#it seems to me those would be very interesting

[tarotbyjam24]

how do people at your work\school view you ?

Pick a piles \masterlist feedbacks piggy bank

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Pile 1 pile 2 Pile 3

Pile 1

People at your work place or school think that you're growing secretively there's this energy to you work hard in silence and let your success make noise vibe going own . They perceive you as someone who works hard in privacy and don't let others know about what they're studying or learning or earning . They may take you as someone who hasn't achieved much in their life or is behind the crowd but secretively noone knows that you're actually at top or you're going to be at top in near future. They're also aspecting to be shocked by your growth so pile 1 if this is what you're trying to achieve go and make them shocked with your growth make them their eyes and mouth wide open lol . They perceive you as someone who's outgoing and appears at those places where it seems important or where you will learn \grow in your career like appearing in seminars for self growth etc . You posses knowledge and you might like to gatekeep it . Yea girlboss gatekeeps . I stan you queen . I feel sometimes it's good to keep it all secret and not to share our knowledge with world . You've your guards up regarding gatekeeping the knowledge you gain but you're in general a person who likes to be with people and listen to their opinion. You don't fight them or oppose them you just simply listen to them like a good listener you don't even care about putting your opinion and if there's something that other person told you and it's worth having that opinion in your life then you adopt it otherwise you just listen to their opinions and let them go from other ear lol. People at your workplace or school think that you've been through so much but all of it was worth it and you are gaining rewards for the hardships that you went through they were not for vain . People at your workplace or school may think that you go through losses often but in the end you always have some profits \ rewards left in the store. They take you as someone who's type of person that always makes something from the things that other people would take as waste . You may even like to recycle things and people are amazed by the ideas and creations you come up with. They think that you may like to go and sit by the riverside under the bridge and introspect about your life while sitting there . They think you may like to sit with the person who has more experience and with older people too instead of the people of their own generation. They may think you resonate with older people lot more than the people of your own generation.

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Pile 2

Starting with your love life pile 2 , people at your work place or school thinks that you've a open heart and your open to love interests or dating people. But you may not want to take the action first and expect other person to show interest in you than only you'll show that you're interested in them or not . People at your workplace or school perceive you as quiet person but you'll not sit silent when something goes against you. They perceive you as someone who's more focused on short term goals than on long term goals and I think it's really good to focus on short term goals than on long term goals because in the end all the short term goals contribute to long term goals and to your growth. They may percieve you as someone who likes to be alone more and be like a lion in a den then be in a pack of wolves . They may think you've loads of questions to ask always in general you can be perceived as curious person too a person who has curiousity of kids and having a big question mark about everything. You may come off as softie to the people at your workplace or school . Someone who's not very clear with the words . Someone who have fluttering energy to them . Someone who has multiple interest like a butterfly which likes to take nector from different different flowers . You may even come off a free spirit person who likes to fly high and someone who's not afraid of being alone of taking different path from others . You may often seem as risk taker or as someone who's not afraid of things going south for them . You're seen as someone who's always emerging out of dark clouds like a sun and showing , showering their brightness to the world. You may sometimes get short tempered like suddenly having storms of emotions and then it all calming down the next second but you know the after effects of storm lasts so be careful to not often get emotional outbursts and regulate them as much as possible. You can also try chanting mantras with beads as a mediation to calm yourself down. I'm also thinking of chocolates while writing this specifically kitkat and snickers maybe they can help you calm down too. You may not like to show your victories and most of the time keep them private and lowkey sharing them only with your few closed ones like parents. You may also not like to share your hardships too and keep them to yourself and only show your perfect side to people. Like how a diamond is prepared in the same coal mine as graphite but diamond is formed under high pressure which most of the people don't have idea about. They may think you're the first in your family to do the degree or job that you're doing right now probably also seen as black sheep of family but you know it's all worth it . It's amazing to be seen as unique honestly for me atleast it is. I definitely feel the degree or the course or the job you doing right now is different from all what your family paved the path for you're the first one to do it and putting your name under it. People at your workplace or school may also think you've an amazing figure specially your back side or lateral sides can be attractive to people. And friend group or the colleagues you're with around are all unique too in their ways they all can be doing the degree or jobs for the first time in their family too but I see that all of you're so excellent and hardworking. Keep it up pile 2 it's all working in your favour

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Pile 3

Hi pile 3 , I feel you may also resonate with pile 2 if you wanna read it go ahead there might be some messages for you there too ! Let's start off with your reading now :) people at your workplace or school may think that you're very satisfied with whatever you're doing and not regretting it all even if it was what that wasn't in your plans. Basically blessing in disguise energy going on here. And you enjoy it with all of your heart and be thankful about it . Honestly they also think that you don't need to even put so much efforts in your work it all comes to you easily be it as assignment or any task given to you. And people obviously get jealous of that but you don't care about that because you know that lotus is always grown in mud but it always remains untouchable from the mud and keeps growing no matter what the surroundings are. Okay now your head and mouth both act and reacts different you maybe thinking of taking revenge on someone but your mouth will instead sweet talk to them and charm them lol. You may don't like to actually physically take actions if someone did bad to you instead just curse upon them mentally and then moving on from it and healing yourself that's what they all think about it. Yea you might punch air but you don't wanna punch that person's face. You're actually percieved as someone who has clear mind like they speak whats actually on their brain but this can be rare tho. You may like to have a friend group and not want to be lonely because you may like to go out after finishing your work and party or just have some walks in nature with your friends. I also feel people at your workplace or school may like your hairs and the hairstyles you do . They may think You are not intrested in having romantic relations with people from your workplace or school . You wanna keep it professional only. Office or school romance may not be your thing . And possibly you may have also turned down the love offers from those people. The people at your workplace or school see you as someone who's resourceful so that's why they get attracted to you. Sometimes you can also be seen as prideful person who's actually proud of their achievements and people may not like that about you but you're actually not afraid to showoff your achievements because why would you be when you're the one who worked their ass of for it. But you're actually percieved as someone who likes to stand on their ground and not to actually show it off so much that showing off thing may happen when you're seated around so many people and you're introducing yourself so you start off with your achievements and that's what the common people around you don't like but it's okay who cares 💅🏻. You're actually a serioud person too when coming to the tasks and work given to you and that's the reason for your achievements. You're a practical person who takes the necessary action in order to kick off their goals. You don't just sit and have it all . You work for it and achieve it . Very saturn energy.

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I hope you liked the reading . Thank you so much for letting me read for you . Wishing you best ahead . 🎀Bless you and have a nice day🌸🐰 I'd love to hear which pile you chose

Loads of love , jam\gem🩷

Exchanges : open , collabs for paps : open

[1800bitchcraft]

What if Ford and reader are having their first time together or about to when reader drops the bombshell that they're a virgin because they never felt a connection with anyone like that until him? I feel that might do something to him with his possessiveness and maybe even a slight ego boost despite the lick of shame and uncertainty at being the one to take their virginity, but it ends up turning him on way more than he expected? 😳

A/N: shut UP I LOVE THIS !!!!! Literally shrieked when I read it, my dog thought I was trying to play with her🤣 anyways, darling, I couldn't NOT write something for this it was too delicious! This ran away from me a lil bit and turned into a full blown fic but I hope you like it!

CW: fingering, first times, virginity kink, oral (F!receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, cumming inside, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, i think that's it??

!!! MDNI OR I WILL SCREAM !!!

Smut under the cut

Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tick.

You glanced at the clock on your wall, nervously smoothing down your skirt. 6:52 PM. The clock seemed to glare back at you, or was that just your own reflection staring back at you from the glass? You bounced your knee, nerves kicking up a storm in your belly. Your eyes darted to the coffee table in front of you. The still full glass of wine you'd poured in the hopes it would calm your nerves.

It didn't.

You took a drink.

Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock.

You weren't nervous for any bad reason, per se. In fact, one could even say you were nervous for a very good reason, depending on your use of the word 'good.'" Tonight was your fifth date with your new beau, Ford Pines. He was something of an enigma to you, having heard the stories about him from when he'd first moved to town. But, hearing he was something of a recluse, you'd gone on thinking your curiosity would remain unsatiated. Then he'd wandered into your book shop late one afternoon and, well. The rest was history.

Really, he was perfect. Though, he would argue that fact with a frankly precious blush on his handsome face, he really was. He was everything you'd ever wanted in a boyfriend. He was kind, considerate, gentle. He listened to everything you had to say, every random bit of gossip or interest of yours, no matter how fleeting, he soaked in with rapt attention. And it certainly didn't hurt that he was so handsome.

Perfectly sculpted cheekbones and those warm brown eyes that never failed to make you melt. A strong jaw and fluffy grey curls streaked with silver that you loved to play with. He had a stockier build than what you were used to back home, but you couldn't say you didn't like it. Really, you probably liked it a little too much. It was... challenging, to say the least, to keep yourself from climbing the poor man like a tree. The only thing that really kept you from it were your own nerves, and the reason for your nerves tonight.

You had yet to tell him this, but, well, you were a virgin. It wasn't for any special reason like most people assumed. You weren't saving yourself for marriage and you weren't doing it for religious reasons. Though, you couldn't blame people for assuming that since you were a whole adult and could count on one hand the amount of sexual experiences you had in your life.

No, really, it was just the simple fact that you hadn't found anyone you liked that much. You'd tried to explain it to a previous boyfriend. That you didn't, couldn't, feel attracted to someone in that way until you'd developed feelings for them. But that had just resulted in a lot of confusion and hurt feelings, so you'd resigned yourself to the possibility that maybe you'd just be alone.

Of course, then Ford had to enter your life. It was cliche, you knew it, but he was just so patient and understanding. You loved how curious and genuinely in awe he still was of the world. And, eventually, over the course of your dates and the long, long hours spent together between them, you found yourself falling for the awkward, sweet nerd that had wandered into your shop.

So, you'd taken the liberty of preparing your date for the night. Ford always said he wanted to try your cooking, and you thought what better way to have this conversation than over a home cooked meal? And, who knew? Maybe you might finally take things to that level, instead of just making out on the couch and leaving frustrated and wanting more.

Just then, a knock on your door sounded.

"Coming!" You called out. You set your glass back down, now empty, and rushed to the door. When you opened it, there was your Stanford, standing on your porch as handsome as ever. He'd opted for a soft brown button up under an argyle patterned sweater vest in different complimenting shades of green. His slacks and shoes were brown to match and you blushed when you remembered the last time you'd seen him wear that sweater.

"You look..." Ford paused, seemingly at a loss for words as he drank in your form. It wasn't anything special, or so you would claim, but you looked like the brightest of jewels in Ford's eyes. "Incredible. As always." He finished with a soft smile, eyes coming back up to yours and you broke his gaze first, shy under the intensity of his attention but you loved it all the same.

"Oh stop," you waved him off, certain your cheeks were scarlet by now. Ford chuckled and you ushered him in. "You're just in time! I just finished making dinner," Ford smiled over his shoulder at you, turning to face you after hanging up his jacket in your coat closet.

"Oh? I'm excited to see what you've made," he reached out, wrapping an arm around your waist and tugging you close. You sighed as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, feeling safe and secure all wrapped up in his strong arms.

"Mmm well, it's a surprise," you murmured, voice lowered as he leaned in to press his forehead to yours. He hummed in acknowledgment but said nothing else, seemingly content to hold you and stare into your eyes. "A surprise that we will have to move to the kitchen for, if you want to see it," you smiled then, voice taking on a teasing edge. Ford sighed dramatically, straightening back up, though there was a simmering heat in his eyes that made you shiver.

"Well?" He asked, smirking down at you. "Lead the way." You blushed again, pulling away from him but keeping a hold of his hand as you lead him into the kitchen. You smiled when you felt his fingers interlace with yours.

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

"You really do look incredible."

Ford was trying, desperately, to look at your face. To pay attention to the words you were saying, but after he'd fallen silent for just a little too long once more, you'd called his name. A soft, concerned look on your face as he blinked then looked back at you. A blush colored his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, I just- I'm getting distracted I guess," he huffed a laugh and you smiled. You set your wine glass back down on the coffee table, scooting closer to him just so you could drape your arm over the back of the couch, close enough to trail your fingers across his shoulder. Ford suppressed a shudder and took another long swallow of his wine before he set it down next to yours. He turned to face you, resolutely not looking at where your skirt had ridden up to flash a glimpse of your soft thighs.

"Distracted, hm?" You mused and Ford smiled, sheepish, when he caught the mischievous glint in your eyes.

"Yes." He huffed. "You distract me constantly, even when you're not there." His admission made your breath hitch, having not expected that. Your heart started to pound and Ford smirked. He leaned in closer, just to see the way your eyes dilated when he dropped his hand to rest on your knee, warm and comforting. Innocent, but with the potential for more.

"Oh?" You asked, breathless. "How do I do that?" Ford inhaled sharply, catching a deep lungful of your sweet, lightly spiced, perfume. It was intoxicating.

"I think of you an... alarming amount of the time," he mumbled and you giggled. Frankly, you were flattered by this new knowledge. But, of course, he didn't stop there. "I think about what you're doing, what your plans are for the day. I think about what you might've put on that morning as you got ready, sometimes I even wonder if it's that dress you wore on our first date. The one that drives me crazy." His voice was lowered, like this was a secret only you could know. You shivered, spellbound by this perfect man telling you how much and how often he wanted to.

"Yknow, I think about you too," you murmured softly. Ford hummed softly, a questioning lilt to it. He leaned in and you tensed slightly, awaiting a kiss that he planted on your cheek, instead. Then another, then another, then another. Trailing down to your jaw as his hand slowly slid up your thigh, feeling the soft skin beneath his fingers.

"And?" He drawled the word teasingly. You lifted your hands to press against his chest, grounding yourself. Suddenly you were painfully aware of how close he was, but you couldn't find it in you to stop him. You wanted, no, needed more. "What do you think about me, honey?" The pet name made you shiver and your thighs squeezed together on instinct. A groan rumbled in Ford's chest and you felt it more than heard it, vibrating beneath your fingertips.

"I- I think about your hands," you said finally. You felt breathless, heart pounding so hard you were dizzy, as his lips gently grazed your neck. It was a light, barely there touch but it felt like fire. He pressed a kiss to your skin then; firm and sudden and you thought you felt the barest flicker of his tongue. His hand squeezed your thigh, encouraging you.

"I think of how they feel when you touch me, how... easy you make it for me to feel desperate when you've hardly done anything." The words were leaving you in a rush, you couldn't stop them now. And, if the way Ford was gripping your thigh as his kisses began to linger longer and longer was anything to go by, he didn't want you to stop. "I think about your lips, how much I love kissing you. Or the way you grab my hips and squeeze them when you're overwhelmed."

Whatever else you were going to say was lost as Ford surged forwards suddenly, claiming your lips in a kiss. You melted into him, one hand sliding up his chest to curl around the back of his neck. A light pressure kept him close as you traded kisses that slowly grew more heated the longer they went on. It was a struggle to remember your original plan, especially when Ford was nipping lightly at your lower lip, soothing the sting with the tip of his tongue.

"Wait- wait, Ford h-hang on," you panted softly. Dimly, you wondered how you'd made it to this position, finding yourself sitting halfway in his lap. Stopping suddenly, Ford pulled away enough to look at you, pleased with the dazed and desirous look on your face.

"What? Is everything okay?" He murmured, brow creased with concern. You smiled, heart fluttering with fondness.

"No- I mean, yes, everything is fine I just- i wanted to talk to you about something before we get..." You paused. "...carried away." You finished with a blush, eyes darting to some distant corner. Ford hummed, as smile playing over his lips. You yelped as he suddenly gripped your hips, pulling you towards him until you sat fully in his lap, straddling him. He grinned up at you, unashamed in the slightest.

"Well, go on then. I'm all ears," he murmured and you rolled your eyes fondly. You smoothed your fingers over his sweater vest, fingers tracing idly patterns as you tried to get the courage to speak.

