames. He held your hand in his, squeezing it to make sure you got the point that this was real.

“I had absolutely no idea.”

“Now you know. I hope this will help prevent you from running away from me next time.”

Your eyes shifted down in shame. This could have been figured out sooner if you weren’t so afraid. Kuai Liang doesn’t blame you luckily. You thought you were alone in this world. You clearly aren’t.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized.

“I accept your apology. Now that you know I can properly teach you how to control yourself. Soon, you will be a greater pyromancer than me.”

“I don’t think so. I think I’m pretty late with this.” You joked.

“It is never too late. Get some rest. In the morning I will start training you.” Kuai Liang slowly let go of your hand, also hesitant to do so.

It felt like a weight was lifted from your shoulders. You had nothing to fear in the end. You were just being silly at this point. But things will be different now. You have a real chance to get a hold of your life and be better than ever. Maybe you will be just as great as Kuai Liang.

Oh all of this is so exciting you just might—

Fwoosh

Oops, you caught fire again.

Kuai Liang ran back to you and took hold of your hand. You calmed down and the fire that surrounded your body died down. You actually startled Kuai Liang with that.

“Perhaps you should stay in my room for tonight. I need to keep an eye on you.”

Yap notes: Kuai Liang and Guatemala have failed me on the same day. What kind of cruel joke is this. I promise I'm not mad what are you talking about? Also sorry if the first part seems to be different than the second. I started it, wasn’t feeling, and came back to it way later. Yes I did started craving tangerines hella bad how could I not—🍊🦊HEY! HEY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING BACK IN MY DEN?! PAY YOUR RENT! Adiós!

[sehaedazokla]

https://www.tumblr.com/sehaedazokla/761902592938868736/stark-men-and-a-tyrell-reader-fem-reader-terms

WHAT ABOUT JON HES TECHNICALLY A STARK

you are so very right anon and i do love him dearly. i find jon the hardest to write (cregan and robb give me plenty of content, jon is quiet at present) but here are some thoughts:

jon snow and a tyrell reader

fem! reader terms and descriptions 

with jon, there is much in that initial watching period as well. regardless of when you meet, you two are initially as different as ice and fire. you light up a room, converse with every lord and lady, have people gaze after you with soft and comfortable admiration at a feast, meeting, or gathering. jon is trusted by his men and enough so to be named king in the north - but you are adored and have favor showered upon you by all you meet. you’re quite a standout presence in winterfell - all light-colored dresses and southern flowers woven into your hairstyles. he is not blind to your beauty, to your grace. he’d catch himself staring after you, only to take a deep breath and walk away.

but even from a few short conversations and glances, there would be a very quick respect that developed from a shared understanding of what it is like to be underestimated. you are a woman who was never taught to fight, likely not the eldest daughter in this instance, and jon is a bastard. even with the privilege you have from being born to wealthy houses, there’s a certain amount of scorn and disrespect you both have faced in your lives. your sugary sweet words and carefully laid schemes are your way to defend yourself and jon catches on soon enough.

jon would find you in the winterfell library at the midnight hour, turning the pages of a book on the art of nonviolent warfare or a history of the seven kingdoms. the candlelight making the edges of your hair glow as you look up, startled, before realizing it’s jon. you’d be quick to give him that sweet tyrell smile, but he wouldn’t pay much mind to your perfectly practiced words or the way you brush your hair out of your face delicately. you could smell the faint scent of pine trees and fresh snow, like he’d just been swinging his sword outside, perhaps to clear his head.

jon would be silent a moment before he’d take a seat across from you at the dark wooden table. you would notice the way the scar around his left eye faintly catches the light of the single candle between you and then he would notice your staring. you did not usually stare - it was prudent and ladylike to keep your eyes lower, your lashes fluttering just so. but it would seem to do little good on jon anyways, and as he asked what you were always reading so late at night you’d find yourself content to simply be around him. to speak as if you were just talking to an old friend, your tactics and ploys momentarily set aside. a rare feeling to have around a man who is practically a stranger. but jon is not much like the other lords.

you’d fall into a pattern of late-night conversations, after jon would realize he could always find you in the library, laughing more than you intended. you realize that there is a great satisfaction in getting jon to smile. you consider yourself a great controller of men’s moods, but there is something captivating in getting a genuine smile on the face of the king in the north. 

and as you’d break into another laugh, a genuine, real, raw smile forming on your lips, jon would find himself breathless. his own mouth parting dryly, his hand opening and then closing at his side, as if he wanted to reach out but held himself back, almost startled by the want. 

“…your smile suits you, my lady.”

he would say quietly, before looking away.

[fraugwinska]

Hello lovelies! Even though it's hard to follow Hazel, I hope you will enjoy todays little kinky story too!

Somnophilia is a personal favorite of mine, and reimagining it with RadioApple in mind was less a challenge than it was an experience :D I had to keep myself from writing, and who knows if I won't revisit this specific bit in the future? ;> To keep you from missing all the other juicy bits to cum come, I suggest following those beautiful creatures right here 👇🏼

Coven: @hazelfoureyes@minkdelovely@sugoi-writes@macabr3-barbi3@synamartia (banner by Syn!)

Warnings: Somnophilia, Implied but not explicit consent, Mentions of Insomnia, Depictions of depression and nightmares/night terrors, Blowjob, Hand job - Fun times all around!And as usual: Minors Stay away - 🔞

The king of hell was a lousy sleeper.

From the moment he’d moved into the hotel, Alastor noticed the falling angel creeping through the halls in the middle of the night, thick, dark circles under his eyes and an expression he could only describe as tortured.

Hidden in the familiar shadows, he’d stalk Lucifer out, night after night, and the initial delight changed into morbid curiosity. Such a curiosity in fact, that instead of mocking him, he decided to further his investigations. And what he found - well, was rather peculiar. Lucifer, king of hell and royal head of the realm, was afraid of sleep.

Alastor saw him more than once, from the dark corners in Lucifer’s chambers where he concealed himself, pacing around his room, or more accurately: in front of his wide, luxurious bed, pained and conflicted. In most instances he’d sigh, put on his slippers and morning coat, and flee into the empty halls. But on very rare occasions, Lucifer would, with furrowed brows, slide into his bed. And what followed unwillingly elicited a certain kind of sympathy in the Radio Demon.

It must’ve been scarring nightmares that haunted Lucifer, the way he writhed and whimpered, fighting for air and almost choking before he’d shoot up, panicked and halfway transformed to the demonic angel he became after his fall into the depths of depravation. His blonde hair would stick onto his sweaty forehead, swept away only by his trembling hands, and Lucifer would cry, for hours at times, until dawn would break and he’d mask himself in his usual, debonair demeanor again, facing his daughter and the inhabitants of the hotel with another night of lost sleep on his shoulders.

He could've used it against him - it would’ve been a perfect addition to his arsenal. But Alastor knew torturous nightmares just a little too well. They were one of the reasons he, too, was evading sleep as much as he could allow himself. But while his were just draining, Lucifer's seemed to be outright cruel.

So he thought he had the perfect bargaining chip in hand for a rather harmless, little tit-for-tat. Offer his assistance in relieving the king's nightly terrors, in whichever way needed, in exchange for access to his personal collection of ancient (and most certainly rarely known) spellbooks he'd spotted in his nocturnal stake-outs, sitting in his bookshelf where these dreadful ducks weren't occupying the space, adding with a sly smirk:

"And - let's be honest your highness - you're so much more bearable to be with when you're knocked out and not talking."

First, Lucifer had stuttered incoherently. Then had denied, then had laughed nervously, then had said no before hurriedly fleeing from him. But Alastor didn't have to wait even a fortnight after proposing this unusual arrangement for the naive royal to open a portal in his bayou, barking an "Are you fuckin' coming or not?" while waving a mesopotamian tomb about blood magic for good measure.

And Alastor had followed.

The first night of many.

For a few weeks now, the angel would open his his door when he knocked (the privacy-intrusive portaling forbidden by Alastor), less wary than the night before, offer a drink from his personal supply (Alastor had to admit he had a rather pleasant taste in whiskey) and maybe even engage in borderline friendly conversation before they'd settle on the bed: Lucifer under, Alastor over the pristine bedding.

Every night another book and the same steady, even, peaceful breaths. It seemed that the fallen angel’s loneliness was, at last, soothed when another warm body laid next to him.

Until Lucifer would inevitably start to whine. The first time it happened Alastor stared at the twitching man gripping his sheets, grinding his teeth and whimpering like a child. It wasn't as intense as the ones Alastor had witnessed before, this nightmare, but still enough to rattle Lucifer out of his tranquil rest. A silent tear escaped his shut eyes, and Alastor, as if in trance, kept staring at Lucifer as he reached out his hand and, after a moment of hesitation, rested it on his cheek.

That small gesture seemed to do the trick - the demon's erratic, fearful movements slowed down, a low, blissful hum coming from his throat. The frown melted away and Alastors' breath hitched in his own throat as he leaned closer to observe this phenomenon. The relaxed, even serene expression that appeared on Lucifer's features under the palm of his hand…

He had tamed the devil with barely a touch.

Alastor felt triumph surge in his chest, as well as an unexplained feeling of relief he couldn't explain. When Lucifer awoke that morning, Alastors hand in his hair and ever so slightly, almost gently, scratching his scalp, he didn't say anything, and Alastor was thankful for it. But that night changed something, in both of them - Alastor felt it. Soon, his hand on some part of the angel's body became as much a habit as reading a book while Lucifer slept.