"Well, um," you cleared your throat, nerves rioting in your belly. "We- we've been seeing each other for awhile now and I... want more with you," you spoke softly, placing emphasis on your words in the hopes he'd pick up on the underlying meaning. You weren't disappointed when you heard his sharp intake of breath, hands squeezing your hips where they still rested.

"And?" He said, voice soft and gentle, realizing his prompt was necessary. You swallowed, then took a deep breath. You can do this, like ripping off a bandaid.

"Well, I just. I thought it would be best for you to know beforehand that I'm not the most... experienced." That was an understatement.

"Darling," Ford's voice was soft and fond. His hands came up to rest gently over yours on his chest, squeezing your fingers. Your gaze darted back to his, and you were lost in the intensity of them. "Are you trying to tell me you're a virgin?" Your blush darkened. You bit your lip, and his eyes tracked the movement greedily. It was taking everything in him to stay composed, calm for your sake, as he waited for your answer.

You nodded after a moment, not trusting your voice. Ford inhaled sharply, steadying himself against the sudden onslaught of possessiveness that rushed through him. Never, in his life, would he have thought he'd end up being the more experienced one in a relationship. Add that to the intoxicating thought that though you were, arguably, the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen he'd be the first one to get to have you like this, and he nearly felt drunk on the feelings churning through him. He swallowed, realizing he needed to say something, anything.

"You've really- I mean, never?" He asked and if you heard the strain in his voice, you didn't comment.

"No, not really, I just." You shrugged one shoulder, still avoiding his gaze. "I don't know, I guess I've just been waiting for the right person. I've never... liked anyone, as much as I like you." You admitted the last part in a soft, shy voice and Ford felt his heart flutter even as his cock twitched in his pants. Adorable.

"Well," he started slowly. "I hope you know I would never ask or expect you to do anything you're not comfortable with; if you don't want to do anything now, we don't have to. We can wait as long as you'd like, okay?" He paused, waiting for you to acknowledge him. When you nodded, gaze flitting to his shyly, he smiled.

"And... what if I am ready?" You asked softly and Ford couldn't contain the soft groan that left him. His arms moved to wrap loosely around your waist, gently holding you to him as his forehead pressed to yours.

"Darling, don't." He inhaled sharply, so close his lips brushed against yours every time he spoke. "Not if you're not certain, please."

A soft, needy sound bubbled up inside you. You wiggled a little in his lap and Ford choked when he felt you shift against his cock, already half hard in his slacks.

"But I am," you implored. "I'm so sure, Ford, please. I just- I wanna feel you, all of you." And how could he deny you now? When you looked at him so sweetly, need shining in your pretty eyes. With a broken groan he surged forward, kissing you suddenly and deeply. Your hands delved into the short curls at the base of his neck, nails scratching lightly over his skin.

Time passed by in a blur. A flurry of kisses and touches, Ford's hands gripping and squeezing and feeling every inch of you he could reach. You were lost in him. In the intensity of his touches, the pleasure that burned through you and set you on fire. You only realized how far gone you were when you blinked and suddenly found yourself in your room, back pressed to your mattress as Ford hovered over you. Somewhere along the way he'd lost his vest, his shirt unbuttoned down to just below his broad chest. You had lost your top all together, now only clad in your skirt and underwear.

"God, look at you," Ford breathed the words softly, reverently. He sat back on his heels, letting his greedy gaze drink in every inch of you. His hand trailed down the front of your body, fingertips starting at the hollow of your throat and skimming down, down, down to your pudgy belly. You felt shy under his scrutiny, and instinctively started to move your arms to cover yourself, but Ford was faster.

"Uh-uh, none of that, pretty girl," he murmured, catching both wrists in one hand easily and pinning them above your head. Your belly fluttered with heat at the display and you whimpered, unable to hide the noise. Ford swallowed thickly, his cock throbbing where it was trapped behind his zipper.

"You're so... responsive," he murmured softly. He leaned down, caging you in with his body over yours, propped up on his forearms on either side of your head. You kept your hands where they were, despite desperately wanting to touch him. You were curious to see what he'd do now and he certainly didn't disappoint. You arched upwards with a sharp inhale when you felt one big, warm palm skin down across your side until he could cup your breast. Squeezing and feeling the plush fat in his fingers.

Heat pulsed through you, a whimpery mewl of his name leaving your lips. "Thaaats it, jus' relax n'let me take care of you," his voice was a low, soothing murmur against your skin, drunk on your scent and your responses. His hands left you, grabbing your hips to tug you forwards until your legs wrapped loosely around his waist. You moaned when this brought your aching cunt pressed tightly against the throbbing bulge in his slacks, the pressure a welcome sensation. Ford's nimble fingers skimmed back upwards, taking advantage of the slight arch in your back to unclip your bra and toss it. Your breasts now free, you both moaned as his bare skin made contact, thumbs drawing light circles over your perked nipples.

"Oh" a soft, breathy exhale left you as you felt the pads of his thumbs, roughened with callouses, rub over your perked and sensitive nipples. "Nngh F-Ford-" your eyes fluttered, panting softly. You slid your fingers into his hair as he lowered himself, kissing and biting along your breasts.

"Pretty- so, so pretty like this," he murmured against your skin. He let the fingers of his left hand tweak and tease at your left nipple, hot mouth moving over to take your right between his lips. Your thighs twitched where they were wrapped around his waist, shifting and squeezing as the pleasure sparked along your nerves.

"Nnngh Ford- F-Ford, oh fuck-" your voice cut off with a whiny gasp. Ford's groan reverberated into you as your thighs around his waist squeezed and pulled, heels digging into his lower back to push him closer until your rolling hips found his clothed cock to grind against. "Oh, oh yes, fuck-" you gasped the words, high and pitchy as your poor, neglected pussy throbbed at the contact. Ford swore he could feel the heat of you bleeding through your clothes. The slide of your panty-clad pussy too smooth for you to be anything over than soaked.

"Good girl," the words sent pleasure arcing through you, your head tossed back against your sheets as your eyes fluttered. "Oh honey," he cooed softly. His voice was tight with restraint, the way you rubbed your cunt against him slowly picking at his sanity. "Y'like that? Hm? Fuck, that's it. Just like that, sweetheart. Use me, make yourself feel good." He was mesmerized. Spellbound by the sight of your as you grasped at the sheets beneath you, back arching as your hips shifted and rolled. He could feel you, wet and desperate, soaking the front of his slacks. Marking him.

"Ford, f-ford-" you whined, opening your eyes to look at him. Your gaze was lidded and hazy, clouded with desire. A pout marred your spit-glossed lips and Ford twitched it his boxers, a thick ooze of precum dripping from his tip to stain his boxers.

"Shh, what is it? Hm?" He murmured, cooed at you, and the tone of his voice made your belly flutter. His hands abandoned their work at your breasts, moving to grip your hips. He steadied you before leaning forward, rocking his hips into your cunt. Your heels dug into his back, hands coming up to grab at his arms, tugging insistently until he was pressed flush against you.

He leaned in, smothering your moans in a kiss. His hips jerked into yours, messy and uncoordinated, when your hands slid to his chest. Scratching your nails along his skin, eliciting shudders and moans, you unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way. Pushed it off his shoulders like it had personally offended you.

"Ford," you panted softly, breaking the kiss. "Ford it's- s'not enough, I- I want more, please," your brow knitted together, an adorable little frown marring your features. Ford. His forehead fell against your shoulder with a groan, his breath puffing over your skin in soft pants. He kissed at your collarbone, nipping gently and leaving blooming marks in his wake.

"Yeah?" He said finally, voice low and rough. He kissed his way down your body, kneeling between your spread legs. "What d'you want?" He murmured, smirking as he kissed a trail of fire from your knee to your inner thigh.

"Don't--Oh fuck--don't tease," you said, petulant even as your hips wiggled. Whatever smart ass remark Ford had ready was lost in a choked off moan as he shoved your skirt up. Your pretty panties were absolutely drenched. Soaked so thoroughly that the pale pink fabric was dark.

"Oh sweetheart," he said, unable to keep the desire from his voice as his hands gripped your thighs, keeping you spread for him. He swallowed thickly, suddenly aware of the pool of saliva threatening to spill from his mouth. "You're so- you're so wet," he muttered, voice awed. One of his hands left your thigh so he could stroke a thumb over your covered slit. He moaned to feel your sopping heat, even through the sodden fabric.

"Ah, ah- please, please Foooorrrd--" you whined, hips jerking into the barely there pressure of his thumb. "You- you can't just t-tease me, I need you." You sniffled, tears suddenly filling and threatening to spill from your glossy eyes as the bubbling heat and pressure in your belly threatened to boil over. Your words did nothing to quell the harsh, possessiveness that had lashed itself in a tight band around Ford's chest.

"God, yeah, you do don't you?" He murmured. You could've cried with relief when his thumbs finally hooked into the band of your panties, dragging them down your pretty legs slowly. His cock throbbed, sticky and wet in his boxers as he watched the fabric peel away from your puffy pussymound. His mouth dropped open, another rush of drool pooling as sticky, pearlescent strings of slick made their appearance. Desperately clinging to your ruined panties.

"Fuck, honey, she's- she's just cryin' for it, huh?" You hardly recognized his voice as his. It was thick, gravelly with need, and laced with the remnants of an accent thought long gone, making his words sound harsher, dirtier. "Think you've deprived her too long, starshine. Look how needy she is," you barely registered he wasn't talking about you, but rather your pussy, before the thought disappeared. Lost in the feeling of thick, calloused fingers sliding through your slick, velvety folds. Spreading you, stroking the tips of his two fingers around the edges of your hole, just to feel the way you clenched. Tried to suck his fingers in desperately. His thumb trailed up slowly, drawing lazy circles over just the peak of your swollen little nub.

Your hips twitched forwards, wanting desperately to grind into the touches Ford was teasing you with but he was determined to get you to say what you wanted. "C'mon, wanna hear your voice," he coaxed you, a pussy drunk little smile on his mouth already.

"Please Ford," you said finally. "Please touch me, want your fingers."

"Silly, you already have my fingers," he teased, hiding his smirk. He dipped his fingers just barely into your twitching hole, gratified when you whimpered. "Try again, sweetheart."

"Want- want them in me, Ford, please," you whined at him, voice trembling. Ford swore, a harsh and muttered fuck leaving his lips.

"Put your hands in my hair- that's it, good girl," his praise made you flush. Another pulse of desire making your pussy ache. Ford swallowed thickly, breath hitching where your fingers tangled in his curls, tugging slightly. "You pull me away if it's too much, okay pretty girl? Otherwise, I'm not stopping." The wolfish grin on his lips seemed almost out of place if his eyes weren't glossy with lust. You were about to question him when he suddenly dived in, licking a stripe up your dripping cunt with the flat of his tongue, moaning like a whole when your taste coated the muscle. His fingers started to push and press, stretching the walls of your pretty pussy. He lapped at your clit, circling the nub with the tip of his tongue then licking it with the flat of his tongue. The pleasure distracted you from the pressure and slight pain of his fingers until he curled them, fingertips pressing into a soft, spongey spot that had you seeing stars.

"Fuck, Stanford!" Your back bowed, fingers curled tight in his hair and making him moan into your pussy. His full name on your lips was almost too much, cock pulsing and leaking a steady stream if precum. He knew the inside of his boxers had to be a sticky mess by now but couldn't be bothered to care. Not when your pussy was fluttering around his fingers, your hands in his hair tugging hard enough to make him moan.

"C'mon, cum for me. I can feel you squeezing my fingers, you're so close aren't you, baby? Such a good girl f'me, so fucking pretty like this and all mine, never gonna let anyone else see you this way, " his words were possessive and hot, spoken in between licks and sucks to your aching clit, but you loved it. They pushed you just that little bit closer and Ford could tell by the way you whimpered his name, your hips rolling down to meet his thrusting fingers. "You like it when I talk to you, honey? Like knowing how fucking turned on I am at the sight of your? Fuck you're a vision, starshine. So, so beautiful. Love that you let me have you like this, love that you're mine."

"Yours! Fuck, m'all yours Ford- please please please m'so- so close, f-fuck!" Hearing it from your lips made him throb. He had to sneak his free hand down to palm at his cock, desperate not to cum yet.

"Thaaaats it, c'mon sweetheart, cum on my fingers." His low, rumbling voice desperate and needy is what pitched you over the edge. Your back bowed, hips rolling, and once Ford was sure you were in the thick of it he replaced his fingers with his tongue. Drinking you down as if you were ambrosia, moaning into your pussy, hands gripping your hips to help you ride out your release on his face. When the waves of pleasure slowed to a gentle ebb and flow you pulled him back up. Hauling him onto the bed, hovering over you just so you could kiss him. You didn't care that you could taste yourself on his mouth, and Ford let out a slutty moan when your legs wrapped around his waist. Pulling him into you until the bulge in his slacks was pressed snugly against your sopping pussy.

"Honey- honey, wait- lemme just-- unhand me, woman, for the love of-" you felt him smile against your lips, now unable to keep kissing him because you both were smiling. Giggling like lovedrunk teenagers as you foiled his every attempt to pull away from you. He finally managed to get his slacks and boxers off, no thanks to you. The choked off moan he let out as he swiped his tip through your folds, coating himself in your slick, only made you wetter. He wondered if he'd make it out of this alive and, as he slowly started to push in and felt the tight clench of your dripping cunt, he quickly realized he wouldn't.

"Oh god," he choked the words out, forehead pressed to yours. "Fuck honey, you're so- so- fffuuuuck." His eyes fluttered, reduced to babbling nonsense. You weren't faring much better. Your arms wrapped around his neck, clinging to him and digging your nails into his back. Your mouth hung open, nothing but punched out little whimpers leaving you as he rocked his hips, sinking his cock in inch by inch until his hips were pressed flush to your ass.

"Ford- Ford you're so d-deep," you managed through panting breaths. Ford leaned in, unable to keep himself from kissing you. Really, it was just to keep you quiet. He was barely able to control himself just feeling you, how hot and wet you were, the way your cunt fluttered and squeezed around him as he bullied his way inside. He wouldn't have been able to stay sane if you started talking on top of that.

"Mm- mmnn Ford- Stanford-" you mumbled his name in between kisses, and he twitched inside you.

"Honey- honey, don't- I can't-" he whined against your lips, hips grinding into you, desperate for the way you gasped his name, nails digging into his skin. "God, you feel so good, fucking- fucking perfect, sweetheart you're so- so wet." He wasn't wrong, either. He could feel you soaking his cock, dripping down his balls. You dug your heels into his back, pussy fluttering around him.

"Please Ford," you whined. "Please move, please please please-" your words cut off with a whimper as Ford took them to heart. He started an even, steady pace, groaning into your skin at the way your pussy squeezed and sucked him back in. Desperate not to let him go. "Oh, oh god-" you choked the words out when he found your sweetspot again. Shifting his hips and angling so that his tip was giving it messy kisses every time he sank back in.

"S'that it? That the spot baby?" He twitched inside you, spurting precum to coat your walls at the fucked out look on your face. His hips jerked, pace increasing as he was desperate to keep you looking like that. Eyes glossy, brows furrowed, mouth open and panting. "Fuuuuck that's it, good girl. Jus' let me take care of you, jus' want you to feel me, feel how good it is when I'm inside you."

"So good, so- so good, Ford l-" he shushed your needy moans, leaning down to bite and suck marks into your neck. Your moans and his groans echoed throughout your room. The noise of your sloppy cunt loud enough to make anyone blush. When the pitch of your moans started to change, coming out faster, higher pitched, he knew you were close.

"Fuck you're close, aren't you? I can feel it, feel so suckin' me in- c'mon honey, cum for me, I wanna feel it," that was an understatement. He was desperate for it. Desperate to have you fully, in a way no one else ever had or would. He bit sharply at your shoulder, moaning against you skin as you squeezed him. "Fuck fuck fuck, that's it baby, that's it. Gooood giiiirl, c'mon show me who you belong to, who's making that pretty pussy feel so good." You never would've guessed Ford could be this filthy, but it was your undoing.

Your pussy clamped down around his cock, fluttering and squeezing rhythmically, making him go cross-eyed as the pleasure ripped through him. You creamed on his cock with a wail, nails scratching marks into his back he'd admire later. He felt his own orgasm hot on his heels, unable to resist the way you milked his cock.

"Baby- baby, I'm close I'm so-- oh god, so close, where-" your thighs squeezed around his waist, ankles locking behind his back and the sudden panic at realizing he couldn't pull out mixed with the pleasure in a way that left him dizzy. "Baby, baby dont- don't-"

"In me, please Ford wanna feel you wanna- wanna be full, please please please." There's no way he could've resisted you, no possible universe in which he could tell you no. Giving in with a deep, rumbling groan he felt his cock twitch, balls tightening as he pounded into you with renewed energy.

"Oooohhh fuck, my darling wants to feel full huh? My cock not enough for you h-huh? Gotta- oh god, gotta st-stuff you with my cum too?" You nodded, eyes teary from the overstimulation. When fat tears slid down your cheeks he was done. Hips jerking and fucking into you harshly, cumming with a hoarse shout of your name before he stilled inside you. You could feel his cock twitching, jerking as he spurted thick, gooey ropes of cum to coat your walls.

You both panted softly as you came down. You held Ford against your chest, feeling his heart beat where he was pressed against you. You smoothed your fingers through his hair and he hummed, soothed by the motions.

"Mmmm... y'do that and I won't have it in me to get up," he murmured. You giggled softly, kissing the top of his head as affection bloomed in your chest.

"I'm alright with that," you murmured. You shushed him softly when he started to protest. "We can clean up later. Right now, I just want to stay here. Just for a little bit. Please?" Ford paused for a moment, but the promise of your soft curves against him and your hands through his hair was impossible to resist, so he settled back against you.

"Fine. Later."

[cynthiav06]

Hell yes. I have so many thoughts on this.

I have always headcanoned that Percy is super close with Aphrodite cabin cause you know they share certain interests. Aphrodite is of the ocean, and her children are also by extension of the ocean. Percy himself is a child of the Sea. Percy has much in common with children of Aphrodite as his connection with naiads and pegasi is something he shares with them. Therefore, all of the Aphrodite cabin is besties with Percy; every single one of them, because not only does he respect them and doesn't underestimate them, but he also shares their interests.

Exhibit A:

This might be speculation, but it fits, and I like it, so we are going with it. Percy is especially close with Drew. It used to be both Silena and Drew before the war. Drew totally completely looked up to Silena, and they shared a close sibling bond. Drew has not been the same after the loss of Silena, and neither has Percy or Clarisse.

Now,surprisingly or not, I have always liked Drew. I know Rick wrote her off as the stereotypical mean girl, but I think I always found her to be more authentic. I remember her cameo in Kane Chronicles. I was excited, assuming that she would have a bigger role there, maybe but no such luck. As for what Annabeth and Piper think of her? Well, they have a skewed perspective of many things, and it's a character flaw Rick hasn't really worked on at all in the case of Annabeth but at least a little in Piper’s case. [Tell me honestly if Piper and Annabeth don't have the vibes of the sort of girls who look down on other girls because they use makeup. And that conversation they had where Piper agreed that Annabeth should leash Percy and it was necessary? Come on, people, some things speak for themself]

Either way, Drew and Percy totally gossip about campers. It's not even the usual sort of gossip but the kind that involves intel on the campers. Percy is and has shown to be very good at manipulation/charming, and despite how he may seem, he has an innate need to know people's secrets. He doesn't have to always, but he would rather like knowing. It's one of his self-preservation mechanisms. He can make people talk as if he is their long-lost relative or close friend. He has done it at some point to everyone(only because nobody keeps him in the loop properly, so he has to resort to his own ways). I have always thought that trick was a bit like charmspeak. So it's understandable that he and Drew get along very well. They recognize that in each other. They are always underestimated at first glance, but nobody's pulling strings like those two. I have a post that explores this habit of Percy, HERE.

Drew's cold and a bit scathing attitude is her defense mechanism. Children of Aphrodite are considered overly emotional or sensitive, and it's her way of subverting that assumption. She's very good at it too, and Percy is one of the very few who sees and understands what it is at first glance. After all, he himself prefers to do things on his own rather than rely on others.

I have absolutely no basis for this, but remember when Percy was ostracized after his claiming and continued to be so up until after Titan's Curse? I think the Stoll brothers, Malcolm, Silena, or Drew, some campers from Demeter and Apollo Cabin(Yew and Gardner maybe) were the only people who talked to him normally during that period.

Another thing to remember is that when Piper met Drew, she was still recovering from the loss of Silena. And Piper, the new girl, who didn't even seem to respect Aphrodite cabin and their acceptance and love for femininity and the strength in feminine characteristics and emotions and various facets of beauty suddenly gets made Head Counselor out of nowhere just because she did one quest and is involved in the Great Prophecy. Mind you, it was a position that belonged to Silena before and to Drew after as Silena's succesor. It meant a lot to her, so obviously, Drew hates Piper. Everyone in the Aphrodite cabin hates her guts. They represent something that Piper doesn't understand and she is in a position that was just handed to her like a freebie out of nowhere, a position that belonged to someone very dear to all of the Aphrodite cabin whose loss was still very fresh in their mind and Piper had the audacity to insult them in their own home?

Also, note that Percy was missing by then, and [CHB] were all frantically searching for him. Before his disappearance, I headcanon(I canonize) that Drew and Clarisse used to sit together and talk fondly about their memories of Silena or just sit in silence. Because none of them would ever recover from this. Now, with Percy gone, Drew didn't have anyone else to rely on just as much. So yes, she was in a super rough patch, and she had every right to hate Piper. Hell, I am sure the reason Percy dislikes Piper stems from this as well. The Aphrodite Cabin told him of her behavior, and it didn't sit right with Percy. He wouldn't say it to Piper’s face quite so soon but he will give her a gentle reminder once things have settled down because he is the calmest, most tolerant person on the planet until you mess with someone he loves or cares for and then you are done for.

Drew and Percy are a very odd duo and a very frightening one. To others that is. They are actually very wholesome together.

Drew Tanaka gives Percy the safe space he needs to be a complete and utter bitch without remorse and thats why I believe with all my heart that they’re really close friends. No, I do not take constructive criticism.

[changingplumbob]

First Impressions - Alaina

How do you feel so far?

A sixty-four! Back of the pack? Who's tallying the scores? If it was Deanna I would have been near the top if not AT the top! sighs It's fine, it's fine. Just have to show the judges of whatever challenges they give us that I'm the best option here.

Abigail

She's quite imaginative! She showed me pictures of some of her Latte Art and if she wants to make me coffee every morning... girl could get used to that!

Nathalie

I find Nathalie . . . *scrunches nose* She's quite unreliable if I do say so myself. If she can't hold down a job for more than a year how is she going to provide for a woman like Deanna? Yes I know pot and kettle and all that since I quit my job but I had the same one for YEARS before I left to come here, I can easily find AND KEEP a job when this is all said and done.

Kay

OH. MY. WATCHER! Kay is so fun to be around she's Happy all the time and knows all the best jokes! It took a hot minute for her to not be so shy with me but I think we could be the best of friends!

Nephinae

Nephinae seems very familiar to me but I didn't get to chat with her too much on the Deja Vu I feel around her. Is she a celebrity or something? Things could be very interesting between us indeed. Oh she's been on other Reality Shows? She said so in her introduction with Deanna? Yeah I didn't bother watching any of those, didn't think it mattered.

Kristina

Kristina is great! I've had so much fun talking to her. She can jump from one subject to the next and back around again and the conversation never gets boring.

Alaina created and written by @hashimasims

[blackened-angel]

I'm personally not looking forward to the Netflix adaptation of Devil May Cry.

With the new trailers, I wanted to share my opinions again but I will say that this post isn't recommended for those who only have praise and that any criticism is forbidden.

It's a pretty long post where I try to explain what is my main problem with the adaptation and that is the person who is directing it.

I highlighted some parts that I hope you can at least read those ones, but if I were to give you a TL;DR it would be this:

If you want to make an adaptation based on an IP that's been around for a while, even if you proclaim that you're fan, at the very least be modest and try not to cause trouble with your audience, given that you're supposed to be a professional in the industry and perhaps trying desperately to please everyone isn't such a good idea because you might be hanging with the wrong crowd and that will reflect on your image.

Sorry but I'm not interested to coddle that guy so if that brief summary is enough to make you displeased, I'm asking you not to read any further.

So, will talk about why it's difficult for me to praise Netflix Devil May Cry. It's because of the person attached to it.

I've criticized aspects of this adaptation before and while the majority will get angry because the show hasn't come out yet, thus any criticism is invalid, personally, what I have seen so far has been enough for me to have a disdain for it because one of my favorite series is being handled by someone who has never done anything with it before.

Proclaiming to be a fan doesn't automatically mean that it will be a masterpiece and for someone who is allegedly a professional in the industry, their conduct reflects on the product and others that are involved.

Also, just saying, that I refuse to use the word "anime".

Pseudo-anime perhaps but I'm sorry, DMC The Animated Series from 2007, that's the only Devil May Cry anime. I don't see any 'bishounen'/ biseinen' . Have you?

Anime, to someone like me who has been into anime and manga for two decades, is animation produced in Japan, primarily for the Japanese audience, with aesthetic that is different from Western animations.

So yeah I'm just gonna say Netflix DMC.

Ok, so, let's return to the subject, but first, I want to ask you and of course, you can provide examples because from my experience, I haven't seen anime studios acting so desperate like Shankar.

Please tell me if you have seen anime studios on their social media accounts being so friendly with people?

At most, there are some who on some occasions retweet fan creations like art or cosplay but in general they just post information regarding what they are producing, trailers or key visuals, but they don't engage much with the audience.

They are just working on the stuff they want to deliver to their audience, hoping they will enjoy it and look into feedback afterwards.

How many anime studios have you seen bragging like Shankar has been doing?

He actually said on Twitter "I never miss."

Oh and on a few occasions, this grown-ass man kept referring to himself in 3rd person, somehow thinking his fans will find it...cute? Yeah, so it was more like "Adi Shankar never misses."

It's obnoxious. You can tell me that he was joking, but he seems committed to his whole "I never miss with my projects" bit, so it's kind of hard to tell.

Oh and do you think it's also adorable when he reposted people's fanart without crediting? Even when some of them had watermarks?

Like I'm not kidding. If you follow him on Twitter, there were a few times when he was called out for not properly crediting artists and you'd think he'd stop after being told once but no.

In addition to that, one time when I was reading the comments on a reposted artwork, there were only two people that mentioned the artist while the rest of them didn't even ask things like "Hey did you draw this? Did the animation team do it?"

It seemed that even though they must have known it wasn't art made by Shankar or the ones doing the animation, they treated like it was no biggie if he was reposting.

As a professional, allegedly, he should have never done such a thing, but most of his followers seem treat him like "oh he's just enthusiastic, cut him some slack, don't be mean to him".

And we know that in general, anyone else who would do that sort of thing just once would get torn apart by others, but with that guy apparently we must be indulgent.

When caught in the act, he did apologize but like...shouldn't he know better? He most likely expects that everyone will forgive him for anything he does.

Thus, can you understand why I'm having a tough time to like something from that person? Who keeps bragging, promising the best anime ever, acting as if he invented DMC...

That's a person who is supposed to be a professional in the industry, yet he as only been acting like a redditor...And of course he promotes a lot of memes. Gee, I wonder who's the intended audience?

He's been desperately trying to please everyone.

This is why I like the way anime studios conduct their promotion for their projects. They are humble and want to avoid causing problems t and that's why they generally just post information, artwork, trailers etc..

That's something I personally appreciate.

Shankar has only been off-putting...Honestly, what the heck was Capcom thinking?

Apparently he wanted Dino Crisis, but Capcom was like, have DMC instead. It feels like they were saying "yeah do whatever with this IP, doesn't matter", as if DMC isn't popular, which was proven by the popularity poll they hosted.

I feel like this adaptation is mostly for the people that know DMC just from memes and I'm sorry for the long time fans that will most likely get insulted and told to shut up by the people who will only watch this generic Marvel/DC looking animation and be told that DMC is only good because of Shankar or think he should be in charge of other Devil may Cry projects.

So yeah, to me, above all is that narcissistic man who has been trying so hard to please everyone.

No, I don't think it's endearing when he spoke in 3rd person and claims that he never misses with his projects. I did not find it cute when he went on to say stuff like Vergil is a hero and other bullshit, because some people would believe those will actually be the characterizations in the show, only for Shankar to post something like "I'm joking, I'm just a troll" after those kinds of posts, wanting to gain sympathy from people, to see just how much of a fun guy he is and you must definitely watch his DMC "anime".

We already had the reboot that was supposed to appeal to the Western audience because Capcom thought the original series isn't appealing to westerners, but man were they wrong. Still hate it for the fact that they mocked the OG series and here we are again, another production that's mostly for the western audience.

So yeah, I'm just not a fan of how much that man has been boasting and assuring everyone how great the show will be.

Perhaps, for some of you, it will the greatest "anime" ever, he keeps telling you that! But not for me. I don't appreciate the shit I've seen him do on Twitter done and as much as he brags that failure never happens for Adi Shankar, not everyone is of the same opinion.

If it turns out that it might fail the expectations of those who only praised, what then? Will they keep praising despite being disappointed so that the series keeps getting content, even if it might be the same quality or even worse?

I think that will send the message to the bigwigs that those people are willing to consume anything.

Like I've mentioned thought out the post, I personally would have appreciated humbleness instead of someone trying so desperately to please everyone.

I'm not sorry for what I said and I know there must be others who share my opinions.

If you have made it this far, I thank you!

[utilitycaster]

Do you think fan reaction to Laura characters (most sharply seen with Imogen and Jester), is because a large portion of those problem fans see those characters as, rather than actual characters with agency and interiority, but vessels for their wish-fufillment? Especially when it comes to things like romantic relationships, power, being girly-pop/a girl-fail/girl-boss (to put it reductively), and, with Jester specifically, almost universally adored.

This would go some way to explaining why they seem to disregard Laura, Laura's intent, and any criticism of said character. Because it goes beyond "you can't criticize that character because they are my favorite" to sometimes "you can't criticize that character because they are ME."

Perhaps I am just (I suppose this is petty to say) too comfortable with my self as a person to ever wish to base my enjoyment of a story on whether, not even that I can relate to the characters, but that I can effectively use a singular character as a vehicle for my own wants and needs. Certainly, there is a place for those sorts of characters and wish-fufillment stories. Whole sub-genres of Romance are based around this. Yet, it boggles my mind when people try to apply this to works in genres that do not actually support it and then get angry when it doesn't meet their expectations. Sure, there are no rules about being a fan, do as you wish, but when this sort of behavior seems tied to some of the worst behavior exhibited in the fandom, it does beg some discussion.

(This is not a condemnation of the characters themselves, or Laura, Vex and Jester are wonderful, and while I have problems with Imogen tied to the larger structural issues of C3, as a concept and on paper, she had potential for being a great study in power and powers corruption....which I'm now realizing could have been an amazing throughline theme for C3 as a whole, if anyone had seized the reigns and drove it along that path intentionally, but, world of pudding, oh well. This is purely a criticism of a certain fandom trend.)

So here's what's interesting - the way fans saw Jester (and to a lesser extent, Vex, at least post-c1 since I was not around for C1) and the way fans saw Imogen, at least after a while, are very different in my opinion!

The Vex, Jester, and early Imogen view was very much, yes, wish fulfillment, but it was also especially tied to shipping (for multiple different potential partners, ie, this was pretty common for ships with both Beau and Caleb in C2), and yeah, much of it was projection. That does fit into, as you say, the romance novel wish fulfillment model. I remember that my shipping/multishipping philosophy throughout C2 was "whomever Jester chooses," and I was pretty vocal about that and a lot of people who have since rage quit the fandom over this ship had no issue with that for a long time. The thing is, then when she chose, suddenly to many of those people she was a stupid little girl who didn't know what she was doing and who should be miserable and punished for her transgression of not doing the romance they wanted her to do. Vex is actually kind of interesting in that I'm sure someone is out there who treats her as a shipping doll for Percy; but more frequently I saw the same Marisha and Liam stan problem, of Vex only in the context of "person Keyleth looks up to but also who should date Keyleth and be second to the Tempest, a thing which would make Vex miserable if you have even the slightest idea of her character" or only in the context of Vax's sister (the vessel of grief problem I ran into when I joined the fandom as someone who liked Vex as a character more than Vax and saw that half the content was just Vex Is So Sad Forever.)