"You seem more tense than usual - what, did one of your frivolous ducks explode?"

Alastor smirked at the grumpy growl he received, already settled and propped onto his usual pillows, a sanskrit book about alchemy in hand, as Lucifer threw off his clothes sans the stupidly ridiculous rubber-duck-boxers he usually slept in and climbed in and under the sheets with a hybrid of a huff and a groan.

"Compared to what I had to endure today, I wish. Had to go to the embassy again."

"I do hope this meeting went more favorable than your last?" Alastor queried, reading over some runes he only partially recognized, remembering fragments of the ancient language from an essay he acquired a few decades ago. The poignant look Lucifer shot him made him lower his book. The king pointed at his exhausted face, brows raised.

"With Michael and the other arch-angels present? Look at my face and tell me how it went."

"Ah well," Alastor grinned at him as he disappeared into a pile of duvet, pillows and sheets as if he wanted to burrow himself alive. "If at first you don't succeed, there's always next time."

His ears twitched when he heard a mournful, quiet "Yeah, that's what makes it worse.". After a long moment of silence between Alastor and the mountain of plush fabric, Lucifer's voice traveled damply through the layers. "Can you... pet my head until I'm asleep?"

Alastor startled at the blunt request, watching Lucifer's embarrassed face pop out from the nest he’d built himself. It was the first time that Lucifer outright asked for what Alastor had given unrequested night after night.

"I clearly remember you telling me I'd make a worse nanny than I'd make a hotelier, now you ask me to pamper you? Oh, how the tides turn."

"God, do you have to be such an ass, Alastor?! I'm fucking lonely, and you know you're..." Lucifer stopped himself, biting his lips. He turned away from him, pulling up his shoulders, disappearing into the pile again. "Forget it."

"Now don't be so insolent. I know what, my king? That I'm...?", Alastor tried, raising a single eyebrow at the sulking pile. Lucifer mumbled a short, vehement and very audible string of curses, to Alastor's great delight and even greater curiosity.

"Can you please stop fucking patronizing me and just scratch my goddamn head?!"

"Alas, since you asked so nicely!" To his never-ceasing astonishment, his touch and gentle ministration at the base of his hairline calmed Lucifers entire body down, relaxing the knot of muscles under the touch almost instantly. When he let out a long, content sigh, the deer demon just snickered. "My, my, such obscene noises from the ruler of the realm just for a simple head scratch. I fear what you'd sound like if I put in a little more effort!"

"Then put in more effort." Lucifer mumbled, already on his way to cross the border between awake and sleep, but his voice had a certain, unmistakable edge - a meaning behind so outrageous it hit Alastor like a ton of bricks. He stills, his hand unmoving in Lucifer's blonde locks, his grin slightly tweaking.

"Hm? I don't think I quite catched that right."

"Makes no sense to listen for words, if you aren't ready to receive the message, bambi."

"Oh," Alastor's wide grin returns when Lucifer, to underline his point, rolls his hips teasingly, "If you are insinuating what I think you are then that's quite the daring offer so close to drifting into sleep, even for the devil himself."

Lucifer's voice was quiet and slurred as his head fell deeper against the pillow, eyes shut and sleep already taking hold of his mind. "'Said it yourself - 'y like me best when 'm knocked out and stop talkin'..." And with that cryptic message, Lucifer left the waking world behind, and in it a - for once - speechless Radio Demon.

Hours passed, all the while Alastor tried to concentrate on the runes in his book, while trying not to listen too closely to the slow, calm breathing. He only tore his eyes away from the text whenever Lucifer's hands flexed and fisted in the duvet, or a small whimper broke free, until the pressure subsided. But eventually, Alastor let the spellbook sink as he mulled over the recent developments of their weird relationship - if it even could be called that. The days were still spent with banter and fights, especially when the matter of authority of either demon was challenged by the other. But their nights were something else, something calm and somewhat peaceful, like a truce in the midst of a cold war, and for some ungodly reason, Alastor hadn't felt this relaxed in ages either, which meant that although bizarre, this arrangement turned out to be mutually beneficial after all. But if Lucifer had indeed insinuated what he thought he had insinuated...

The small figure began to shift, slowly tossing and turning. Another nightmare, Alastor thought and returned to stroking the nape of the fallen angel's delicate neck, only to realize it was covered in cold sweat. With wide eyes, Alastor noticed Lucifer's brows drawn together in his torturous dream, breath erratic and frantic as his horns sprouted and grew in sync with his admittedly beautiful wings.

Against all good judgment, Alastor sprung into action. If a simple touch of his hand could soothe a mild nightmare, he'd just have to, well, put in more effort for a bad one. That was the proposed arrangement, wasn't it? The covers were thrown back, and before he could change his mind, Alastor slid under the blankets and sheets, laying down next to the twitching demon. With a sigh, he put an arm around Lucifer, pressing his front against the winged back, and pulled him closer, resting his chin on the crook of his shoulder, his nose and mouth touching the bare skin of his neck.

The Radio Demon tensed and waited. When Lucifer's body began to relax, his horns and wings started to retract and the cries became quiet whimpers, a smile crept over his features and his claws found the golden hair again. As soon as his fingers began to work his scalp, his whines died down and the angel leaned against him. Alastor's heart did a leap.

The king was so close, and his skin so warm where it connected with his lips. So inviting to bite down, taste a bit of that angelic blood that Alastor had always wanted to sample. But waking Lucifer would mean not adhering to the proposal, and he couldn't have that ending. Not when the fallen angel's tired voice rang so temptingly in his ears.

Tentatively, Alastor let one of his hands wander, from where it rested on Lucifer's slender waist, down further, over his hip and to the inside of his thigh.

His grin widened at the change of tune in Lucifer's whine. 'Let's see how much effort my king can take' the Radio Demon thought, the fingers of his other hand combing through his hair, scraping along his skull. It was a risky plan, to indulge Lucifer's frivolously mumbled innuendo, but then again, what could be a greater entertainment than the thrill of having the king of hell defenseless and weak, writhing at his fingertips? Wasn't he all about entertainment?

Letting the fingers that weren't in blonde locks explore, Alastor skirted his talon up the fair and sensible inner thigh, reaching further and further until he found the heated center, finding him semi-hard and tender under the fabric of his boxers. Slowly, he brushed his fingers over it, palming him firmly, earning a sinful moan from the sleeping demon. He listened for any signs of waking and found none as he sliced the offensively hindering piece of clothing open and his thumb began to work his swollen tip.

A flood of goosebumps erupted on his skin as he listened to Lucifer's heaving, irregular breaths, intensifying with every stroke he supplied.

How far could he go with this?

When would Lucifer wake?

He was so open, so sensitive and Alastor found himself enjoying the prospect of putting him at his mercy, teasing him to the edge of consciousness with his every little movement.

As the hand on Lucifer's cock ceased all movement for a moment, the angel breathed out a sound that wasn't a whimper or a moan or a cry - it was something deep and sensual, like an unarticulated plea and his hips bucked weakly into his grip.

Oh, this was fun, so much fun…Alastor could barely stop himself from chuckling, instead deciding on another experimental jerk with his hand. This elicited another noise from Lucifer, more desperate this time and Alastor repeated the action, his tongue trailing from the bottom of his shoulder up to his neck. It tasted salty and slightly sweet and utterly divine. The essence of an angel, and Alastor felt his throat thirsty for more of this heavenly flavor.

Moving swiftly, the deer peeled himself off Lucifer's back, shifting onto his knees and in between the skinny, white legs, eyes fixated on the hard and dripping member he still lazily stroked. The cum glistened in the gloomy light of the room as if it was liquid gold. The need to sample him had him leaning down, his hands pushing Lucifer's thighs further apart, making his hips arch invitingly as he opened his mouth and wrapped his tongue around the wet crown of his erection.The skin here was softer than anything he ever touched before, and oh, the taste!

That indescribable taste he had lusted after was like the perfect morsel on his palate, so divine Alastor feared for a moment he'd go off in flames from the heat that spread through him.

He moaned around the head, sucking on it hungrily as more precome hit his tongue, his ears filled with nothing but ragged and loud breaths. Lucifer was still too far gone into this dream world of bliss to wake, and a thought pierced his mind, one he shouldn't be dwelling on, but one he did, his damned tail swinging wildly from one side to the other:

That he could get addicted to this after all - the feeling of power over the king of hell himself, the taste of the heavenly essence still so prominent in the fallen angel, and the company, even if abrasive and bantering. Lucifer challenged Alastor, and although he'd never tell a soul - unlike so many others, he was at the very least, a worthy sparring partner.

Opening his eyes again and sliding down, taking him all the way, the head touching the back of his throat, he felt a slight stirring above, Lucifer shifting and panting. Just for a few more moments. Alastor pushed a bit deeper, teasing and testing before sliding upwards and setting a steady and firm pace, one hand tightening its hold on Lucifer's hip and the other wandering down, exploring the path over his smooth, tightened balls to the tensed ring of muscle below. Slowly he began circling it, sucking harder and stroking him faster until a noise he had not yet heard pierced his ears. Lucifer, in his dream, moaned his name. And for once, Alastor didn't mind it at all.