Imogen started out this way - the oh my god she's a widdle baby girl with headaches and nightmares that the more worldly Laudna kisses better - but that quickly failed to be supported by the text, and Laudna as a character failed to fit the Keyleth or Beau model of Most Cool And Powerful and so actually, as I've observed before, a lot of the Marisha Stans of yore left because Laudna didn't support their idea. And similarly, a lot of the people who'd claimed to like Jester were gone over C2 shipping bullshit, and that vacuum was filled by the Campaign 3 fans, many of whom were overall new to the show.

Now, Imogen is unavoidably a central character of Campaign 3, with particular narrative importance compared to other PCs - it would be ridiculous to say otherwise. But here's the twist (and god i gotta finish my post about this): a lot of the C3 fans who came in to fill the vacuum that Marisha Character Stan With Laura Character As Wish Fulfillment were not the "um, actually, Beau and Keyleth are the leaders and the best characters" sort of person, even though, hilariously, Imogen is closer to that than either of them were (and I say this as someone who enjoys Beau and Keyleth very much, I just don't subscribe to the They Are Leaders Who Are Always Right mentality).

A lot of C3 fans were much more enamored of a new model of blorbo: not the coolest hottest most powerful badass (though occasionally they'll dip into that, especially when they shift into mindless bean counter mode), but rather, the most perfect spotless sacrificial lamb, who is eternally wronged and eternally gracious and when they're not gracious it's because they've had so much trauma and you can't expect them to be gracious all the time but they're always so good and you can't criticize them because they've had such a hard life, and also they belong to at least one oppressed group so if you criticize them you aren't just mean to someone who should never be criticized, you are also probably a bigot and a bad and ontologically evil person.

So Imogen is that. She's not wish fulfillment as the coolest person ever; nor is she wish fulfillment as "person banging the character they think is the coolest person ever"; she is, in their minds, wish fulfillment for "person who can never be criticized." Which is closer to what you said.

Unfortunately for them, this sort of person doesn't really exist, like, at all. I think there's cases where one should be judicial about one's criticism, but actually talking shit about fictional characters is, as a rule, morally neutral. There are things you can say about individual fictional characters that are bigoted, and there's patterns of behavior towards fictional characters that show a more subtle bias rooted in bigotry, and there's far more things you can say about fictional characters that are simply in poor taste or indicate the person doing the criticism is a fucking idiot, but you are always allowed to not like a character because of their actions and behaviors within a narrative, and vocalize or write this sentiment.

This did not sit well with many people, who thought they'd found an ironclad way to never be criticized again, probably because they are stupid as fuck because what kind of idiot thinks this is a possibility.

Now I would be remiss in saying this was unique to Laura; this was a C3 problem generally and spread to Laudna/Marisha and Ashton/Taliesin (the "she literally was traumatized? they're literally punk?????" defenses) as well, and infects discourse about Campaign 3 still because at the core of it, a lot of Bells Hells fans, in their fragility, want that wish fulfillment and are really mad that people are like "oh, you don't like that I'm criticizing you or the thing you like? sounds like a you problem" even though it literally is. While the treating Laura's character like a self-insert issue was a problem in past campaigns (and I think the fact that Vex and Jester had those more slow-burn, background arcs made them appealing targets) I don't think that particular segment of Imogen's fans want to be her; they just want the nonexistent immunity they made up for her to be true for them.

[helliloveit]

Heavens

First fanfic ever, didn’t proofread and on top of that my english is not that good so pardon me please, and let me know if i need to fix something.

Benjamin “Dex” Poindexter x reader

Warnings: Dark!Dex, reader is kinda dark too, fluff(?, Dex is obsessed with you, he stalks you.

W. C.: 800

Summary: Your coworker enters your home while you’re asleep; you don’t know what to think.

You move swiftly the key in the lock of the main door of your house, your steps always so light, your body so relaxed, the lack of sleep turning down your system even before you allowed it to do. The purse landing on your kitchen aisle, the sound of your shoes tackling no-sense on the floor as you take them off. Then the shower, your work is so damn tiring, he knows, cause little later you fall on the bed in a deep, very deep slumber.

It is so deep you can’t hear him entering there, your room, to look at you sleeping peacefully, your chest rising and falling rhythmically, your skin so soft he is aching to manhandle it between his fingers, but he’s better than that, right?

It’s okay if he tracks all your schedule, know all your friends, your likes and dislikes, your eccentric music taste, the name of your last cat that, by the way, disappeared last year when he escaped into the streets, a rainy night, just like this one. None of this had you told him, but for Dex, it doesn’t matter as long as you don’t know, after all, he’s keeping you safe.

He does remember your teary face, the way those brows contorted and the eyes, red and glassy, he did his best consoling you, yes he did, cause since then, you haven’t stop greeting him with a hug and a smile at the office, your beautiful smile, yes, he’s sure, you may love him.

———————————————————————————

You have known him for a while now, looked like the type of person who knew what to say and how to say it in the exact moment needed, weird thing cause he doesn’t talk much and that certainly made you like him, he reminded you of yourself, calm, silent yet observant, you were taught that the less you talk, the less you expressed yourself, the better the people around you will treat you. You weren’t sure if that was his reasons though, sometimes, when your eyes met his briefly, his own orbs, blue and colorful, looked empty, colorless, void, once bright teals turns themselves into dark greys without any emotion, any hint of humanity in them. And then you felt something like…dread, your mouth dry but your treacherous heart would be at the pit of your throat, and that described perfectly how you feel for him just right now.

You suspect that a rough thumb grazing your lower lip made you stumble outta your dreams, you were quick when the light coming from the window parallel to your bed faltered. A broad figure stood right by your side, you didn’t scream, or shoved him away, your blood froze inside your veins, and you was left there, like a small cat who knows that the best thing to do was stay quiet and hold together until the predator loses interest in them. This wasn’t the case.

—“I’m sorry-” His voice cracks the chill silence of the room.

“Dex? How could you-” a humid breeze grazes your skin and you suddenly don’t need any answers. He turns himself back to close the window when he notices your squint. That was the perfect opportunity to knock him down, the base of your lamp is hard enough to make him fall for a good 3 minutes, which will help you get out of the house and shout for aid, but a part of you didn’t want that. Hell if you weren’t twisted too, if you didn’t want to know how deep the emptiness of his soul will lead you.

—“Im so sorry princess i- just needed to see you.” Your face contorts in confusion, you left your shift 4 hours ago, last time you saw him.

—“Dex this is so weird i-”

—“No.” His tone is severe, stops you from settling seated on the bed. —“Please just-… i wont do anything to you just…” his knee rest tentatively on the soft mattress, you gulp, your eyes fixed in his, he seems troubled, debates with himself, fighting his urges inside his mind. A hand crossed the little space between you both to caress the side of your neck, his head tilts until his forehead is resting on yours, his shallow breathing tickling your skin.

—“Let me stay here a little longer, please…” he almost whimpers, his hand growing cold in your cheek, He must be nervous, like the world is one step away from crumbling beneath his feet.

—“This won’t happen again, i promise-” How could you say no when he is rambling and begging like this? You knew this is twisted but this isn’t like he assaulted you, is it?

You scoot over to make enough space for him in your sheets, he trails back but he catches it soon, you are offering him a warm space in your bed, a scene he has only witnessed in his most intimate dreams. He’s not dumb to let it slide so he takes off his not so wet jacket now and kick his boots away.

Sweet heavens, he feels your respiration on his neck now, so warm, so vulnerable, so his. He got it done, he got you, his method pretty away to be conventional, but that doesn’t matter anymore, no when you have your leg and arm draped over him.

Anyways he wasn’t going to leave if you told him no. Maybe he needs to put some flowers in that kitty’s grave.

[fiamat12]

RE: Prevalence and use of NDAs

In the movie Red, White, and Royal Blue NDA’s are mentioned as a standard course of action for hook ups among politicians and families.

The president’s adult son is found with someone his room and the assistant who is in charge of monitoring the campaign/PR/cleaning up messes says, “I’ll bet you didn’t even have her sign an NDA!”

The implication was that for this high profile individual person, the NDA would be signed prior to any funny business as a standard course of action.

It makes sense to me that actors and anyone else in the private eye, especially those who work for a large production franchise (Like SL/Bton) would be instructed to follow the same precautions to avoid any scandals or public relations faux pas.

We don’t know how it all played out, but since A has already revealed enough to cause a scene in the fandom, and I assume L wouldn’t want to sabotage his own career, I’d imagine something went awry and she either didn’t sign one initially, and then ended up with more information/leverage that she could use to her advantage, and/or she didn’t stick to it or tried to get around it to serve her purposes by using anonymous tips to gossip writers, ghost written articles, and posts that imply things without outright stating them, often which are deleted later to maintain plausible deniability. If they (L&A) started out as friends, I’d can’t imagine them continuing to be friendly unless this was all a subterfuge that she was in on, and if so it was very messily done.

☝️I think you meant public eye Anon but private eye is funnier since Lukola has been so secret lol

Interesting thought on the blind items. I will say the People intern who kept writing adjacent articles of "packing on the PDA" lol seems to be in A's peer group 🤷🏼‍♀️

Imo, I don't think L & A had a relationship of any note, perhaps went on mostly group dates at best. I do agree that he prob. didn't have her sign an NDA, let her into the friend group prematurely and she had way too much info. to leverage about his personal life. Perhaps it isn't anything super scandalous in the big scheme, but seeing as fans were already touchy about Jade and his HBS and even brothel Colin, having A run her mouth just as S3 came out AND w/ him & N newly committed/ expecting, it could've been a PR disaster (which sadly it ended up being anyway).

My partner's take: "She's a vindictive B" (enough said lol)

Comments from the Discord peanut gallery ⬇️

"I can imagine that NDAs wouldn’t have crossed his mind with his friend group at the time since he’d known most of them since childhood. (Well, at least the guys.) I think it has certainly turned into a lesson in trust for all of them as they navigate becoming and living as celebrities"

" I don’t think he necessarily slept with her. Not because I don’t think it’s possible for him to have casually hooked up with her. But instead, because of what he did after that, and that is the awkwardness and disrespect to Nic of letting her be around so much after that. Don’t let your booty call turn up at the London press call or be around at the Valentine’s Day event, etc. Imagine letting her still go on the March LA trip while you're already dating Nic again [about to get engaged!]. He wouldn’t do that to Nic. Instead, that suggests to me that he kissed her a few times and she started to hope she could turn it in to more, but he never saw it as more. I do think he messed up by not getting her to sign an NDA from the start. I think he was modest and naive about the level of fame he was about to achieve."

[featherlight-touches]

Hello! I love your fics, and there is like no tk content of Baizhu, mayhaps I request ler Baizhu pls? Lee can be anyone you like. I love Baizhu sm.

Thank youuu :>

aaah thank you so much!! I'm super happy you love them. 💚 ler Baizhu you say? coming right up! you're right, I've not seen much tk content for him. LET'S CHANGE THAT! here you go! I've put lee Aether with him. This is my first time writing for this character, so I apologise if it's slightly ooc djekjhf! I hope you enjoy!

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

Aether sat patiently upon the examination bed within the Bubu Pharmacy back room, his eyes wandering around the room as he took in all the details of his surroundings.

There stood a tall cabinet that had many shelves with a myriad of medical herbs and elixirs within each drawer which filled the room with a pungent scent.

It reminded him of his visits to Tighnari for similar check-ups in Gandharva Ville, though the interior designs were very different.

Aether shifted slightly, letting his legs kick idly as he waited. He appreciated moments to just sit down and take a breather from his travels, though admittedly, he did miss having Paimon to talk to. The silence could be very loud sometimes, and it reminded him just how much he appreciated the gluttonous fairy.

She had elected to wait with Xiangling and get some food while Aether went for his check-up, which he didn’t think would take long, but he had been waiting for almost twenty minutes.

Aether sighed, letting himself fall back onto the bed to stare up at the ceiling but decided that there was nothing of interest to be found up there either, so to cure his boredom, he hoisted himself up and walked over to the cabinet.

He opened one of the drawers and found some small bottles inside, each containing a different type of medicine or herb. A bottle containing a red liquid caught his eye and it was curiously lifted into his hand.

The small bottle had text written on it and he kind of wished that Paimon was present to translate for him. He hadn’t quite grasped of all the languages in Teyvat yet, but he was slowly progressing.

“Curious, aren’t you?” Baizhu’s sudden voice startled a squeak from Aether, who comically began juggling the bottle to ensure he didn’t drop it and its contents to the ground.

“Ah, Baizhu! You scared me,” he gave a nervous chuckle, clutching the bottle to his chest. “Sorry for snooping around…” he then placed the bottle back where he had found it.

“Not at all,” Baizhu chuckled, heading over to the bed. “I’m sorry for keeping you waiting. Qiqi needed some assistance with someone’s prescription at the front desk, which took a little longer than I had anticipated.”

“It’s fine,” Aether assured with a smile as he walked back over to the bed and took a seat. “I hope you and Changsheng are well.”

“Ah yes, we’re both quite fine. Wouldn’t you agree?” Baizhu asked the snake who sat comfortably in her usual spot around his shoulders.

“Oh yes,” Changsheng responded, the usual hiss in her voice. “Although we had a small incident involving the Director of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor recently.”

“Oh, that’s right.”

“Hu Tao at it again, huh?” Aether asked, sounding almost amused. Despite his absence, the antics from all his friends in Liyue always seemed to carry on, which was a calming thought.

“She is the persistent one, that’s for sure.” Baizhu sounded almost tired, but before Aether could comment further, the doctor took a step closer. “But let’s not waste any more of your precious time. I’m sure you have other places to be, being as busy as you are.”

Aether nodded and answered all the questions that Baizhu asked him, regarding his eating, his exercise and any sicknesses had in other nations. It all went down on the medical records that Baizhu kept for Aether.

“It certainly sounds like you’ve been very busy on your travels. I’m impressed you’ve made it out of some of those scrapes in one piece,” Baizhu commented, writing down the last of the information provided.  “Now all that’s left for us to do here is to give you a quick physical exam and make sure everything is as it should be. If you would, please remove your top.”

“Sounds good,” Aether nodded, removing his top piece of clothing and then watched as Baizhu reached for his stethoscope that he kept in his desk not far from the bed.

The doctor then approached with his stethoscope, a gentle smile on his face as he began to listen to the blonde’s heartbeat. But as soon as the cool metal touched Aether’s chest, he couldn’t help but let out a small giggle, his body squirming at the ticklish sensation.

“Oh?” Baizhu raised an eyebrow, amused by the reaction. “Sorry, I should have given a little more warning.”

“I-It’s fine,” Aether bit his lip to try and stop his giggles, his cheek warming up in embarrassment. But try as he might, he couldn’t seem to stop the giggles that bubbled up each time the stethoscope moved to a new spot.

“Now, Aether,” Baizhu chided gently, though there is a playful glint in his eye. “Please try to hold still.”

“Sensitive, isn’t he?” Changsheng commented watching the squirming traveller try and keep his composure.

“Sohohorry” Aether tried, he really did.

“I would like to check your ribs,” Baizhu put down his stethoscope. “You mentioned a recent battle that you injured them in. Am I fine to proceed?”

“Sure…” Aether felt nervous; his body was already sensitive but now that he was in a giggly mood this was sure to be a challenge. He took in a deep breath and kept himself composed and dignified. At least, that was until Baizhu placed his fingers gently to Aether’s ribs and he immediately flinched. “Sorry, sorry!”