Instead, he closed his eyes and just drank in the sound of the sleeping angel moaning like he's dying for him, feeling himself responding to the lewd display of helpless want as his own cock twitches against the strained fabric of his pajama. Without his conscious accord, the tip of his finger entered the hot, willing hole, and his tongue lapped eagerly as he did, searching for another taste and there's nothing - absolutely nothing - better in this whole wretched pandemonium than the sensation of Lucifer arching and curling under him.

"Ngh… Fuck. That's an A for e-effort, if I've e-ever seen one."

Alastors eyes flew open. Lucifer's head was turned to the side, eyes barely open, irises glowing with lust in his hazy gaze. When he tried to retreat, a sudden wave of both disappointment and a weird sense of shame washed over him, Lucifer's immediate grip in his hair was painfully firm, holding him exactly where he was, while a tired smile crept on the kings' lips.

"Don't stop now when you fin-ah... not when y-ou finally gotten the h-hint." 

Lucifer panted and sank back into the pillows, legs falling further apart and hips angling, opening even more while Alastor felt the corners of his mouth twitch in renewed excitement. Noting to himself to renegotiate their agreement come morning, he hummed in accordance to Lucifer's mumbled words as he descended onto the slickened heat of the angel's cock again."Not w-with those pleasant dreams you were giving me."

[mantequillamcwhoremick]

Probably a common Kenny question but how do you think he'd react/feel if someone admitted to him that they're fully aware of his curse but never said or mentioned anything about it?

LMAO you've hit the spot hahahah I literally have an almost finished Fic Wip exactly about this topic so I've given it LOTS of thought.

Okay first and foremost: Kenny isn't a very reactive guy. He's pretty good at keeping his negative emotions in check, probably owed to his upbringing where he always had to be the sane, calm and collected one to endure his home life (parentification let's go!!!). Instances like in the Coon & Friends trilogy (where he lashes out at Kyle) are pretty unique and rare, the only other time he gets similarly angry and acts on it happens in "Poor and Stupid" where Cartman mocks both NASCAR fans and people in poverty.

Deadass when his friends ditched him for Halloween bc he couldn't afford a phone for the e-scooter (ep "The Scoots") he wasn't even mad, even though he had every reason to be. He was just sad. Similarly in Post Covid; he revealed he'd been pissed at his friends for giving up on their broship, but what did he do? He studied and researched for decades how to go back in time and fix it, and post-mortem he left the option open for THEM to continue his work.

My headcanon is that he tried and learned to be the calm one so Karen could have some semblance of stability in their home, but this situation you're describing wouldn't require him to stay strong for Karen (unless it's Karen that would remember his death). I'd say this is a pretty solid conclusion, drawn from his behavior in episodes like "The Poor Kid" and "The City Part of Town" (which ig are the only Karen and Kenny centric episodes lol). I still think (because of "Going Native" and how he handled Butters' emotional issues) that Kenny simply defaults to understanding and a rational caretaker role, no matter the person. Heck, he was even kind enough to leave Cartman his PSP (ep "Best Friends Forever") because he feels bad for Cartman's loneliness. If you have empathy with an IRL Cartman, there's no one you wouldn't be understanding with.

Having an analysis of Kenny's temper tendencies out of the way, I'm gonna move on to the next statement: I think it might slightly depend on WHO this hypothetical person was, the one who "admitted to him that they're fully aware of his curse but never said or mentioned anything about it."

There's two main reasons that this could even happen:

1: The person is so freaked out by this situation that they were afraid to say anything for a long time, they possibly even thought they might be insane and imagining things

2: The person is Cartman

And because I kinda analyzed this in my fic (not yet published), I'm gonna reference it a little and explain my decisions.

The fic's premise is that in a sudden turn, Butters remembers Kenny's last death. Butters freaks out when he sees Kenny come back and after initially lashing out at Kenny thinking he's a ghost coming to haunt him (like in "The Death of Eric Cartman"), he later apologizes to Kenny, concluding he just imagined his death and is insane. (Butters has been conditioned to not trust his mind & brain, assigned mental disorders when there's nothing wrong with him in the aforementioned episode as well as in "City Sushi", so I felt that this makes sense) This makes Butters a perfect contestant for scenario 1.

What did I have Kenny do? Well, in my fic Kenny is overjoyed to finally have someone that would believe him about his curse, but that's not the scenario you provided. But given Kenny's temper patterns and savior complex/caretaker tendencies (gestures at the entire Mysterion arc and anything to do with Karen, including the TFBW DLC "From Dusk Til Casa Bonita", and also "Going Native" where he swiftly accepts his role as support system for Butters), I find it pretty solid to assume he would show a lot of understanding for why the person didn't say anything before. It's a lot to digest to watch someone die, even more if they just... come back? And everyone else acts like nothing happened? On SEVERAL occasions?? Like, Kenny is the first to relate to that sentiment. He'd be understanding about everything the person would be confused & distressed about, and also the reasons why they didn't say anything before.

After Kenny gets his understanding & patient savior complex stuff out of the way, I imagine him slowly going insane trying to figure out WHY this person remembers. That's the second part of the premise in my fic; Kenny and Butters try to figure out why Butters remembers, and why now, and Kenny's main motive is because he wants to find a way for his best friends to remember. The Coon & Friends trilogy proves that Kenny is very distressed by Stan and Kyle not remembering, they mean a lot to him. He feels safer and more comfortable with them than probably with his own family. In my fic, his attempts at figuring out why Butters remembers end up with no results and Kenny slowly starts losing it, lashing out at his friends for feelings of resentment he had long buried and his rational temper control starts cracking more and more. I feel like this is how he'd react in any case of anyone remembering his death, as long as it's not Stan or Kyle. I doubt either Stan or Kyle would ever even wind up as the person to be aware of his curse and not tell him. Especially not Kyle.

Scenario 2 is if Kenny found out that Cartman remembers, has remembered since forever, and never said a word. In my fic (spoiler alert?) Kenny doesn't even deal with Cartman. He just goes straight home to pull out his gun and shoot himself lmaooo he does this because he wants to talk to Satan in Hell and demand answers, bc he doesn't know who else to turn to. In Chaos Plan I have a bit where I describe my take on Kenny's general feelings towards Cartman canonically showing signs of remembering his deaths, and the quote goes like this:

"Kenny often wonders if Cartman does remember his deaths, but is simply too much of a shithead to say anything about them." (Chaos Plan chapter 17)

Kenny is a big "Do no harm but take no shit" kinda guy when it comes to Cartman. He doesn't fight him when it's pointless and prefers to preserve his energy (unlike Kyle), but he does call him out on his bullshit occasionally (at least when it's targeted against Kenny and/or his family). Kenny is also scarily emotionally mature for a 9/10 year old (makes sense bc of his upbringing) so I doubt he'd get his hopes up about ever getting some kind of compassion or collaborative effort from Cartman to figure out what's up with his curse's mechanics. While Kenny and Cartman have an interesting friendship, and Kenny is kind of Cartman's soft spot, I can still imagine Kenny thinking "sure, my luck that the worst possible person remembers my deaths and no one else" and kind of be apathetic about it, kind of like he is by the end of the Coon & Friends trilogy before he shoots himself lmaoooo

So yeah, that's what I think :)) You said the question is common but honestly if it is, then it's for good reason because it's one of the most interesting ones the entire show of South Park has provided. I'm probably biased lol but still, thank you so much for the ask anon <3 I hope you weren't expecting a short answer ahahahahah

[magicalbats]

Kinktober 2024 Day 7: Lycaon x Reader

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 5732

Warnings: Afab!reader, boss/employee, sex toys under clothes, master/servant roleplay, overstimulation, power dynamics

A/N: It's been interesting watching other 'not furry's be converted to the dark side thanks to Lycaon the same as I was. He almost feels like a litmus test in a way. lol

⭐

A curt knock at the bathroom door interrupts your ceaseless fretting and brings your head up with a snap. Oh, this could not be happening. 

“Are you quite ready yet?” Lycaon calls out to you, his tone of voice as soothingly calm and collected as it ever is, but in this particular instance it has the exact opposite effect of making your pulse nervously jump. 

Was this how Corin felt every day, all jittery and skittish of even her own shadow? You were amazed at how she could even function in any capacity let alone a professional one if that was the case, but as you look into the mirror over the sink you’re struck by the obvious panic reflected in your own eyes. Alright, you had a decision to make. You could still walk away from this, tell him you don’t really need the job after all and hand in your uniform. The line had not been crossed yet even though you were skirting dangerously close to the edge of it. 

You could still pack it up and go home. 

“Is everything alright in there?” Lycaon tries again, and this time the creeping note of concern in his mild mannered tone makes you spin around to face the door with your back pressed up against the sink. This so could not be happening right now. You couldn’t believe you were really about to go through with such a ridiculous, wildly inappropriate exchange with your boss. 

“Y - yes, Lord Lycaon. I’m just — tidying up my clothes a bit, that’s all. I’ll be out in a minute.” 

On the other side of the flimsy wooden barrier you can hear his weight shifting almost imperceptibly from one prosthetic foot to the other. “Ah, I see. While it is good to be mindful of one’s appearance, you needn’t worry about that today. I’ve taken care to ensure that the other housekeepers know they have the day off so I can focus on your training without interruption. I’ll be waiting here for you whenever you are ready.” 

You can’t quite help the whimper that slips out of you. That was the whole crux of the problem, wasn’t it? 

Cheeks burning hot, you stiffly fidget in place to test the position of the egg shaped toy he’d given you with the brief explanation that it was to help with today's lesson. Of course you’d thought he was joking at first, just an exceedingly rare display of levity from the head butler of Victoria Housekeeping Co., but the mirthless stare he’d proceeded to level you with quickly assured you that he was in fact not kidding around. And in retrospect, of course he wasn’t. It was stupid to have ever even assumed he was when sexual harassment lawsuits were such a big deal. 

Not to mention that this was Lycaon you were talking about here. He very rarely if ever joked about anything … ugh! Stupid, stupid, stupid! 

Try as you might though, the pink silicone egg is much too attention grabbing where it’s sitting wedged deep inside your cunt for you to find a truly comfortable position where you don’t notice it as much. Its insidious shape was clearly streamlined to push in on the receptive nerves inside your body with precision and accuracy, and it does so with alarming results. You could feel yourself slowly getting wet around it even though you try very hard to pretend like it wasn’t there at all. 

Initially it hadn’t seemed to you very different from wearing a tampon so you’d somehow deluded yourself into thinking you’d get used to it once it was inserted … but you were beyond mortified now to realize that that is not the case. If anything, it was just getting worse. 

All it took was the smallest shift to make it feel like it was pushing in on your guts in a way that wasn’t exactly pleasurable but it also wasn’t unpleasant either. As if the simple, basic design of it was putting just enough pressure on the right spots to make your pussy subconsciously react even though you didn’t really see anything to be excited about in this situation. The fact you’d let it get to this point was astounding in and of itself but you didn’t have much else in the way of options. 

Rent would be due in the next week and if you didn’t manage to find a new job in that time should you quit this one … frankly you didn’t even want to think about that possibility at the moment.  

So you finally draw a deep breath to ground yourself and steady your quaking nerves before pushing off from the sink. Walking is a bit awkward with the toy stuffed inside you but it wasn’t impossible, just difficult. You can feel your legs trembling slightly with the effort as every single blaring siren in the back of your mind frantically urges you to rethink this. 

You couldn’t afford to do that though. Not when it might mean losing your apartment just for the sake of maintaining your pride. 

Your one and only consolation is that Lycaon has proven himself to be nothing short of a true gentleman in the brief time you’ve known him, and you didn’t think he would use this opportunity to take advantage of you. He’d said this was for training purposes only and you so badly wanted to believe that. 

Sure enough, he’s standing perfectly poised in the hallway when you hesitantly open the door and peek out. You catch him in the process of checking his pocket watch but at the soft creak of the hinges his big, pointy ears twitch in your general direction before he glances up. 

Noising a brief sound of approval, Lycaon quickly tucks his watch away and folds his arms behind his back. Well, he certainly didn’t look like someone who was about to pounce on you and rip your clothes off at least, so there was that. 

“Excellent. I trust you’ve made the necessary preparations I tasked you with?” 

“Yes, sir. I - I put it in, just like you told me, but … is this really necessary? I don’t understand what this has to do with housekeeping.” 

His posture perfectly tall and straight, Lycaon steps closer to put a gentle but massive hand across your back so he can nudge you into motion with him. The fact he politely keeps it up around your shoulders rather than reaching lower to grope or manhandle you only serves to confuse you even more. It was as if this really were just a means to an end and he didn’t have any actual stakes at play here. 

“You have my sincerest apologies for not providing a satisfactory explanation to you earlier. But as I said, this is only to help you. It is not a punishment.” Tipping his head down to regard you as he leads the way down the carpeted hall towards the dining room, Lycaon fixes you with a look of sincere remorse. “If you’ll forgive me for being so blunt, I noticed that you’re often easily distracted. We can’t have any lapses in our attentiveness when it comes to the needs of our employers, so I thought this might be a good exercise to hone your ability to focus.” 

Your head positively reels at that. “B - but Ellen - -“

“Her problem is entirely different.” He cooly cuts across you. “And I will see to her as well in due time. As far as you are concerned, I’ve come up with a lesson plan for today that I think should net positive results. Just remember that I am not forcing you to do this and you are free to leave at any time.” 

The unspoken ‘but you won’t have a job anymore’ hangs heavy over your head, encouraging you to keep quiet. 

Stepping into the dining room together, your attention immediately flicks to the quaint tea cart sitting off to the side from the sturdy oak table in the center. There’s already a pot and place settings laid out on top of it as if in preparation for serving. But rather than there, Lycaon guides you over to the head of the table where he surprises you by pulling out the empty high backed chair and taking a seat in it. 

Vaguely the puzzle pieces start to fit together while you watch him scoot in just enough to casually stretch his long legs out underneath the neatly clothed table, getting himself situated with an air of refinement in every gesture before finally glancing up at you where you’re stood next to him. 

“Are you ready to begin?”

You’re not so sure it was even possible to be fully prepared for what was about to happen, but you still find yourself meekly nodding your head anyway. You weren’t usually like this and yet … 

“Good. Then this is what we shall do,” Taking on the smart intonation of someone delivering a rather cut and dry lecture, as if the topic were nothing more exciting than complicated algebra, Lycaon retrieves his cellphone from his pants pocket with a purposeful flourish. “I’m going to play the role of the client and you, my dear, will be in charge of seeing to my every need. In order to ensure our generous benefactors are completely satisfied that means you need to stay alert and even anticipate their wants before they can voice them. I’ll instruct you as needed throughout some of the tasks I’d like you to do, but I also expect you to pay attention as well. Is that understood?” 

You swallow your nerves down hard, hands helplessly clutching at the front of your uniform. “Yes, sir. And … and the toy?” 

“That I will control through the use of this application. As time goes on, I’ll continue to up the speed and power which means it will be your responsibility to keep your attention focused on what’s important rather than letting it wander.” 

Deliberately, he sets his phone down on the table to show you the screen pulled up on some sort of app. You can’t really make a whole lot of sense of what you’re looking at with all the different buttons and settings controls laid out on the page, but it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. It was a remote controlled toy he’d given you and he planned to torture you with it. 

That realization makes your stomach flip in on itself, dread settling in your gut like a heavy lead weight even while you try to figure out how he possibly knew how to use one of these things. Lycaon was not the most adept when it came to technology and you’d heard that Ellen occasionally had to show him how to utilize some of the basic features on his smart device with varying results, so where was this coming from? 

Technically the logic was there though. You would have been lying through your teeth if you’d said he was wrong for wanting to test your focus in this manner, with what was arguably the most distracting form of sensory input that existed, but still. The simple fact he’d chosen this method above all else embarrasses you a great deal, making you squirm on the spot. You were seriously going to give Corin a run for her money if you didn’t knock it off soon. 

“Your mind is wandering again.” He murmurs, snapping you out of it with a little jolt. 

“I - I’m sorry, Lord Lycaon. I understand the assignment. Should I just …” 

Drawing a quiet breath that makes his broad chest slowly expand, the wolf Thiren leisurely reclines back into the chair with a subtle nod. “Yes, I think I’ll have some tea now. Be a dear and fetch it for me, won’t you?” 

It takes you a prolonged beat to realize this game of pretend has already started, and you rush to bob an inelegant curtsy even when it makes the toy push up into you in a curious manner. “Of course, sir. Right away.” 

But before you can turn to fetch that for him, Lycaon pointedly clears his throat to get your attention. Hesitating there with your hands balled up in your quickly wrinkling skirt, you stare at him in confusion. 

And then it clicks. He was playing the role of a client which meant … 

Flustered heat promptly races up your face as you stutter out a rushed, “M - master. I’ll have that ready for you in just a moment, Master Lycaon.” 

He hums a soft sound of approval at that and you quickly turn on your heel to stumble from the table, eager for a chance to regroup. You were such a frazzled mess you felt somewhat faint in the wake of that exchange. 

But you only make it a few steps before the toy in your pussy suddenly comes alive, buzzing a faint sound between your legs that seems to greatly pale in comparison to the intense vibration that starts up. Squawking a half choked sound of surprise, you lurch to a halt only half of the way to the tea cart and double over as if you’d just been sucker punched. Stiff and halting, you simply stand there for a harrowingly long stretch while you try will your body not to react to it. 

You’re fighting a losing battle though, and you can feel the mild tension in your loins slowly curling itself into a tighter ball of pent up kinetic energy while the roiling sensation works through your cunt. The warm, distantly tingling pulse makes you feel even more lightheaded than you did just a moment ago, swaying unsteadily there on your feet. And this was only the first setting? You weren’t so sure you could survive this. 

If the dizzying rush of unwarranted arousal didn’t kill you, the humiliation would probably finish the job. 

But even now you’re still keenly aware of Lycaon’s gaze lingering on your stiffly hunched back, watching you closely to see what you’ll do, and you know you have to at least try to complete this test. It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t in any way polite of him to do this to you, and yet there’s a stubborn little part of you that was resolved to see this through. 

So you force yourself to take another step forward even when your legs don’t want to cooperate, and then another until you at last reach the tea cart with no shortage of effort. Your hands immediately come up to grab the edge of it and steady your wavering balance through sheer force, struggling to keep your head on straight. It still didn’t exactly feel good in the strictest sense, not even now when it was insistently buzzing away at your guts, but rather it’s just so … intrusive that you find it hard to concentrate on anything else. 