“I had no idea you were this ticklish, Aether,” Baizhu definitely sounded amused, which only flustered the blonde traveller more.

“I can’t help it,” Aether pouted.

“It’s alright. Just try your best to remain still and this will all be over soon,” his fingers resumed lightly pressing and prodding, checking that all of Aether’s ribs were as they should be. This only served to tickle Aether even more, his laughter growing louder and more uncontrollable.

“Wahahait, plehehease stohohop!”

Baizhu’s fingers paused, watching Aether settle down.

“I don’t think we’re going to get this done at this rate, you know.”

“I thihink my ribs are fine,” Aether giggled, shyly trying to move away from the doctor’s fingers. The look in Baizhu’s eyes changed, gone was the usual professional doctor and was now replaced with a playful Baizhu.

His fingers began to deliberately wiggle up and down Aether’s ribs, reducing the smaller male into a mess of giggles and squirms.

“Nohoho! Bahahaizhu!” Aether howled, his legs kicking and stomping the ground. “I cahahan’t!”

“You refused to stay still, and our check-up is not yet complete,” Baizhu allowed his fingers to dance up to his highest ribs, which Aether squealed at and used his arms to trap and block the fingers from going any further. “Now, now, this won’t do. How will I ever be able to check your ribs if you block me out like this?”

“NoHOho moHOhore!” Aether had tears of mirth forming in his eyes, his hair braid swishing left and right from all the squirming. “PLEHEHEASE! AHAHAHA!”

Baizhu couldn’t help but chuckle at the desperate pleas once his trapped fingers began to tap at the blonde’s underarms. Aether released Baizhu’s hands but hastily moved away from the cruel doctor.

“Alright, alright,” Baizhu smiled. “I think that concludes our check-up for today.”

“That was rather eventful than our usual check-ups,” Changsheng hissed a small laugh, both doctors looking at the exhausted traveller who gasped greedily for air.

“Noho kidding…” Aether wiped at his eyes to rid himself from the tears that were recently shed from laughter.

“Well, the good news is, is that you’re completely fine. Nothing worrying or troublesome to report here today,” The green-haired male walked over to his desk with the rest of the paperwork, writing down the rest of his information. “Though, that being said, I would like to issue caution in your future adventures.”

“Of course,” Aether nodded, smiling with reassurance. He reached over to his top and began to dress himself accordingly.

“That’s it for now, then. We hope to see you again soon, Aether.”

“Thank you, Baizhu. Changsheng. Until next time!” Aether waved goodbye to the doctor and his snake, leaving the Bubu Pharmacy and had to think about how in Teyvat was he going to explain to Paimon what kind of check-up he just went through.

[gatheringbones]

[“Georgia and Sue continued their search for literature with positive role models. Georgia, who had come out in high school, explained to Sue that "our voices were absent from literature. It's very sad that there is not more." They had heard about The Ladder and the Daughters of Bilitis. “Georgia and I tried very hard to find a copy; we didn't know how to find it! We wanted very badly to try to connect with that network, but everything was so invisible." Soon they journeyed beyond the university library.

We longed for a body of literature to read, and slowly we discovered the hidden lesbian characters. We had discussions about whether we thought that between the lines the author had intended for there to be just a hint. In the works of Emily Dickinson, Edna St. Vincent Millay, Willa Cather, and May Sarton we searched for the" hidden" lesbian, and there were two who seemed more obvious: Gertrude Stein and Sappho. We had several books of Sappho's poetry that we had given each other as gifts. Here there was no question about lesbianism, but we were interested if this was a real person. Finally we found some of the early pulp paperback books in the old Greyhound bus station: Odd Girl Out, Women's Barrack's, Warped Desire, Sorority House. We devoured all of those books and, of course, realized that they were a very different genre than The Well of Loneliness.

In her sophomore year, Sue continued to live on campus while Georgia lived with her mother. At the end of the semester, Sue had just completed her last exam after cramming in three all-nighters. Relaxing in her room that Friday afternoon, she waited for Georgia to pick her up for their well-deserved holiday. The phone rang at four o'clock. It was Dean Lois J. Duckworth, who had been the chair for campus orientation while Sue served as student chair that fall semester. “Back then there were very few women professors," Sue emphasized. “I had gone through my entire four years without ever having one! So when I had the opportunity to work at the dean's office I reveled in it. Here was a woman twenty or thirty years older, in a position of power and authority, and highly educated." The dean asked Sue to come to her office.

I told her I was getting ready to spend semester break off campus: “Dean Duckworth, I'm just exhausted. Would you mind if I made an appointment and saw you when I come back in two weeks?"

Her response was very icy. “No. You must come see me immediately."

Dean Duckworth was tall and starchy. A very severe disciplinarian, she wore her black hair cut short and bright red lipstick with never a smile.

Sue called Georgia to tell her of the slight change in plans, asking her to wait at home until she returned from the dean's office. “Take off your ring, Sue," Georgia pleaded unsuccessfully.

Sue walked the short distance to Dean Duckworth's office. As she entered the office, the secretaries were dutifully completing their tasks. Two paused, peering up from their typewriters to greet Sue. “I had to sit in the waiting room in the presence of these secretaries who had always known me because of my accomplishments on campus that were positive, not because I was involved in any discipline matter. I was absolutely fear-stricken that these women might have knowledge of precisely what Dean Duckworth was going to discipline me over.”

As Sue worried about what the secretaries might or might not know and considered various concerns that the dean might bring to her, she squirmed in a chair as the minute hand slowly swept up the time. A secretary's voice pierced Sue's private world: “Dean Duckworth will see you now, Miss Sponnoble."

Sue trudged down a long narrow hallway, stopping at the slightly ajar door. She hesitated. Sitting sternly behind her oak desk, Dean Duckworth beckoned her. In the cramped office with 1950s-style furnishings, there was no escape. The dean came directly to the point:

"Well, I need to tell you that there have been extensive rumors about you and Georgia. I have heard from numerous sources that you and Georgia are lesbians. Do you know what that means?"

Feeling a combination of fear and anger, queasily Sue calculated her response hoping not to appear upset. “No. Georgia who?"

"Well, in some college settings where girls live together and don't have an opportunity to be with boys they show unnatural affection for one another. Perhaps that has happened in your case?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

Dean Duckworth pressed further. “Is there any chance that any affection might have occurred in your room?"

Sue continued with denials.

"Well, when things like this don't happen in girls' dormitories, they happen in girls' sororities. Sometimes these are merely phases that girls go through. Maybe you are going through such a phase?"

Sue blankly responded, “I have no idea what you are talking about." Dean Duckworth unlocked her top desk drawer, slowly pulling out a yellowed file. “Sue, I want you to carefully examine the contents of this folder." Opening it, Sue was startled to see newspaper articles from across the country about students expelled because of their homosexuality. Her ears reddened and blood pounded in her quickly drying throat: “I don't see what this has to do with me. I don't understand."

"We happen to know that your parents are extremely prominent. Imagine how you would feel if you brought this kind of shame on them. If you're expelled you will never get into any college or university again. You will never have a college education."

Sue was dumbfounded. The dean went on to explain that an article, like those in the folder, might well appear in Sue's hometown newspaper. Incredulously Sue asked, “But how would such an article get up there?"

“We will place it there!"

A long silence was broken by Dean Duckworth's demand: “I want Georgia to make an appointment with me."

Sue's throat cleared as questions flowed forth: “Why is this happening to me? Why are you doing this? What am I supposed to do? What do you intend to do?"

Dean Duckworth first explained about the Johns Committee and the importance of reputation for institutions as well as individuals. “If you wish to stay here, then you must prove to us that you are not a homosexual. You must date men and report to me periodically on your progress."]

James T. Sears, from Lonely Hunters: An Oral History of Lesbian and Gay Southern Life, 1948-1968

[pascalislove]

ANGEL: SALESMAN X F!READER PART 13

Summary: She was an angel and she should be his.

After Y/N confessed her love and surrendered to Gong Yoo’s lips, the chaos around them became distant.

The two men who had attacked her lay on the ground—one of them completely unconscious, his face destroyed by Gong Yoo’s blows.

Gong Yoo still had his hands and face covered in blood.

Y/N took a deep breath and clung to his shirt.

“We have to call the police.”

Gong Yoo nodded, though his gaze remained dark.

He wasn’t done yet.

But Y/N was his priority.

He pulled out his phone and called emergency services.

When the officers arrived, Y/N recounted what had happened, her voice trembling.

“They tried to rob the store… and I don’t know what else they wanted to do to me.”

Gong Yoo, his expression hard, intervened.

“Luckily, I got here in time and stopped them.”

The officer looked at the two men on the ground, then at Gong Yoo.

“You took them down by yourself?”

Gong Yoo didn’t smile, but something in his eyes looked satisfied.

“Seems like they weren’t very smart.”

The officer sighed and ordered the two men to be arrested.

The unconscious one was taken to the hospital immediately.

Y/N shuddered as she watched them being handcuffed and dragged out of the bookstore.

When the officer returned to take the final statements, he looked at Gong Yoo with a hint of respect.

“You may have gone a little overboard with the second guy, but if it weren’t for you, this could’ve ended much worse.”

Gong Yoo didn’t respond.

He only looked at Y/N.

And at that moment, he knew.

From that day forward, he would never leave her side.

Weeks later…

Y/N was never alone again.

Gong Yoo was always nearby.

He took her to work. Picked her up at the end of the day. Made sure she was safe.

And even though Y/N knew his presence was suffocating, she couldn’t help but feel protected.

But Gong Yoo wasn’t done with this matter yet.

There was still one thing left to take care of.

The man who had sent those two thugs to the bookstore.

The real problem.

And Gong Yoo intended to handle it personally.

That night…

Gong Yoo walked into an old nightclub.

The lights were dim, the music blared, and at one of the private tables, a man in his forties was calmly drinking expensive whiskey.

Gong Yoo approached without an invitation.

The man looked up and smiled.

“Well, well… you’re not Min-Soo.”

Gong Yoo sat across from him, calm and composed.

“No. But I’m here for him.”

The man raised an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah? What do you want?”

“To pay his debt.”

There was a pause before the man let out a laugh.

“Do you have any idea how much that idiot owes?”

“Tell me.”

The man smirked mockingly and pulled out a paper detailing everything Min-Soo owed, including interest.

Gong Yoo didn’t even blink.

He opened his briefcase and pulled out the exact amount in cash.

The man looked at the money and clicked his tongue.

“I guess his whore of a sister got lucky.”

Gong Yoo froze.

Slowly, he turned to look at him.

“What did you just say?”

The man smirked, confident and foolish.

“I said that whore got lucky.”

Mistake.

In a brutal motion, Gong Yoo grabbed the man’s head and slammed it against the table.

The sound was sharp, and a sickening crack filled the air.

The man screamed in pain.

Before he could react, Gong Yoo threw him to the ground and landed a punch straight to his face.

The man’s bodyguards moved, but Gong Yoo shot them a warning glare, and they hesitated.

Gong Yoo knelt beside him and grabbed his right hand.

The man was breathing heavily, still dazed.

“Y-you shouldn’t—”

Before he could finish his sentence, Gong Yoo slowly began to apply pressure on one of his fingers.

“No one talks about my angel like that.”

And he broke it.

The man let out a scream of agony.

Gong Yoo didn’t stop.

One by one, he bent and snapped the man’s fingers.

Slowly.

Savoring every scream, every plea.

When he was done, he let the man writhe on the floor, trembling in pain.

Then, he leaned in close and whispered in his ear:

“If I ever see your men near Y/N, her brother, or her family again… I swear you won’t live to tell the tale.”

He stood up, grabbed his now-empty briefcase, and walked out of the place with steady steps.

It was over.

Except for one thing.

Going back to her.

◇◇◇

The night was silent.

The moon cast a soft glow over the room, illuminating the silhouettes of Y/N and Gong Yoo intertwined beneath the sheets.

She lay on his bare chest, her fingers tracing slow, invisible lines across his skin.

His eyes were closed, his breathing deep and steady.

For the first time in a long time, he was at peace.

Y/N watched him and gently ran her fingertips over the scar that crossed his side.

“Gong Yoo…”

He opened his eyes, looking at her softly.

“Mmm?”

She rested her chin on his chest, gazing at him.

“You never told me about your life.”

He slowly ran his fingers down her bare back.

“What exactly do you want to know?”

“Do you have parents? What was your childhood like?”

Gong Yoo was silent for a moment, his eyes drifting to the ceiling.

“I don’t know if this is something you should hear, Y/N…”

“I want to know,” she whispered, with a tenderness that ached in his chest.

He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment before speaking.

“When I was a kid, I lived in a very poor neighborhood… my family was poor too.”

Y/N noticed how his voice changed, becoming deeper.

“But we lived fine. Until one day, my father lost his job.”

She saw his jaw clench as he said it.

“He became a different man. He started drinking. And when he drank… he became violent.”

Y/N’s fingers stopped moving on his chest.

Gong Yoo took a deep breath.

“He beat my mother… and me too.”

Y/N pressed her lips together.

“When I turned fifteen, I started working. Doing anything. Cleaning, carrying packages late into the night… anything that would earn me money.”

He paused for a few seconds before adding:

“After school.”

“You still went to school?” Y/N whispered, surprised.

He gave a wry smile.

“I wanted to believe something better was waiting for me.”

Her chest tightened.

“When I got home, I gave my mother some of what I earned. I saved the rest, just in case.”

“You were a good son…” she murmured, caressing his face.

Gong Yoo lowered his gaze.

“My mother got sick when I was seventeen.”

A slight chill ran down Y/N’s spine.

“The medicine was expensive. But I did what I could.”

She heard the anger in his voice when he spoke again.

“My father started demanding more money. If I didn’t bring enough, he beat me.”

“God…” Y/N whispered, placing her hand over his heart.

He covered her hand with his.

“That’s when a well-dressed man approached me.”

Gong Yoo let out a humorless laugh.

“I was impressed… because I had never seen someone dressed like that.”

Y/N gave a sad smile.

“What did he say?”

Gong Yoo looked at her.

“He said: ‘You’re strong. Do you want to earn much more than what you make working like this?’”

She swallowed hard.

“And what did you do?”

“I said yes.”

Y/N wasn’t surprised.

He continued.

“He gave me a card with a number and told me to call.”

“Did you call?”

“Yes.”

Gong Yoo took a deep breath before continuing.

“They told me to go to a place in three days.”

Y/N listened, a mix of fear and sadness in her chest.

“I went. But before that, I told my mother I would make a lot of money… that I would come back for her.”

His voice broke slightly.

“I promised her. I told her I loved her.”

Y/N stroked his cheek tenderly.

He looked at her, pain in his eyes.

“She was always good to me.”

Silence settled between them.

Then, he continued.

“That morning, I was taken to an island.”

Y/N’s heart pounded.

“They gave me a red uniform and a black mask with a white circle on the front.”

A shiver ran down her spine.

And she understood.

What he had been.

What he had done.

But still, she touched his face and whispered:

“I love you. No matter what you’ve done.”

Gong Yoo kissed her desperately.

Because in the midst of his darkness, she was his only light.

This story does not follow the plot of the series, tell me if you like it and if you want me to tag you in the chapters🫶

Tag list:

@beebeechaos , @onyxmango , @muchwita @czarinera , @putrescentpoet , @solsticeex , @sowhatwereyousaying

MASTERLIST

[universal-casey]

Act One: Soviet (Chapter 2)

Check it out on AO3!

Do not expect me to have chapter 3 out nearly as quickly lmao. But I was DESPERATE to write more than the little blurb from before

1894

The wayward Prince was avoiding his responsibilities yet again, chuckling to himself as he managed to slip past the gaze of his father’s royal guard. It was always easy. Toss a little rock in the opposite direction of where he wanted to go, and Soviet could easily escape the palace without having to explain every detail of where he planned to go.

Details that would do him well to keep hidden, for the moment.

Today, though, unlike the many other times he’d snuck off, it wasn’t to spend his time knocking the teeth out of other boxers in the area. His knuckles would remain unbruised, and both of his golden eyes would remain wide open.