Even your breathing is a bit strained as you carefully work to take the waiting pot in your hands and pour some out into the cup on its dainty, matching saucer. This was ridiculous, you quickly decide. And not just the bizarre situation you’ve found yourself in, but also the glaring fact you couldn’t even handle this level of vibration without nearly falling to your knees. 

Alright, maybe Lycaon was right. Maybe you were easily distracted, especially when your pussy was involved, but was this really the way to train that out of you? 

And more to the point, why had this been his first choice before literally anything else? 

“Quickly, now.” He calls over to you, the sound of his voice making you twitch so hard you almost spill tea everywhere. “It’s rude to keep your employer waiting too long. You must be expedient and punctual if you wish to give satisfactory service to our clients.” 

“Yes, Master,” You grit out as you stiffly set the teapot back down with a louder than intended clatter. 

You can hear Lycaon humming a soft sound of criticism behind you at the rough handling of the china, but luckily he doesn’t comment any further than that. For the best, really. The longer that continuous buzz kept going the more on edge you were starting to feel. 

Taking a quick moment to gather yourself, you breathe out a shuddering exhale before taking up the smaller hand tray and turning back towards the table. Your progress is slow and haltingly careful as you make your way over to where he’s seated, clenching the little handles on the tray hard enough to make your knuckles hurt. If you spilled the cup now there was a very real chance you’d automatically fail this strange test though and likely end up in the hospital on top of that. You could clearly see the steam rising up from the shuddering liquid as much as you can feel it wafting across your face, indicating that it was still quite hot. 

Steadily watching you the whole time, Lycaon waits until you’re about an arms length from the table before sedately reaching over to tap something on the phone screen. He does it so decisively and without hesitation that you don’t even get the chance to protest, and all you can do is suck in a ragged gasp when the vibrations suddenly swell. It feels like the silicone toy is just relentlessly battering the walls of your cunt and putting so much pressure on the sensitive nerves therein that you lurch with a wounded noise. 

Your knees threaten to buckle right out from under you as you valiantly attempt to keep the tray leveled out while dragging your feet forward at the same time. It’s incredibly difficult, the tray shuddering almost violently in your hold, but somehow you manage to make it. Somehow you reach the table just in time to half set half drop it down on the clean white cloth so you can clutch the edge of polished oak wood instead. 

Outright hissing through your teeth, you pitifully squirm and fidget against the onslaught of sensation even though you already knew there was no way to escape it. The only reprieve you would find was in having the damn thing taken out, and given the way Lycaon observes you with unfaltering interest you knew that that time wouldn’t come soon. 

Dammit. As if this wasn’t already bad enough, you could feel your pussy eagerly flooding around the toy to ooze gossamer slick into your panties and having him stare at you like that wasn’t helping in the slightest. Your nipples were starting to coil against the soft cotton of your bra too, the arousal so sharp and debilitating that it was getting hard just to think straight. What if you really came like this, right in front of him? 

“You’re having a hard time concentrating again.” Lycaon murmurs, evidently more to himself than to you, but that doesn’t stop you from flicking your gaze over at him. 

“My apologies, Master. I’ll serve your tea right away.” 

Viciously hissing through your teeth, you force your body to gingerly straighten up out of the defensive hunch you’d fallen into against the table. Your motions are painfully slow and stiff as you struggle to pick up the saucer without spilling its contents everywhere but you eventually manage to set it down before him. The little sugar bowl and cream quickly get tossed down as well, and then you’re taking the tray in hand to back up a step. 

“Is there anything else I can, nghn, g - get you, Master?” 

“That will be all for right now. Thank you.” He says, then in a softer voice he adds, “Take a moment to collect yourself.” 

You aren’t sure how you’re supposed to do that when the insistent, buzzing whir between your legs is still going strong and it sounds almost deafeningly loud in the otherwise quiet room. Gnashing your teeth in an attempt to stay the pathetic little whimpers that try to crawl up from your throat, you dazedly watch Lycaon take the cup in his oversized paw and give it a sip. 

But it’s an uphill battle though, and one you don’t seem likely to win. Your cunt is so wracked by intense tremors that you can’t help but squirm in place, blithely squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure between them. There wasn’t anything you wouldn’t have given in that moment to simply lie back on any available surface, spread your legs wide and rub your clit aching and raw. The worst part was, you weren’t even convinced that it was only the vibrating toy to blame for your current state. 

Lycaon’s masculine presence certainly played into it as well, and you understand that on some intrinsic level as you look him over as if in a stuporous haze. Some Thiren were more beast than human, but he decidedly had the proportions of a man and even his general facial structure was rather close to your own. His snout wasn’t so long as to truly give the impression of a canine unlike some others you’d seen or known, and his hands were still shaped like a humans despite being tipped with black claws. 

He registers in your mind just as any other man would despite the fur and in that moment when your pussy was warmly throbbing around the egg shaped silicone, you can’t help but want him. This doesn’t exactly come as a great shock, because you did find him rather handsome, but … he was your boss. And despite what the current situation would have otherwise suggested, he hadn’t shown any signs at all of being interested in you like that. 

This was just part of your training, a means to an end. He didn’t have any personal stakes here. 

Right? 

Softly seething under your breath, you drag your gaze lower to appreciatively admire the broad barrel stretch of his chest underneath the clearly tailored waistcoat. As usual the collar was left open to allow him to breathe, and you’re struck by the intense urge you suddenly feel to play with the tufts of fur sticking out under his neck. Surely that hadn’t been his actual goal in doing this, you’re relatively certain of that, but if it was it's certainly working. 

As if hearing your thoughts loud and clear, Lycaon’s ears twitch in your direction seconds before he glances up at you. Your lungs hitch with a not fully realized gasp as you look back at him, too lost in the swimming delirium that’s come over you to even pretend to be embarrassed about it. He’d caught you ogling him and sizing him up, so what? It was his own fault for turning your own body against you in such an insidious manner. 

“Are you quite alright? You appear to be struggling with this far more than I expected you to.” 

A soft whimper manages to escape as you awkwardly shift your stance. “Any normal person would, Master Lycaon. How — how did you even come up with something like this in the first place? I didn’t expect you to be into this sort of thing …” 

Relenting with a rumbling sound of consideration, he reclines back into the chair again as if to think on that question but the gesture pulls your gaze lower still. As if you couldn’t fight the magnetic pull any longer now that there wasn’t anything in the way, you glance down at his lap. And you nearly jump right out of your skin when your attention fixes upon the very noticeable bulge pushing up at the front placket of his dutifully pressed slacks. 

It’s as if someone has just ripped the rug right out from under you to leave you in a spiraling free fall, and the new tension running through your body makes you clench down on the toy. It feels all the more heavy inside you as a result, your hips giving a pitiful, subconscious little jerk. The pressure rapidly swells and folds in on itself all at once and you shudderingly hunch in on yourself even as you frantically try to make your pussy relax instead of tightening up. 

But it’s no use now that it’s already pushed you this close to the edge. You precariously hang in the balance for a tortuously drawn out moment and then your cunt slowly squeezes down hard enough to toe the line of discomfort, and you abruptly find yourself cumming with a strangled cry of distress. 

Your legs tremble almost violently through the onslaught, threatening to give out and dump you on the ground. But by some small miracle you manage to keep yourself upright, merely staggering forward half a step to unsteadily brace against it. A tortured, faltering groan is all you allow to slip while you screw your eyes shut and ride it out until the pulsing spasms finally start to subside. 

Except the toy just continues buzzing without even lessening its intensity and you soon find your body giving up the fight altogether. Weakly, you collapse onto the floor where you drop the hand tray with a dull clatter in favor of curling protective fingers around your middle. You’re more than just a bit horrified to realize you can feel the buzzing from deep within you, even through layers of skin and clothes. Sucking in a wet, half strangled breath while your legs continue to twitch across the floor, you tip your face up to send Lycaon a harried look. 

You’re not at all surprised to find him carefully watching you with his chin resting along the back of his loosely curled fist, just observing you and your unseemly display. But from this angle on the floor you can clearly see his tail swishing back and forth where it’s curled down over the edge of the chair and you realize he’s not nearly as disinterested in what’s happening as you’d first thought him to be. 

If the obvious tent of an erection wasn’t enough to convince you, the tail certainly was. He may have largely looked like a man, albeit one with big, attentively pointed ears and a cute black button nose, but he was still a Thiren. Still a wolf with all the hard genetic coding and natural instincts of one. 

It was incredibly hard to imagine that someone so polite and gentlemanly could really be hiding a predator underneath that well mannered facade, but there wasn’t any use in denying the obvious anymore. Clearly he was more interested in you than he’d let on. But then why go through all this trouble and approach the situation in such a roundabout way when he could have just as easily simply asked you out … unless he didn’t think you were likely to reciprocate his interest? 

Or maybe it was that he quite plainly didn’t know how to approach someone in a romantic capacity. 

“M - Master Lycaon - -!” 

“I think I may owe you an apology, my dear. I’m afraid I might have underestimated the full extent of this particular training technique. I must admit, I’m more than slightly ashamed of myself.” 

Sighing out a terse breath, he rather stiffly adjusts the way he’s sitting in the chair with a slow creak from the wood. Where you’re sitting on the floor you can tell that he’s trying to lessen some of the strain in his slacks but it clearly doesn’t do him much good. It probably shouldn’t have come as a surprise given his great height but he looked big through his dark pants. 

“To answer your question,” He goes on, a sheepish note creeping into his voice now. “I decided to check online for any training tips or educational videos that might be of use to you but I somehow stumbled upon some very interesting pages instead. I thought it all rather inappropriate at first but then I found one that implemented this kind of technique for training housekeepers and it seemed quite effective. The maids were all very attentive to their master’s needs so I thought … well, I suppose I thought this would work similarly even if I were to take away the sexualized factor at play in those clips. But I can see now that I was mistaken.” 

Your head positively spins at that explanation even though you’d already started to suspect it on your own. But it was still somehow vindicating knowing that you were right, that he’d gotten this bright idea from internet porn and now your pussy was paying the price even if he claimed he’d tried to remove the sexual angle from it. You weren’t so sure you entirely believed that, but you could question him about it later. 

For now you’re much too focused on tracking the movement of his hand as he reaches for his phone where it’s still sitting on top of the table. Judging by the remorseful expression on his face you could guess he planned to turn the toy off and call it a day, to go back to the drawing board for another idea, but you were a little too caught up in the warmth of your afterglow to allow that to happen. 

“Wait.” You blurt, clearly surprising him a great deal considering how he snaps his head back around to look down at you. Moving cautiously slow, you get your rubbery legs underneath you and push up to brace on your hands and knees, trying to catch your breath around the sharp throbs of arousal still making you shudder. Your pussy was horribly oversensitized in the wake of your orgasm but it felt mind numbingly good too, even with the toy mercilessly battering at your guts. 

God help you, but it felt good. 

“Don’t turn it off, Master Lycaon. I - aighh think we can still make this work …”

“Whatever do you mean?” He asks incredulously. 

Panting heavily, you will your body to crawl forward and it grudgingly cooperates even when doing so just makes you squeeze down on the vibrator in this position. You fight through it though, relishing in the sticky warm consistency of your cunt weakly trying to milk the silicone of something it simply didn’t have to give. That was alright though. If you played your cards right you just might get to feel something even better inside you soon enough. 

That thought keeps you going until you at last find yourself kneeling between Lycaon’s feet underneath the table, peering up at him from under the dainty drape of the table cloth. And it’s obvious he’s woefully unprepared for the sight of you like that because he squeezes his hands into tight fists along the armrests and just stares at you with a deeply anguished look. As if he greatly enjoyed seeing you like this but he wasn’t sure if that was alright or what to do with it. 

No matter. Now that you were no longer on such uncertain footing as before you could act with the conviction and confidence you hadn’t had earlier, and you find that this is much more natural for you than the wilting wallflower display you’d shown when you weren’t quite sure what to make of any of it. 

Decisively, you reach up for the belt buckle around his waist and his breath immediately catches with a sharp intake. 

“You are not obligated to do this. I admit I made a mistake in subjecting you to such an unorthodox training method, which in retrospect I now realize was quite shortsighted of me. But I swear upon my honor that this was not my intention here with you today.” 

“Don’t worry about it, Master Lycaon. You told me to focus on my master's needs and anticipate how best to serve them, didn’t you?” 

“Well, yes,” He hesitates, his one visible eye flicking between your face and where your hands are steadily tugging at the top button on his slacks. “But this wasn’t really what I had in mind at the time. I certainly don’t expect you to offer this kind of service to an employer.” 

Sending him a coquettish bat of your eyelashes, you start to tug his zipper down. “Of course not. You’re not actually my master though, are you? Aren’t you just pretending to be?” 

“Yes, but …” 

He doesn’t seem quite sure how to answer that one, falling silent as you finish getting his slacks open and gently start to tug them down his thighs only enough to expose his underwear. The thick, heavy outline of him is even more impressively obvious like this and you take a moment to carefully feel over that bulge before giving it a faint squeeze. Lycaon hisses a soft sound, a vaguely tortured look flashing across his face, but he doesn’t try to fight it. He just quietly watches you slip your fingers into the band of his briefs, getting your first good feel of that surprisingly soft fur when you begin to slide them down. 

The cotton momentarily catches on his length but one good tug is all it takes to have it springing up in the air just in front of your nose. You’re fascinated to find his cock is of a fleshy, smooth textured consistency that looks perfect for grabbing and sucking. Surely fucking too. And just like the rest of him it’s some delightful amalgamation of human and beast that doesn’t lean too heavily in either direction, something about its streamlined shape exciting you far more than any of the others you’d seen in the past. 

Your mouth hungrily waters as you rock forward on your knees to get a taste of him, the shift making your buzzing cunt clench down on the toy in a fresh rush of sensitive arousal. This may not have been the best method for teaching you how to effectively work as a maid but … 

If Lycaon had an interest in this sort of play you were perfectly happy to oblige him, even if it meant giving your boss the chance to ruin you for any other man or Thiren out there. It was a risk you were willing to take if it meant he’d fill you up with something much more satisfying than this measly toy.

⭐

Crossposted: here

[chvoswxtch]

court, you’re the only person i can think of that would understand this on the level i do…

jessica and elektra fighting for readers attention and just end up both having their way with r after realizing they can (competitively) share

that’s all..🩵

I don't think i've ever written something so fast

I got carried away (as usual) but I have a feeling you're not going to mind at all

happy valentine's day from me to you <3

warning: swearing, explicit sexual content (minors please dni), word count 2.3k

sharing.

At first it was confusing. You couldn’t comprehend why two of the hottest women in New York, two of the hottest women you had ever seen period, seemed to want to spend so much time around you. Jessica Jones, who never wanted unsolicited advice or help from anyone, seemed to want your opinion on every case she was working on lately, claiming she needed an extra pair of eyes. And Elektra Natchios, who could have anyone out of the countless people throwing themselves at her feet, was constantly needing a last minute plus one to lavish galas and decadent events, and you were the company she chose.

You didn’t think much of it. Alias Investigations was only composed of three people, and Jess had been taking on a lot more clients lately. She knew you had a strong interest in investigative work, and she enjoyed your fresh perspective. Ellie told you the tenuous small talk was easier with you at her side, and she had said the events would be a great networking opportunity for you to make influential connections in your chosen career path; to which she hadn’t been wrong. 

On the surface, it seemed like they were both just being really good, yet unexpected, friends.

However, when Jessica and Elektra crossed paths in your company, you noticed something strange.

In the rare instances the three of you happened to all be in a room together, there was an undeniable tension between Jess and Ellie. Initially you thought it was just because the two were so starkly different. Jessica was a brute force to be reckoned with that had an affinity for whiskey and zero tolerance for petty bullshit. Elektra was a charming manipulator that had more money than God and could cut people down with words sharper than the blade strapped to her inner thigh. You thought it was the graphic dissonance in their personalities that made them appear to despise one another until Karen cracked the code with a knowing smirk on her pink lips.

“They’re both into you.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Oh come on, babe. You’re not that dense. Think about it.”

Ever since Karen planted that seed, it had been uncontrollably growing inside your head like wild ivy, each sprout blooming with new buds of realization. Everything began to shift into focus. Elektra sending outfits to your apartment that were elegant, but left little to the imagination, and were styles that she had specifically chosen for you. Jessica coming by your place late at night, the case she feigned needing help with long forgotten on your coffee table with each refill of your glass. Elektra looping her arm through yours every time the two of you went somewhere, like a possessive show of ownership. Jessica placing her hand on your lower back to usher you inside every time she opened the door for you, shooting anyone that dared get too close to you a menacing glare.

The hunger in both of their eyes every time they looked at you.

You couldn’t believe you had been so blind. The clues had been right there in front of your face the entire time, but you hadn’t even been aware there was a mystery to solve. It never once crossed your mind that the two women you fantasized about late at night when tides of loneliness had your hand slipping between your thighs, pretending it was one of theirs instead, that they could actually be craving the exact same thing.

Once it all clicked in your brain, you didn’t know how to act around them anymore, and you weren’t sure how to bring it up. Now when Elektra treated you to lunch and reached across the table to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, you didn’t see it as a friendly gesture anymore. That was something a lover would do. And when Jessica let herself into your office, setting an iced coffee on your desk from your favorite cafe while plopping down in the chair across from your desk to complain about her latest case, you saw it for what it really was. An excuse to see you.

Knowing they were both into you had your mind unraveling strand by strand. How could you just pick one of them? Did you have to? Would they be upset if you didn’t pick?

After overthinking it to the brink of insanity and guzzling an entire bottle of wine for liquid courage, you impulsively invited them both over to your apartment. Despite the late hour, both of them responded immediately and were at your front door in record time. 

To say they were annoyed to see each other was an understatement, but before they could get stuck in yet another passive aggressive argument, you cleared your throat to get their attention.

“I want you both.”

A crease of puzzlement furrowed in the middle of Jessica’s forehead while Elektra raised one of her perfectly arched brows in an expression of amusement complimented by a ruby painted smirk. 

“Sharing has never been my forte, darling.”

Swallowing thickly, you straightened your shoulders as you appeared to make yourself seem a little taller while crossing your arms across your chest. 

“Sharing is what you do when you care about someone, Ellie.”

Elektra let out a dark laugh, tilting her head to the side slightly as her deep brown eyes narrowed in your direction. Her ruby painted lips parted when she bared her teeth in a wolfish grin, and it sent an icy chill down your spine.

“Look how cute she is, pretending she’s in charge. Over indulged a bit and feeling brave, are we?”