Today, Soviet mused in his thoughts, bright eyes scanning his father’s courtyard, Today, I’m going to find her.

The Prince had heard many a rumor in St. Petersburg. Rasputin getting cozy with the Romanov Queen, dissent rumbling among the lower class, tensions between Austria-Hungary and Serbia: all of it senseless dribble that his father was certain was just baseless rumors. No, the only rumor Soviet was interested in, was another Earthborn around his age.

According to rumor, not long before Soviet himself was thrust upon his father as an earthen gift, the rumblings that marked his own arrival had been happening throughout St. Petersburg. Cobblestone roads shuddered. Diamonds sprouted in gardens. Foundations came loose. Crude oil seemed to run between cracks in the road. Then, amidst a gathering of peasants protesting something stupid Soviet couldn’t bother remembering, she had sprouted from the very roads of St. Petersburg. An Earthborn given to peasants, of all things!

She would be around nineteen at this time, if the rumors were to be believed. Her very existence fascinated Soviet. What would a Country, an Earthborn Country, raised by peasants be like? Rude and dirty, like his father oft compared Soviet to? Or prim and proper, a true showing of Earthborn nature?

***

Soviet was now long past the courtyard gates of Russian Empire’s palace. He slipped by the Winter Palace, avoiding the eyeline of as many Romanov guards as he could. Though he technically outranked the Romanovs in royal status, Soviet had no doubt they would relay news of his whereabouts to his father.

A chuckle left the Prince. Russian Empire would kill him if he knew where Soviet planned to go.

He slid into place amongst the crowds and pulled a hood over his scarlet face. There was little he could do to hide his true nature, that of being a Country, but he had discovered that if he put in an effort to hide his face, few would question him.

The sound of hooves against the cobblestone roads approached, and a blood-red hand reached out from Soviet’s cloak as he waved down a taxi. He climbed in, pressing his back into the seat as the hardest part of his little journey was behind him.

“Where to, sir?” the driver’s voice was low and rumbling, the result of years of cigars. His horses whinnied impatiently.

“Do you happen to know the whereabouts of a certain peasant-raised Earthborn?” Soviet’s heart raced as he asked the question. If anyone knew of where she could be, it would be the people. Any of his own, or his father’s, attempts to find her came up fruitless. As if she didn’t want to be found.

The cigar smoke caught in the driver’s breath, and Soviet saw his knuckles turn white on the reins. In a puff, the driver coughed and fixed his gaze straight ahead. “Has… the Imperial Russian Empire not given up on those er… rumors?” the question seemed strained. “Surely you wouldn’t want a better use of his time—”

“Russian Empire has no bearing on what I want to do,” Soviet interrupted. It commanded more authority than he intended, but Soviet hated how often he was compared to his father’s interests. He leaned forward, his eyes catching the light of the golden hour and meeting with the taxi driver’s own.

He cracked a smile and pulled his hood back. That didn’t seem to help the situation, however, as the taxi driver’s face paled further. “I swear I’m not bringing any armies or guards. I just want to see her. I won’t tell anyone you took me here, and I won’t tell anyone who or where she is. Please?” Soviet pleaded. He produced a small jewel from his pocket, a trinket he snatched from his father’s droves of treasures. “I can give you this in exchange. Real ruby!”

It wasn’t a huge offer. A measly jewel worth no more than a ten thousand rubels. But it was the most he wanted to steal.

The taxi driver’s eyes widened at the ruby, and a thousand thoughts seemed to run through his mind at once. Steam left his mouth, rising to the roof of the cab in the cold air. “… Okay. I can take you to her usual spot, your Highness,” there was a defeat in his voice as he took the offered ruby from Soviet’s hand.

“You can call me Soviet, sir,” Soviet could feel his father’s disapproving gaze from where he sat. Calling one lesser than himself ‘sir’ would have been cause for another etiquette lesson. He shook the thought. “And… thank you. Really.”

***

Soviet’s heels clicked on the cobbled street as he hopped from the cab. His hood was back over his head, shadowing much of his blood-red face in the increasing darkness. He turned to thank the taxi driver once more, as friendly a smile on his face as he could muster. “Thank you, again.”

“Don’t mention it. You’ll likely find her in the Rumbling Stone. Good luck,” the driver whipped his reins, and the horses began to trot. “You’re going to need it.”

“What an ominous thing to say,” Soviet laughed to himself. How bad could a woman raised by peasants be?

His feet began to take him to his next task: finding out exactly where and what the Rumbling Stone was. Soviet had his fair share of bars he frequented, but he’d never heard of any called “The Rumbling Stone”. Perhaps it was newer? Or dingy, and gross. As many things were in this part of St. Petersburg.

Rotten apples and stale bread lined the un-swept sidewalk, and it took considerable effort to avoid ruining his polished leather shoes. The oil lampposts in this area were dim, many rusted and dingy, and more simply shut off. Did the lamplighters ever get to this area? Or perhaps the lampposts were so old and rusted that oil no longer flowed through them. Soviet rubbed his wrists, subconsciously feeling his own pulse as if he were worried that he was an over-rusted lamppost.

“Our differences aren’t just surface-level, Soviet,” Russian Empire had pulled Soviet in for a lesson. At the age of sixteen, Soviet had noticed the discontent outside the palace gates. He constantly questioned the legitimacy of the Romanovs’ and RE’s rule. “People may try to poison your mind with the thoughts that you don’t deserve the throne. They may try to say that under your scarlet skin, you’re flesh and blood like them. But you’re not.” RE’s finger pressed to the open book detailing human and Country anatomy. “Mineral bones, oil for blood, flesh like clay, we are the furthest thing from the same. Our right to rule is as unbreakable as the diamonds that make our skeletons. They may outnumber us a hundred to one, but they do not have the right to rule like ourselves.”

“What about the Romanovs?” Soviet’s golden eyes flicked to the Winter Palace, the only other palace in St. Petersburg to match his father’s grandiose design. “They’re human. You’ve been here long enough to see a couple generations. Why do they get the same treatment as us, if our divine right is being Earthborn?”

RE’s expression conveyed that of an excited professor. “They’re descended from us. My father, your grandfather, the Tsardom, fathered the Romanov line. They’re a little removed, admittedly, but I see no use in trying to strengthen that relation myself. Their rule is as strong as ever. Remember that. Don’t let the peasantry try and convince you that you’re on their level. Not a drop of the earth is in their veins.”

Soviet was walking amidst his thoughts for so long, he almost didn’t notice the drunkards walking in his direction. They stumbled over the cobblestones, laughing amongst themselves with dirt on their faces and stains on their tattered clothes. Little attention was paid to the hooded Prince, and he kept his head down as he tried to shuffle past them.

“What a beaut, she is!” one sang into the air, breath trailing into the sky like a steam engine.

“White, blue, and red! Colors of the century! Think those’ll be our colors once we get rid of that tacky yellow?” another asked.

Soviet’s ears pricked to the conversation, stopping the momentum of his steps.

The third smacked his companion over the head, and slurred, “Don’t go talking like that! Remember Dmitri? Poor idiot made a whole flag and got himself sent to jail. I heard that ever since, His Royal Highness’s picked up that stupid search again!”

The first snorted. “He’ll have a lot of luck brainwashing her. Never seen a woman as stubborn as her.”

He was close.

Oh, oh he was so close to finding her. Soviet’s golden eyes flicked up to examine the signs, scanning each one to find the “Rumbling Stone”. The drunkards hadn’t gone far. Only a mere two buildings down, amidst the drab of trash, broken barrels, and shattered glass bottles, was a small hanging sign of the very name he was searching for.

His heels clicked as his pace quickened, and Soviet’s princely heart fluttered at the notion of meeting someone like himself that wasn’t his father, or Serbia.

The door of the Rumbling Stone squeaked as he entered, and Soviet felt the eyes of every patron on him. In a moment of weakness, he pulled his hood further over his face to better obscure his scarlet skin. The lights inside were dim, like the lampposts lining the streets. Only these lights seemed to frame everyone’s face in a gaunt, skinny way. Their cheeks appeared sunken in, their eyes seemed dull, and their skin seemed pale and sickly.

Soviet kept his head down, shuffling to the bar as his polished shoes caught the firelight and shined brighter than the eyes of the patrons. His perfectly ironed pants pressed into the grimy bar stool, and his throat cleared. “One… whiskey on the rocks,” his voice lowered an octave, but the uncertainty stood clear.

“If you’re worried about that voice of yours, you could try smoking,” the barmaid’s voice was smooth, light. It carried an airy feel to it that reminded Soviet of his silken sheets back home.

“No, I… I’m not looking for any comment on my… voice,” his cheeks felt warm.

The sound of ice clinking into glass filled his ears. A few seconds later, and a plain whiskey with ice was slid in front of him. “Do you want comments on your outfit, your Highness? Because you’re certainly not doing yourself any favors in that department, either,” the barmaid continued.

Soviet’s breath hitched in his throat, his heart skipping a beat. He knew Countries had trouble disguising their brightly colored bodies, but his outfit? How had that given him away? His eyes flicked up to the barmaid, face considerably paler than before. That’s when he saw it. Saw her. “How did you--?”

“Know it was the Prince? Ignoring the Royal Accent, your pants are ironed and navy blue. And you walk like you’re thinking about it. Not to mention, I’ve heard around town that a certain somebody has been dying to know where I am.”

Her face was round. The word soft came to mind. There was a determined brightness in her eyes, green as Irish pastures. Her long, snow-white hair reminded him of the fluffy clouds in his dreams. Her hands, though delicate in appearance, were rough and calloused on closer inspection. As if she were no stranger to physical labor.

This woman, the unknown and blurry subject of many a dream, was now standing in front of Soviet in true form. She had a full figure, and no doubt was no stranger to dealing with unruly guests. Her gaze held him completely still. Though it was friendly, there was an edge to it. As if she dared him to step out of line.

Her eyes left Soviet’s and moved to a dirty glass. “If you think I’m going to go pretend to be a lost princess or whatever, you’re severely mistaken. I don’t care what the rules are. Or what your pops has to say about it. Nobody stole me from my ‘rightful place,’ and I am definitely not telling you where my parents are,” her words remained succinct, hardly allowing room for argument. “So, you can go ahead and leave that train of thought at the station.”

Soviet’s mind was swimming. Here she was. Right in front of him. And better than he could have ever imagined her being. He held onto his glass of whiskey, his eyes never leaving her as he sat there in complete silence.

“I just hope whatever bribe you paid was worth it. Because you’re not going to find me again,” she continued.

That jolted Soviet out of his stupor. As if on instinct, he downed the entire glass of whiskey and shook his head. “No!” it came out louder than he meant it. Her green eyes fell on Soviet again. “I mean—no, you don’t have to worry about me telling my father. I… I think we started off on the wrong foot, here. I’m Soviet, Prince of the Imperial Russian Empire, heir to the—”

She cut him off. “Don’t need your whole life story.”

“… Ah. S-sorry. I just—”

Second interruption. By the third, Soviet’s father would have someone hanged. But Soviet kept himself in check.

“Mother Russia, okay? That’s my name. Don’t go shouting it to the rooftops, I’m trying to keep this on the downlow.”

“That’s a rather…”

“American way of saying things? Yeah, I’m aware. I know your dad’s got this whole healthy caution of the guy who beat The Great British Empire’s ass, but I think he’s got some good points.”

Soviet couldn’t help the look on his face, seeing a lady curse like that. A grin cracked on Mother Russia’s lips. “Well, go on,” she prompted. “Get back to what you were saying.”

“I…” Soviet waited for a moment. Mother Russia gestured for him to continue. “I just wanted to… see you. I didn’t… know Earthborn could be raised by humans. I’ve got so many questions to ask. So many things I want to know.”

“Well, would you look at that. A prince who wants to know something. Maybe you’re not as bad as your father.”

***

The night was long, and the moon was high. Mother Russia had long since closed the Rumbling Stone for the night; Soviet had since learned that her human parents owned it and named it after her birth.

“Nobody’s seen the earth actually birth something in years, so it was a really impactful event, I’m told,” she sat on the roof of her establishment with Soviet, gazing up at the stars. “Hence why this old place was named the Rumbling Stone. According to my old man, the protesters thought that the earth was going to swallow them up for daring to speak against an Earthborn. But, instead, once the earthquake settled down, a bunch of bricks went flying and there I was. Right at his feet. God, he was so afraid to touch me. One of those ancient rules…”

“Humans aren’t allowed to be the first to touch an Earthborn. He’d be put to death if someone turned him in,” Soviet finished. He was a few whiskeys deep, now. The nerves that wracked his body earlier in the night were gone, instead replaced a deep focus on every one of Mother Russia’s words.

Mother Russia nodded, her expression hardening as she looked out to the low rooftops of St. Petersburg’s poorer district. Russian Empire’s palace, Soviet’s home, stood tall and bright against the drab foreground. “It’s a stupid rule. I won’t even dignify it with calling it a law. It’s just another one of those stupid things used to keep us separated.”

“But we aren’t the same. It’s not just our faces. Your blood is black, no?” Soviet leaned forward to get a better look at Mother Russia’s face. The white of her hair and forehead was stark against the night, and the blue stripe across her eyes made the shamrock green of her eyes ever brighter. “Your bones are diamond. So… separation is inevitable. Why would we be here if not to rule?”

“There’s your dad, again,” a sigh left her chest, and the bags under her eyes seemed to deepen. “We don’t have to be the same physically to be equals. All of us are sentient. We all speak the same language. You and I just… happened to crawl out of the dirt instead of our mothers’ wombs. Besides, if we were born to rule, why are you and I here? There’s no more land left for either of us. And I doubt your father has plans of dying any time soon, so you aren’t an heir to anything. You’re the Prince in the Papers, and I’m the Rumor of the Streets. Hardly seems to be a reason for us to exist.”

Soviet pursed his lips. She had a point. The Romanovs had a reason to have children. They would die eventually. Russian Empire had no reason to have children. He wasn’t going to die unless the Empire collapsed, which was unlikely. So, why was Soviet born? Unlike his father, who came into power as the Romanovs did, Soviet had no reason to believe the Romanov line would end. The earth had no reason to thrust his existence into the world. Empires were strong as ever, only France and America seemed to be blips on the radar. And even then, France was locked in an inner turmoil, and America seemed perfectly happy on his own side of the world.

What was there now? What could be left for him if the world had settled? “Why would the earth create us if there was no reason?” his voice came out quieter than intended. It almost broke. “Humans exist to perpetuate their species, to continue to learn and discover. But us? Me? If there’s no reason… why exist?”

A small smile seemed to creep back onto Mother Russia’s soft lips. “I think there is a reason to be here. Not necessarily to be a Prince. Or, in my case, a barmaid. But… think. Maybe a year before you, I was born in the streets of St. Petersburg, in the middle of a civil protest. And you? A year later, you were born in your pops’ peony garden. Destroying something he’d carefully crafted over… however long it takes for peonies to grow. Those things represent passion. You’re red, like passion, too. Maybe it’s fate we met.”

“Fate?”

“I mean, think about it. You know how hard it is to hide. Every non-noble in St. Petersburg knows of me, but no one would sell me out for a… er… measly ten-thousand-ruble fortune, as you put it. But you found the one guy who would. And managed to get your pretty, manicured little ass through the one part that probably would not hesitate to sell you for ransom if they didn’t kill you. All the way to me. Maybe it’s time for a change.”

“You think my ass is pretty?”

Mother Russia snorted and shoved Soviet. Her laugh was loud, full of such a palpable joy that even Soviet couldn’t help himself from joining in. They laughed for a good, long while. Long enough that Soviet’s stomach ached, and his lungs burned. But seeing the joy on her face dulled any pain he felt.

He leaned back, resting his spine on the roof of the Rumbling Stone. The sky was clear. Pitch-black, with stars and constellations dotting it like little holes in fabric. He never wanted this moment to end.

“… Soviet,” Mother Russia’s breath plumed into his view. “That’s just sovet, but with an extra ‘i’. So, your dad just named you council?”

“He said it was because no one would refuse to give council to someone named it. I think he just didn’t want to bother coming up with a name that wasn’t ‘Russian Empire II’,” a dull laugh left Soviet’s chest. “But on the topic of names… Mother Russia. Seems a little weird to name a baby Mother anything.”

“My parents named me after the Motherland, so they named me Mother Russia,” she explained. “They said it’s because they wanted me to be a paragon for the people, more than you or your father. To them, and, well, to everyone, you two represent the Romanovs more than you represent Russia.”

“A lot to put on a baby.”

“Maybe, but at least my name isn’t Council.”

Soviet rolled his eyes, chuckling.

As the moon slowly slid into view, the time became apparent. This excursion had lasted way longer than he intended it to. He suddenly sat up straight, brushing the dirt and grime from his clothes. “Shit—father’s going to kill me. I need to go…” Soviet scrambled to his feet and looked down to Mother Russia. He held out a hand. “Will I… see you again? Or are you keeping to your earlier promise?”

She seemed to think for a moment, moonlight sparkling in the perfect pools of green. Her hand grabbed his, her grip stronger than he thought it would be, and she pulled herself to her feet. “If you keep your promise of not telling the High Tsar or whatever he calls himself, now, then perhaps I’ll stick around for a while longer,” her eyes gleamed, and Soviet’s heart rate picked up.

“Father’s probably going to make his guards follow me for a week so… see you again in a week?” he couldn’t stop the stupid grin tugging at his cheeks.

“See you in a week, Council.”

[yoomiwrites]

Sweet Innocence

Summary: Princess Y/N’s kingdom is falling apart, and her family’s only hope is her marriage to a cruel, old king. Desperate, she makes a reckless choice one night—and wakes up in Niji Vinsmoke’s bed. Now, caught between a dangerous engagement and Niji’s growing interest, Y/N must navigate a deadly game of survival where one wrong move could cost her everything.

Note: A new story? Yes, sorry. But I had the idea while playing Bounty Rush and had to write it. Bare with me. ;-; Already wrote 3 chapters of this one, but it will get slow updates. Also trying to make the read-flow better with some bold Highlights. Long chapters! I used Google as help for fancy names, hit me up if you know where they're from.

Third-person pov. Female Reader. Sensitive topics. Hard language. Slight Gore. Slow Updates. Enemies to lovers. Sex mentioned. Forced marriage. Death mentioned.

The Kingdom of Velderis had always been a jewel among the southern realms—a land of rich history, golden coastlines, and a proud naval fleet that commanded both respect and fear across the seas. Nestled between towering, mist-kissed cliffs and sprawling fields of wildflowers, the kingdom’s capital, Eldoria, stood as a monument to centuries of wealth and power. At sunrise, the city’s marble domes and copper spires gleamed like fire against the sky, and the scent of salt and citrus drifted through its cobbled streets.

For generations, Velderis had thrived under the rule of King Eldric and Queen Selene, their governance blessed with prosperity and an unshakable alliance with the great naval forces of the region. The people of Velderis lived well; merchants boasted of the finest silks and spices from distant lands, and the harbors were always bustling with trade ships. Knights patrolled the city with pride, and even the poorest citizens rarely went hungry. It was a kingdom built on strength and diplomacy, and for years, it had seemed untouchable.

But gold does not last forever.

Princess Y/N had spent most of her childhood blissfully unaware of the slow decay creeping through her family’s empire. She had lived as any princess should—dancing barefoot through the palace gardens, racing horses along the sea cliffs, and sneaking away from her lessons whenever the opportunity arose. The world had felt endless in those days, filled with color and warmth, and she had never once thought to question the security of her home.

She and her sister, Hitomi, had been raised in privilege but not in cruelty. Their parents were not the kind to lock them away in gilded cages or deny them the joys of youth. Queen Selene, ever graceful and wise, had taught them kindness before etiquette, while King Eldric, though impulsive at times, was a man who adored his daughters fiercely. His booming laughter could shake the very halls of the palace, and when he wasn’t tangled in matters of state, he was lifting them onto his shoulders or telling them stories of battles fought and won.

Yet even the strongest of men cannot stop the tide of time.

Y/N had first begun to notice the shift in the kingdom’s fortune when the feasts grew smaller. At first, it was subtle—certain dishes missing from the banquet tables, a quiet decrease in the servants attending them. The once-lavish festivals of Eldoria became less extravagant, and the royal family made fewer appearances outside the castle walls.

Then came the rumors.

She would hear them whispered among the maids as they folded linens, spoken in hushed tones by the palace guards when they thought no one was listening. The kingdom was in debt. The once-mighty fleet of Velderis had weakened, unable to keep up with the growing military power of rival nations. Trade agreements were failing. Coin was slipping through the cracks faster than it could be replenished.

By the time Y/N was sixteen, she could no longer ignore it. She had seen her mother’s quiet worry, the way her father’s temper had grown shorter. She had watched Hitomi’s perfect composure falter when their parents sat them down and explained the truth—Velderis was on the verge of collapse. Their noble status meant nothing without wealth, and if they did not act soon, their family’s legacy would crumble into dust.

And so, a decision was made.

Hitomi, the elder daughter, the beauty of the family, was to be wed to a prince of GERMA—a powerful and militaristic empire whose name alone struck both admiration and fear across the seas. It was an advantageous match, a way to secure an alliance that could restore Velderis’ strength. The engagement was arranged swiftly, and while Hitomi had not protested, Y/N had seen the sharp glint of resentment in her sister’s usually calm eyes.

But Y/N’s fate was far worse.

Her marriage was not to be a political alliance of status, nor a romantic tale of duty and love. No, her betrothal had been arranged to a widowed king, a man of great wealth and military strength but of no charm, no youth, and no kindness. He was known across the region for his cold nature and calculating mind, a man who had already buried two wives and sought a new, young bride to bear him heirs.

The worst part? It was not her beauty that had sealed the deal.

No one compared her to Hitomi, whose face was a thing of delicate, sculpted perfection. Y/N was neither as poised nor as graceful; her hands were calloused from climbing trees and handling horses, her laughter too loud for the refinement expected of a princess.

But that was exactly why she had been chosen. Because she was innocent.

Because her father, desperate to secure Velderis' survival, had gambled with her very life.

And he had lost.

One week after her twenty-first birthday, Y/N arrived at GERMA, a floating fortress that defied the very laws of nature.

It was not a kingdom in the traditional sense—no lush valleys, no grand palaces carved into the hillsides, no gentle rivers winding through quaint villages. GERMA was a nation built atop warships, a fleet so massive it could swallow entire naval forces whole. It moved across the sea like a living thing, an ever-shifting empire of steel and thunder, where politics were decided by power, and alliances were sealed in blood.

The royal vessel from Velderis docked at one of GERMA’s sprawling platforms, an expanse of blackened metal and towering, gold-plated buildings that shimmered beneath the midday sun. It was eerily quiet, save for the low hum of machinery and the rhythmic crash of waves against the hull. There were no bustling markets, no street performers filling the air with song—only the constant movement of soldiers in crisp uniforms, their faces unreadable beneath their helmets.

For the first time in a long time, Y/N felt small.

She had traveled before, seen neighboring kingdoms with their own unique beauty, but GERMA was something else entirely. It was a war machine, a kingdom of conquest, and its people lived under a different set of rules—ones dictated by strength, not diplomacy.

It was also where her sister’s fate would be sealed.

The entire reason for their visit was to finalize Hitomi’s engagement. Their father, ever the tactician, had insisted on traveling with them to ensure that the arrangements were to his liking. Their mother had gone to serve as a mediator, while Hitomi… well, Hitomi had no choice but to follow.

Y/N had been invited to the political gathering as well—her presence was expected, after all—but she had refused.

Not openly, of course. She hadn’t thrown a fit or dramatically stormed away. She had simply declined in the same quiet way she always did when something made her uncomfortable. "I’ll just get in the way," she had said, offering a small smile, though no one believed that was the reason.

Her father had sighed but hadn't pushed. Her mother had given her a knowing look but had said nothing. And Hitomi—perfect, elegant Hitomi—had simply nodded as if she understood.

So while her family disappeared into the depths of GERMA’s grand warship, where political discussions and marital negotiations were being handled behind closed doors, Y/N stayed behind.

And she fed the seagulls.

She sat on the edge of the docking platform, legs swinging over the side as she absentmindedly tossed bits of stale bread to the hungry birds. The seagulls were fearless here, darting dangerously close, their sharp beaks snapping at the crumbs before they could hit the water.

The sea was calmer than she had expected—an endless stretch of deep blue, reflecting the golden light of the late afternoon. From this vantage point, she could see the rest of GERMA's fleet scattered across the horizon, each massive warship interconnected by thick metal. It was a floating empire unlike any other, but Y/N found no beauty in it. It was cold, unyielding, built for battle rather than for life.

She sighed, tearing off another piece of bread and flicking it toward the birds.

She was delaying the inevitable.

Once Hitomi’s engagement was settled, her family would return to Velderis, and she would not be going with them. Instead, she would be sent to another kingdom, one far less impressive than GERMA but no less powerful. A kingdom where her future husband was waiting.

She still hadn't said his name out loud.

A chill ran through her despite the warmth of the sun. The very thought of him, a man she had never met, made her stomach twist. She knew only the whispers—the rumors of his ruthlessness, the cold efficiency with which he had ruled. He was rich beyond reason, his army unmatched, his kingdom fortified and untouchable. But that wealth and power had come at a cost, and it was said that the women he married did not live long enough to enjoy it.

Her fingers tightened around the last piece of bread.

She could still run.

It was a foolish thought, a childish fantasy, but it lingered in the back of her mind all the same. She had never been a coward, but this was different. This was her life being sold away like some political bargaining chip, her freedom exchanged for a kingdom’s survival.

But if she ran, Velderis would fall.

Her father had been clear—without her marriage, their kingdom would collapse under the weight of its debt. Their enemies would seize the opportunity to strike, their allies would turn their backs, and soon, Velderis would be nothing more than a fading memory in history books.

And so, she would marry him.

Not because she wanted to.

But because she had no choice.

She exhaled slowly, finally throwing the last piece of bread into the sea. The seagulls fought over it, screeching and snapping, and she watched them without really seeing them. Her fate was sealed. There was no escape.

But still…

A voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Hmmmm..?”

Y/N blinked, turning her head sharply. She hadn’t heard anyone approach, but now, standing just a few feet away, was a man she instantly recognized—Niji Vinsmoke.

His posture was almost lazily arrogant, hands in his pockets, head tilted slightly as he studied her with an expression caught somewhere between boredom and mild curiosity.

Y/N swallowed, suddenly aware of how alone they were. She wasn’t sure if he had been sent to fetch her, or if he had stumbled upon her by accident, but she had a sinking feeling that it didn’t matter.

Because unlike her, Niji Vinsmoke was not trapped.

He was free.

And for the first time in a long time, Y/N felt something dangerously close to jealousy.

For a long moment, Y/N said nothing.

She simply stared at Niji, taking in the sharp, effortless confidence in the way he stood, the glint of amusement hidden just beneath the surface of his smirk.

He looked every bit the prince of GERMA—tailored suit, pristine and likely worth more than most people’s yearly income, the dark fabric perfectly fitted to his broad frame. A high-collared cape draped over one shoulder, fastened with gold accents that caught the light. His signature sunglasses rested on the bridge of his nose, hiding his eyes completely. Even so, she could feel him watching her, assessing her with the same cool detachment one might have for a mildly interesting insect.

And yet, despite all of that, despite the unmistakable weight of his presence—she didn’t feel the need to bow.

Instead, she let out a slow breath and looked back at the sea. “You’re not very polite.”

The corners of his mouth twitched, a near-smirk that didn’t quite form. “And you’re not very subtle,” he replied. “But I think we’ve already established that.”

Y/N ignored him, focusing instead on the distant waves, her fingers brushing absentmindedly against the cool metal of the platform beneath her. It was easier than looking at him, easier than acknowledging the fact that she was speaking so freely to someone she probably shouldn’t.

GERMA was dangerous.

Everyone knew that.

Its princes were dangerous—weapons first, men second. Raised for war, hardened by battle, with no need for sentiment or mercy. She had heard the stories, knew what kind of people the Vinsmokes were. And yet, here she was, trading words with one of them like it was the most natural thing in the world.

She should have been afraid.

But instead, she found herself irritated.

He was still standing there, still watching her with that air of detached amusement, as if waiting for her to crack first.

So she turned back to him, arms crossing over her chest. “Shouldn’t you be at the meeting?” she asked, lifting an eyebrow. “Or do Germa princes get to skip out on their royal duties?”

Niji huffed out something that might have been a laugh. “The trial ended ten minutes ago,” he said, slipping one hand into his pocket. “But I’ll be sure to let my father know you’re so concerned about our political affairs.”

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “You don’t need to.”

“Oh?” He tilted his head slightly, as if studying her through the tinted glass of his sunglasses. “And what exactly are you doing out here, then? Feeding the seagulls? Hiding from something?”

Her fingers twitched, but she didn’t react. She wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

Instead, she reached for the last remaining crumbs of bread, tossing it toward the water with deliberate ease. “Not everyone enjoys sitting through hours of royal negotiations,” she said. “Some of us prefer fresh air.”

His smirk widened just a fraction.

“You talk much for a servant.”

She froze for half a second.

Then, slowly, she turned to face him fully. “Excuse me?”

He shrugged, as if the matter was of no real importance. “You’re dressed plain,” he said, gesturing lazily at her attire. “And you’re out here alone, wasting time with birds while everyone else is inside doing something actually productive. Not exactly a princess-like image, is it?”

She clenched her jaw.

Of course. Of course he would make such an assumption.

Unlike Hitomi, she had never cared much for the delicate, embroidered gowns or elaborate hairstyles their station demanded. She preferred practicality—a simple yet elegant tunic, high boots built for movement, and a cloak that shielded her from the ocean breeze. And now, apparently, that was enough for him to assume she was beneath him.

Her pride flared like a spark catching fire.

“I am Princess Y/N of Velderis,” she said coolly, her chin lifting just slightly. “The second daughter of King Eldric and Queen Selene.”

She expected shock, or maybe a hint of embarrassment.

Instead, Niji merely raised an eyebrow, adjusting his sunglasses. “Huh,” he said, as if it was the most unimpressive thing he had ever heard.

She grit her teeth.

“And,” she continued, voice clipped, “what I wear is none of your business.”

That, at least, earned her a short chuckle.

“Well,” Niji said, taking a slow step forward, just enough to lean in slightly, his voice dropping into something mockingly conspiratorial. “If you don’t want people mistaking you for a servant, maybe don’t dress like one.”

She stiffened.

A low, simmering frustration burned in her chest, but she bit her tongue, forcing herself to stay composed. He wanted a reaction—expected one, even. But she wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

Instead, she turned on her heel, stepping away from the platform’s edge.

“I should go,” she muttered under her breath.

“Good idea,” Niji said smoothly, watching her with that same infuriating smirk. “Wouldn’t want your future husband to think you’ve gone missing.”

That made her pause.

Just for a fraction of a second.

He didn’t know who she was engaged to. He was only poking, testing—but the fact that he even mentioned it at all sent a wave of cold realization through her.

She wasn’t free.

Not like him. Not like any of the people walking around this kingdom built on steel and war.

Her fingers curled into fists, but she didn’t turn back. She simply kept walking, her steps quick and purposeful as she made her way back toward the ship where her family was waiting.

Behind her, Niji let out a soft laugh—one that carried just enough amusement to let her know he had won this round.

Y/N didn’t stop walking until she reached the ship.

Her heart was still beating faster than she’d like, her frustration from her exchange with Niji lingering like an unwelcome guest in her chest. She had half a mind to throw something overboard—maybe one of those expensive, gold-plated goblets the GERMA royal family probably drank out of, just to watch it sink into the abyss.

But that wouldn’t change anything.

Her fate was sealed, and no amount of frustration could undo the chains her family had wrapped around her wrists.