Elektra motioned with her head towards the empty wine bottle lingering on the coffee table, and your lips parted as you went to speak, but nothing came out. You hadn’t really planned this out well. In your perfect scenario, the two of them would simply give in and agree to your demands, but you seemed to forget that you were dealing with two of the most headstrong people you had ever met. 

When Jessica seemed to grasp what was going on and what you were implying, her full lips tugged upwards into a devilish smirk, and she slowly peeled her leather jacket off her shoulders and down her arms.

“I think she is. You gotta admire her attempt. It’s kinda cute.”

Elektra crossed her arms over her chest, her dark eyes roaming over your entire figure, the ravenous hunger in them further amplified by the glow of the moonlight filtering in through the curtains.

“What should we do with her?”

“Why don’t we give her what she wants?”

Elektra turned her head to look at Jessica with an expression of incredulity.

“You think she’s earned it?”

Jessica took a step closer towards Elektra, staring down into her eyes intently, their noses barely an inch apart. Elektra had such a large personality and a commanding presence that you forgot she wasn’t the tallest person in the room.

“I don’t give a shit what she’s earned. I know what I want, and I’m pretty fucking tired of waiting. So, do you really wanna hold off just to teach a lesson? Or do you wanna help me fuck her senseless?”

Nothing could have prepared you for those words slipping out of Jessica’s mouth, or the way they knocked the very breath out of your lungs and made you nearly come on the spot. The way they were speaking about you like you weren’t even there should have made your blood boil, but it only aroused you further. And when Elektra turned her head to look at you with a wicked grin, you knew you were done for.

“Alright then. I suppose I could make an exception.”

And that’s how you found yourself tied up to your own bed, helplessly watching as Jessica and Elektra ate your pussy at the same time. It didn’t take much of Jessica’s strength to keep your hips pinned down to the mattress, and no matter how hard you tried to move, she wouldn’t let you budge. It was a struggle to keep your eyes open from the intensity of the pleasure, but you didn’t want to miss a second of the erotic sight in front of you.

Elektra and Jessica were both naked and nestled between your thighs, making them spread as far apart as they could go. They took turns gliding their warm tongues along your soaked cunt, lapping at your clit and suckling it between their lips. Each of them had a finger slipped inside your tight heat, pumping steadily at a synchronized rhythm that had your lower stomach contracting. When they turned their heads to lick you at the same time, your clit got caught in the tandem of their tongues tangling together, and it had you arching your back off the mattress.

“Fuck…”

A soft whimper escaped your lips when Elektra and Jessica turned their attention to each other for a moment, and you watched as they shared a sensual kiss, tasting your arousal on one another’s lips, all while fingering you still. It was the hottest sight you had ever seen, and it had you on the edge of combusting. It was absolute torture not being able to touch them or taste them in return.

“Jess…Ellie…please.”

“What is it, pretty girl?”

Jessica’s tongue darted out to swipe along her bottom lip as she looked up at you through half mooned eyes, and Elektra grinned while she leaned in to teasingly brush her lips over your clit.

“I think our pretty girl wants to come.”

Elektra wrapped her soft warm lips around your clit, flicking her tongue over it repeatedly, and Jessica took the opportunity to reach behind her to slip her other hand between Elektra’s thighs, slipping two of her fingers into her wet pussy. Elektra let out a savory moan that rippled against your clit in a way that had your thighs trembling.

“F-fuck-”

“Is that it, baby girl? You wanna come?”

“Yes…yesyesyes, please.”

Jessica sank her teeth down into her bottom lip, glancing between the look of sheer desperation on your face while you begged, watching the way Elektra devoured your soaked cunt, and then admiring the way her fingers were slowly fucking you and Elektra simultaneously.

“I bet I could make you both come at the same time. What do you think Ellie, you wanna come too?”

Elektra retracted her lips from your clit only for a moment, looking up at Jessica in pure insatiable desire as breathless pants escape her parted lips.

“I like a challenge.”

Jessica’s full lips parted into a huge grin as she leaned in closer, nipping at Elektra’s bottom lip roughly. 

“Then keep going.”

Jessica was fucking you with her fingers at a pace that was almost inhuman, curling them upwards to rub against that divine spot inside of you that made you forget your own name. Elektra was sucking on your clit ardently, and her own moans of pleasure were frantically vibrating against your sensitive nub from the way Jessica was fucking her with her fingers. Your jaw was completely slack, nothing coming out besides incoherent noises. You had never felt anything like this before, and the intensity was nearly overwhelming. The obscene sounds of Elektra slurping on your pussy, her salacious moans, the lewd squelching of Jessica’s fingers fucking both yours and Elektra’s cunts, and Jessica’s filthy praises were only pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Is this what you wanted, baby? To be fucked like a good little slut?”

“Jess-”

“Oh I wasn’t just talking to you, pretty girl. I was talking to her too. Seems like all you both needed was a little attitude adjustment.”

Jessica slipped her fingers out of Elektra’s pussy only for a second to smack her palm roughly against her ass, leaving a perfectly reddened outline of her handprint on Elektra’s skin. Elektra let out a sharp moan in response, fisting the sheets tightly in her hands when Jessica suddenly slipped her fingers back into her eager cunt without warning. Jessica let out a dry laugh when Elektra raised her ass higher in the air.

“I knew you’d like that you spoiled brat.”

You weren’t sure if it was Jessica’s fingers or Elektra’s mouth that sent you catapulting into the void of ecstasy, but your throat was raw from the scream that ripped through it as you began to convulse uncontrollably. Your entire body trembled violently from the aftershocks of such a potent explosion of gratification. The restraints around your wrists had rubbed your delicate skin sore and tender from how hard you had been tugging at them, but that pain didn’t even register in your brain at the moment. All you could focus on was how weightless you felt, as if you were floating amongst the clouds with a blissful fucked out smile on your lips.

“I think we broke her.”

Elektra’s velvet cadence was distant in your ears, but it still filled your body with a sense of warmth along with the familiar sound of Jessica’s dry laugh.

“I think she just needs a minute. Clearly her sex life has been a goddamn joke.”

“Well, while she recovers, I’d like to see just how unbreakable you are.”

“Do your worst.”

“Oh, I intend to.”

A tingle spread throughout your lower half when you felt the two of them shifting on the mattress, and you forced yourself back into a conscious state, wanting to witness the spectacle you were about to have a front row seat to.

You could definitely get used to sharing.

tags: @ninejloveb0t @firesunflamed @kmc1989 @storiesofsvu @geeksareunique

[kohakurin8]

~ Elevator Hitch ~

What Does it All Mean!?

A brief theory on the symbolism and lore behind a really cool game

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️

This post will contain SPOILERS for the game and all 14 endings. If you wish to play Elevator Hitch before reading, you can download it for free at this link.

So, Where do we begin?

Elevator Hitch is a really cool isolated-loop surreal horror game. For those of you who aren't familiar with this concept, an "isolated-loop" is a time-loop scenario which only affects a single person, small group of people, single room, etc. — but does NOT affect the entire world or universe. This is where it's common to see things like acquiring an item in your inventory, getting murdered, then waking up again at the beginning of the day with the item still in your inventory.

This concept has been used in various different media, and to varying different degrees of complexity. But, honestly, I think this game is my favorite instance of it so far.

So our story revolves around Protag, a somewhat meek and nervous lil guy who comes to this office building to take an interview for a new job. All he knows is that his interview isn't on the first floor, so he gets in the elevator in an attempt to find it. Before the door closes, Coworker forces his way in, and the elevator suddenly shorts out and jams before you two can begin your journey. The rest of the game is your various attempts to exit the elevator (alive) which get increasingly bizarre — especially after Protag realizes that whenever he dies, time restarts to when they first entered the elevator!

Shame Coworker doesn't seem to remember anything, though...

Now, since the lore within the game is pretty cryptic, none of our questions about the situation ever seem to get totally answered. It's up to the player to theorize and surmise just what exactly is happening to Protag and Coworker, and that's exactly what I've come here to do.

Death and Clues on Every Floor...

Literally! Every floor is a single room containing at least 1 clue, and at least 1 possible death — including the elevator itself. But what's even more important than that is the lore that all of these scenes show you.

Interestingly enough, the lore all seems to revolve around who Protag is as a person, to the point that one of the floors is actually his childhood bedroom.

Kind of intriguing that everything about this environment is centered around him, huh?

Hold onto that thought.

Every room and scenario is increasingly more bizarre, featuring anything from Eldritch-esque beings to settings that could almost pass for torture chambers. Every puzzle requires something from a different floor, making it ridiculously easy to screw up and croak, meanwhile Coworker is so maddeningly unaware that even when he tries to offer advice it's just as cryptic as the situation itself.

It all feels a lot... Like Hell...

Not just as an expression, but actual Hell. Mind rending stimuli navigated through tedious puzzle solving, where the penalty is gruesome death and the only reward is more torture. A neverending loop of suffering and confusion. It's all quite hellish!

At first this feels a bit superficial. "Of course it's hellish, this is a horror game!" But, honestly, good horror like this game is rarely ever bizarre and incomprehensible for the sheer shock value. If all of these allusions were superficial, why would we have such a detailed and cryptic conversation with Manuel, the maintenance worker?

Why would every single "correct answer" to the puzzles have sinister undertones?

Why would the religious subtext in Protag's room be so subtle and yet so distinct at the same time?

So if we humour ourselves and follow this train of thought then that leads one to wonder...

Why would Protag be in Hell?

Good question! After all, he doesn't even seem to be aware of having any initial death!

But, we are given breadcrumbs to what sort of person Protag is through the various different scenarios that ensue. Some things are minor details, like his lack of remorse for feeding an innocent rat to a hungry black hole. Others are more intense and significant, like the clues in his bedroom...

Let's start with pointing out the obvious direction that Protag's dialogue trees nudge you in.

After all, this game is a visual novel, so of course there are points when your dialogue options matter and can very well change the outcome of the situation. However, most VNs have options that are distinctly "good" or "bad" for the story directions, often leading the player on a journey of teaching the protagonist how to be a better person.

But Protag.... doesn't become better...

All of his dialogue options are either:

• Confusion, Frustration, Disbelief

• Self-Deprecating, Meek

• Deceptive

• Lashing Out

Obviously some of these options are better for certain scenarios. Deceiving Coworker into giving you his lighter is a way better idea than trying to steal it and burning you both to death.

And deceiving your Doppelgangers into trusting you before your brutal betrayal is arguably better than trusting them and getting betrayed in return.

But none of these options point to Protag being a good person. As much as he learns to adapt to his environment, nothing he does teaches him how to be a better person than he started out as. In fact, some of them even lead him to commit murder himself!

Of course, this isn't saying that Protag is necessarily a bad person either. After all, his initial reaction to the Doppelgangers is to trust them and even show them pity.

We also get a lot of information about Protag from the floor that mimics his childhood bedroom. He was monitored constantly by overbearing and religious parents, to the point that one of the Bad Ends is his parents entering the room.

He couldn't sleep, plagued by nightmarish beings which he even made drawings of, and had to take sleeping pills just to cope (which may or may not have been hidden from his parents as well)

Considering this, and just the sheer amount of existential dread Protag has upon visiting this floor, it's very possible that his parents were abusive. His personality issues are probably a result of that abuse, meaning even though he isn't necessarily a good person, he also isn't inherently a bad one.

The Allusions of Suicide...

This should honestly come as no surprise, but this game does have a lot of potential allusions to suicide. Especially when taking into account what suicide means in Christianity...

I first noticed this in the dialogue on Floor 9 with Normal Guy, as well as the dialogue contained in Ending 13 (screenshot above). During the interview on Floor 9, Protag seems to struggle with answering most of the questions. When asked why he wanted a new job, all of the answers imply that he doesn't actually know why, and when asked why he left his old job, Protag states that "it wasn't a Real Job" or at least not one viewed as respectable.

Then, when attempting to leave the Lobby on Floor 1, Protag is blocked by an alarming figure who berates him. The figure taunts Protag with phrases he's likely told himself, like "you worked so hard to get here" and especially "you NEED this job"

Now, this game absolutely LOVES its workplace puns, and something about these ones just struck me as significant. Upon further reflection on everything going on, I realized that these phrases are almost synonymous with suicidal thoughts.

As someone who's experienced this myself, I understand that a lot of suicidal thoughts are rooted more in the desire for change, and not the desire for death. So consider this...

Protag isn't looking for a new job, he's looking for a new life. His old life didn't feel "real" or "respectable", likely because of whatever abuse he endured from his parents. After all, his childhood bedroom is described by him as his "old place", meaning he likely was living with his parents until somewhat recently.

So then when he finally passes the interview — passes this hellish elevator trial of self-discovery — and tries to flee, he's stopped by the thoughts of regret for taking his own life.

"You worked so hard for this new life, why are you throwing it away?"

"You NEED this change."

"You can't go back to what you were before."

Then there's the Sleeping Pill found in Protag's bedroom. It's not found in a pill bottle or any other typical storage, but rather it's under the bedsheets. This gives the impression that the pill either fell out of Protag's hand in bed, or that he was hiding the pills from his overbearing parents.

Then there's the fact that sleeping pills are a very common medium for attempted suicide.

This leads me to suspect that Protag either overdosed in an attempted suicide as a child, causing his parents to become even more protective.

Or... This is how Protag ended up at the office building in the first place...

Welcome to Protag's Purgatory

Yeah, you may have guessed it already, but I am in fact suggesting that Protag has committed suicide and is currently trapped in Purgatory. After all, if you consider the distinct hint at his religious background, it's not unlikely to be following the Christian belief that suicide will condemn you to Purgatory. In fact, the opening of the game, where Protag feels like the only one who doesn't know where he's going, is a reference to the nature of Purgatory.

Consider, also, the nature of the game. Everything you do in it is a sort of trial, and it all tests the nature of Protag's true self. Not to mention that Purgatory is an unchanging limbo, just as the game paints a picture of an unending time-loop on repeat.

Protag took his own life, and his penance is to be trapped in an unending trial of self-discovery. Floor 9 resembles Heaven, like Cloud 9, where Protag is administered one final test. Normal Guy gives Protag the option to have become a better person, and possibly pass on to a better afterlife, however our dialogue tree tells us that Protag hasn't reached that level of self acceptance yet.

Therefore, the only options are what appears to be working in Purgatory (possibly like Manuel), enduring the trial over and over again, or as hinted by the eerie staircase downward in Ending 14, descent into Hell...

You're probably wondering if this theory accounts for Coworker, and it certainly does. After all, he seems rather unperturbed by the events he's undergone. I suspect he also committed suicide, but didn't have the same background of religious guilt that Protag had growing up. Coworker knows that he's supposed to go to the top, that he's supposed to pass on. He's at peace with who he is and where he's going, therefore he doesn't endure the same personal torture that Protag does.

No matter what ending you get in Elevator Hitch, nothing truly changes for Protag, because he himself hasn't changed. It's possible that there is some sort of future where Protag can change and move on — in fact, Normal Guy even hints that speaking to Coworker more could be the key to his salvation — but this possible future is one we will never see.

Because that's not the point of the game. The point is to become immersed in the torture which Protag goes through, and to try and unravel the mysteries of who he is and what he's enduring.

So there's my thoughts on the game. I hope you all enjoyed reading, and I'd love to hear any comments or input you have!

[weirdmarioenemies]

Happy Groundhog Day! I think it is so wonderful that there is an entire holiday dedicated to a specific burrowing rodent. Americans love this thing! And who wouldn't? Their burrows aerate soil, and provide homes for many other critters!

A lot of people wouldn't love the groundhog, actually. In 1883, the New Hampshire Legislative Woodchuck Committee put out a statement calling groundhogs "wayward sinners" whose grooming habits suggest good manners, but who in reality have "not made any material progress in social science". You think the Discourse is bad today? They used to form committees to complain about a squirrel's moral character!

However, this is not the extent of the disrespect toward groundhogs. It happens to this day, and we all take it for granted, and most don't even bother to realize it has to do with a marmot in the first place! Let's talk about...

Name: "Mole"

Debut: Whac-A-Mole

Sorry this picture is not very good. There are just not many pictures available that show that weird old "mole" figure that I have in mind specifically! Here's a green one.

Anyone familiar with the "Mole" series of animals will know that this is very much Not A Mole! The distinct head, the visible ears, the blunt nose, the buckteeth... this, my friend, is 100% Ground Squirrel! And this game is FAR from the only instance of moles and burrowing rodents being mixed up.

It actually makes sense that this mistake would happen, though! Moles are synonymous with burrowing, to the point unrelated burrowing animals are named after moles (including Mole Cricket, perhaps the ORIGINAL mole). But moles spend ALL their time burrowing, rarely if ever coming to the surface, so even though we all know moles, we are rarely blessed with SEEING moles. I have never seen a mole in person... yet! I would love to! Ground squirrels, such as groundhogs and prairie dogs, are also little burrowing critters, but these ones are commonly seen on the surface, ever alert. I think it's reasonable to mistake them for "moles"!

Alas, the popularity of Whac-A-Mole has cemented Ground Squirrel as essentially the "canon" Mole design for this context. And what a context that is! A classic, even GENRE-DEFINING game, all about whacking critters as they emerge from their burrows. So rude! They're not posing any danger, and the player isn't hunting them to eat, either. This is simply a game of spite. How DARE that rodent try to see the sun! This is just like Undertale.

Whac-A-Mole is one of the most straightforward types of game for any device with a touch screen or anything similar. Just gotta tap a thing! Very easy. This has led to such variations such as Whack-a-Monty from New Super Mario Bros., where the player bonks Monty Moles (more like Monty Gopher am I right) while sparing the many, many Luigis. Obviously, the Luigis must surface in order to initiate courtship, ensuring future generations of Luigis.

Now that I think of it, Mario is one of the only times I've seen the ethics of Whac-A-Mole called out, through the endangered Whacka from Paper Mario! I'm surprised the genre is not deconstructed more often (I love that this sentence is about Whac-A-Mole).

I think this is where I will end the post, because this silly game has so permeated human culture that I could go on and on and on! So strange that an entire animal now has a reputation of "pops out and gets bonked on the head". Conceptually, I certainly prefer the "parasitic aliens emerging from an astronaut's body orifices" aesthetic for this kind of game, but obviously kids aren't going out and bludgeoning real rodents because of this game, so whatever.

But still, what if instead of moles, the whacked entities were something humans have no problem attacking with a second thought...?

Get ready for an action-packed new game set in the Bowling universe!