She stepped onto the deck of their royal ship, brushing past a few familiar guards who offered quick bows as she made her way to the cabins. She needed to see Hitomi. Needed to know how things had gone, what decisions had been made behind closed doors, how much longer she would have her sister by her side before they were both married off to men they barely knew.

She found Hitomi in her cabin, seated by the large, ornately carved vanity table near the window. The room was filled with the soft golden glow of the evening sun, casting a warm light over the space, but Y/N felt no comfort in it.

Hitomi glanced up as she entered. “Oh, you’re back,” she noted, voice light.

Y/N wasted no time. “Well?” she demanded, shutting the door behind her. “What happened? What was decided?”

Hitomi let out a small hum, tilting her head slightly as she picked up a silver hairbrush, running it through the long, sleek strands of her dark hair. She looked... calm. Even pleased.

Y/N narrowed her eyes.

“Well,” Hitomi said at last, “the wedding is scheduled for two weeks from now.”

Y/N’s stomach dropped slightly. Two weeks. That was fast.

Too fast.

“But,” Hitomi continued, “it seems they haven’t decided who I should marry yet.”

Y/N frowned, stepping further into the room. “What do you mean?”

Hitomi set her brush down, turning in her chair to face her fully. “Father and Mr. Vinsmoke couldn’t come to an agreement,” she said, a faint, knowing smile curving her lips. “Father wants me to marry Ichiji, but Mr. Vinsmoke isn’t ready to give up his eldest son so easily. They’re still… negotiating.”

Y/N stared at her. “And you’re fine with that?”

Hitomi shrugged one delicate shoulder. “I suppose,” she said airily. “I’ll be married to one of them regardless.”

Y/N clenched her jaw. “And you’re okay with that?”

That earned her a small, amused glance. “They’re more attractive than I expected,” Hitomi admitted, leaning back against her seat. “I don’t suppose it really matters which one I end up with, as long as he’s not a bore.”

Y/N’s hands curled into fists. How? How could she be so calm about this? How could she act as though she were picking out a new gown instead of a husband?

“This is a marriage, Hitomi,” she said sharply. “Not some game.”

Hitomi’s faint smile faltered for the first time.

For a brief second, something flickered in her dark eyes—something that looked almost like sadness. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced once more with that same calm, unreadable expression.

“It is a game, Y/N,” she said softly. “We just don’t get to make the rules.”

Y/N swallowed hard.

She hated that answer.

She hated that it was true.

Hitomi sighed, shifting slightly in her seat, her gaze drifting toward the open window. The sea stretched endlessly before them, shimmering in the fading sunlight. “But we’re not here to talk about me, are we?” she mused. “I suppose you’d rather talk about your upcoming wedding, hm?”

Y/N went rigid.

Hitomi tilted her head slightly, her voice turning almost too casual. “To King Zeang of Malvera.”

Y/N’s stomach twisted at the sound of his name.

Zeang.

Y/N turned away, gripping the back of a nearby chair. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

But Hitomi only studied her, expression thoughtful. “You should,” she said. “You should talk about it.”

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut. “There’s nothing to talk about,” she muttered. “The decision has been made.”

Hitomi’s voice turned quiet. “You don’t have to go through with it.”

Y/N let out a bitter laugh, turning back to her. “And what do you suggest?” she asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. “That I run away and doom our kingdom to collapse?”

Hitomi’s gaze was steady. “No,” she said. “I’m suggesting that maybe, just maybe, we could find someone else to marry instead.”

Y/N frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Hitomi exhaled slowly, rising to her feet. She walked over to the window, fingers resting lightly against the frame as she stared out at the vast expanse of the ocean.

“You know,” she said after a moment, “Zeang never kept his previous wives for long.”

Y/N stiffened. “I’m aware.”

Hitomi’s fingers curled slightly. “And do you know what they all had in common?”

Silence.

Y/N’s heart thumped loudly in her chest.

Hitomi turned to her, eyes dark and serious. “They were all innocent.”

A heavy, suffocating silence filled the space between them.

Y/N’s breath caught.

Hitomi watched her closely, as if waiting for something to click.

And then, softly—almost gently—she repeated it.

“If you weren’t innocent, he wouldn’t marry you either.”

Y/N’s hands went cold.

She stared at her sister, trying to understand exactly what she was implying, exactly what she was suggesting. But her mind was moving too fast, emotions crashing into each other like waves in a storm.

“That’s—” she began, but she didn’t even know what she was trying to say.

Hitomi sighed, stepping closer, placing a delicate hand on her shoulder. “Think about it,” she said, voice softer now. “Our kingdom needs this marriage, yes. But if you were… disqualified, they’d simply have to find someone else, wouldn’t they?”

Y/N swallowed hard.

Her mind reeled.

She had spent so long believing that she had no choice, that she was trapped in a fate she couldn’t escape. But now, for the first time, there was something else.

Something dangerous.

Something…possible.

Hitomi gave her shoulder a light squeeze before stepping back. “Just something to consider,” she murmured.

And with that, she returned to her seat, picking up her brush once more as if the conversation had never happened.

But Y/N?

Y/N stood frozen, her world suddenly spinning in an entirely new direction.

The party was louder than expected.

Y/N had thought it would be a simple gathering, something dignified and restrained, given that it was meant to honor the unity of two powerful nations. But of course, this was GERMA 66—a kingdom that was anything but dignified.

It was a riot of noise and movement, filled with the clatter of gold-rimmed goblets, the occasional sound of shattering glass, and the boisterous laughter of men who lived without fear. The scent of roasting meat, sweat, and expensive liquor thickened the air, and all around her, nobles and warriors alike indulged with reckless abandon.

Her father was at the center of it all, already deep into his cups, his booming laughter rising above the din as he slapped Judge on the back like they were old friends instead of two kings negotiating their children’s futures.

Y/N barely acknowledged any of it.

Her hands were tight fists at her sides, her breath short and uneven as she stood near one of the long banquet tables, staring blankly at the bottles of alcohol lined up before her.

She had spent the entire evening thinking.

Thinking about Hitomi’s words.

"If you weren’t innocent, he wouldn’t marry you either."

The sentence had lodged itself deep in her mind, replaying over and over like a cruel taunt.

It was simple. Blatantly simple.

A way out.

She had never been particularly sentimental about her purity. It wasn’t something she clung to with any great sense of importance. But now—now it had become a bargaining chip.

A key to her own freedom.

Her throat felt tight, her palms slightly damp as she finally reached forward, her fingers brushing over the bottles. Her gaze scanned the labels, searching for the one with the highest proof.

She wasn’t foolish.

She knew herself well enough to understand that she wouldn’t have the courage to go through with it if she were sober.

So she wouldn’t be.

The bottle she selected was strong—stronger than anything she had ever dared to drink before.

She poured herself a glass. Downed it in one go.

It burned.

A hot, fiery path down her throat, sharp enough to bring tears to her eyes.

She coughed, her body immediately rejecting the intensity, but she forced herself to keep going.

Another glass.

Then another.

The world around her began to blur at the edges, the sounds of laughter and clinking goblets dulling into an indistinct hum.

She could feel it now—the warmth spreading through her limbs, the soft fuzziness settling into her brain, numbing everything it touched.

Good.

This was what she needed.

She stumbled away from the table, barely aware of her surroundings anymore. Her vision was unfocused, her thoughts hazy, but she had one goal in mind.

A man.

Any man.

Someone to make sure she could never be married off to Zeang.

Her steps were unsteady as she wove through the crowd, her body light, her mind floating somewhere between awareness and unconsciousness.

Then—she bumped into someone.

A firm, solid figure.

Strong.

Warm.

The scent of something clean and expensive filled her senses—subtle cologne mixed with the lingering sharpness of the sea and sweat.

She barely looked up.

Didn’t care who it was.

Instead, she stood on her tiptoes, swaying slightly, and pressed her lips against his.

The touch was brief, barely more than a soft press of warmth, before darkness swallowed her whole.

...

Y/N awoke to noise.

Loud. Jarring.

The clash of metal against metal, the distant sounds of shouted orders, the rhythmic pounding of boots against the floorboards.

For a brief moment, she didn’t register anything at all.

Her mind was still wrapped in a thick, alcohol-induced haze, her body heavy and warm, nestled against something soft and unfamiliar.

She blinked groggily, her lashes fluttering as she stretched—

Only to feel cool air against her bare skin.

Her bare skin.

A strange, creeping feeling crawled up her spine.

Slowly, she sat up, the sheets sliding down her body. The moment she saw herself, the moment she saw the way her naked form was tangled in silk covers, her heart stopped cold.

She felt her breath hitch, her fingers clutching the sheets tightly, dragging them up to her chest as panic rose like bile in her throat.

This…

This wasn’t her bed.

Her pulse pounded in her ears as she darted her gaze around the room.

The space was larger than hers, the walls lined with neatly arranged weapons, the faint scent of steel and cologne lingering in the air.

This wasn’t her cabin.

This wasn’t even her ship.

Her mind raced, piecing together what had happened.

The party.

The drinking.

The kiss.

Then—blackness.

Her stomach twisted violently.

Who?

How?

Her thoughts were still sluggish, her memory a hazy void, but before she could dwell on it any further, the door creaked open.

Footsteps.

She snapped her head up, her grip on the sheets tightening like a vice.

And then—

Her entire body went still.

Niji Vinsmoke stood in the doorway.

Still in his training gear, a towel draped lazily over his shoulders. His blue hair was slightly damp, strands falling across his forehead in a way that should have looked casual, but instead sent a sharp, sinking dread straight into her gut.

He took one look at her.

And grinned.

A slow, amused smirk that curled at the edges, sharp and mocking, as his gaze flickered down to where she sat clutching the sheets to her chest.

Y/N felt her face drain of all color.

Oh.

Oh no.

Niji clicked his tongue, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe.

“Well,” he drawled, his voice thick with amusement. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Princess.”

[adoremattsturns]

Creep - M.S.

summary: loser!matt thinks academicweapon!reader is too good for him but she tells him otherwise.

tw: slightly crying, fluff, words of praise.

not proofread!!

6:45 pm

matts day has been overall terrible. he woke up with a headache, nick and chris kept annoying him, his anxiety has been high and he was constantly overthinking.

you, were preparing for finals, taking notes, and also tutoring other students the entire day. matt had been on your mind for parts of it but you assumed he was fine since he hadn’t messaged or called.

you were now in your dorm that you thankfully don’t have to share with anyone. you received missed calls and messages from matt.

Missed Call: Matt 🤓

Missed Call: Matt 🤓

4) Message: Matt 🤓

Matt: hi 🙂

Matt: can you come over?

Matt: helloooooooo

Matt: did i do something? im sorry.

you read all this messages, he over-thank a lot. you replied back

You: hiiiii

You: sorry i was busy the whooole day. i can come over yeah. is everything okay?

he left you on read but you didn’t mind since it was a habit he had. you drove to his house and parked in the driveway, knocking on the door.

when matt opened it he looked tired. bags under his eyes, messy hair, and unshaved face. just how you liked him, looks wise.

he smiled at you when you walked in before feeling a sort of dread in his stomach. what was a girl like you doing with a weirdo like him?

you could see it in his face that something was wrong but didn’t question it for now. he brought you to his room.

“i- i missed you” he said which made you smile. “i missed you too. any reason you invited me over besides that?” “nope.” he lied, he wanted to tell you how he felt but he was too scared to say.

you walked into the room, dark with the only light source being his computer screen and a rootbeer can next to his keyboard

you both laid in his bed just cuddling. your head in the crook of his neck, he seemed stiff. “you wanna talk about it?” you mumbled kissing his jaw.

“i don’t- i just don’t know” he sighed, looking at you with glassy eyes “you’re just…. you shouldn’t be with me”

what.

you would have NEVER thought those words would come out of matts mouth. you loved him so much how could he say that??

“matt what- why?!” you elevated your voice “you- you’re breaking up with me?” you said lower. “no. im just saying that you shouldn’t be with me. you’re too good.”

good. a word that has been thrown around since you’ve met. “matt. you are a great kid, if anything you’re too good for me! you treat me right, care for me, and love me just as much as i love you.” matt didn’t reply.

lost in thought, he stared at you. taking in what you said and how you said it. “really?” he mumbled, staring at your face. “yes really matt! i love you so much and i don’t know what i would ever do without you.” you said softly as matt went and gave you a hug, his tears dampening your shirt.

“i love you- so much. too much” he breathed, trying to keep his voice calm since he was crying. “i love you more.” you kissed his cheek. his cheeks changed into a soft pink, nice color that went with his skin tone.

over the course of a few days you and matt have been working together on expressing each other’s feelings with one another. you obviously being a psychology major, were able to teach and lead matt on how he could really improve.

you both sat at the dinner table in your dorm, talking about school, work, etc. “y’know, i am really grateful that you are my girlfriend. i’m not sure what i would do without you.” he chuckled, taking another bite of his meal.

“im very grateful for you too matt. you really help me be an actual interesting person.” “are you kidding? you’ve always been interesting! its why i fell in love with you.” you chuckled and shook your head “yeah, if interesting is rather doing homework than going to a party sure. then i am very interesting.”

“yeah because that is whats interesting about you. the coolest thing about you.” he said sarcastically.

after dinner you both laid in bed, giggling and staring at each other like you were at a sleepover. “i love you matt.” “love you more, sweetheart.”

you both ended up falling asleep, intertwined with each other and the blankets. you knew that no matter what, matt would always be the best choice for you.

hi hi hiii!!! sorry if this is cheeks its been in the drafts for like 2 months now 💔 i hope you enjoy it!!

taglist:

@luvvnai @lezleeferguson-120 @sheluvsthesturniolos

[hervygervy]

Also since I'm the resident pyrrhon autist I'm curious how his japanese dialogue handles humility with his arrogant personality and all. Particularly I've often wondered if the way he uses those terms switches or not at that bit around the beginning of his bossfight when he's briefly himself and trying to fight them back, like if he shows any "cracks" so to speak. I hope specific kinda translation comparison requests like this are okay

Thank you for your request! Let's talk about Pyrrhon :)

His boss fight has a really interesting difference in the Japanese version! I will talk about it at the end of this post because first I would like to talk about Pyrrhon more generally.

Normally I would like to include English voice files just for the sake of easily accessible comparison, but this website seeks to inhibit me and contain my hyperfixation and I am only able to attach so many voice files. Tragic. So because we have a lot of ground to cover, unfortunately, we'll just be working with Japanese voice files today. I'll try to reference the English version when I can. Once again, we'll be here a while, so read below the cutoff!

Some initial notes that might be of interest to you before we really dive in (it's a bunch of language stuff so bear with me!) Pyrrhon's called ラーズ (Raazu, but I'll render it as "Raaz" in my translations) in the Japanese version. I sincerely wish I could tell you what this is derived from but I honest to goodness have no idea. The English name meanwhile is obviously sourced from "pyro" as in fire and even perhaps figures like King Pyhrrus, which is where the phrase "Pyrrhic victory" comes from (a triumph which takes such a toll on the victor that it eventually leads to defeat).

In the Japanese version he consistently uses informal speech and masculine sentence ending particles. We don't have particles in English so it's difficult to explain, but the best way I can describe it is the way he ends his sentences give off a strong and gruff masculine vibe.

Despite this very apparent manner of speech, he uses 私 (watashi) to refer to himself. I point this out because unlike in English, there are dozens of first-person pronouns in Japanese and what you use, depending on the context, will say a lot about you as a person. 私 is like the "default" pronoun (as in like that's what you'd be taught to use in a class first thing). It's gender neutral and applicable for both casual and formal situations. I'd say it leans ever so slightly formal. In casual conversations, it sounds a little feminine. If a man is using it in a casual situation, it either sounds awkward, or like the speaker is trying to establish some distance between himself and the listener, thus coming across as a little cold and stiff.

Palutena also uses "watashi," but interestingly, in the game's subtitles, hers is always written out in hiragana like わたし while Pyrrhon's is always written in kanji like 私. It's the exact same word at the end of the day so I guess it's just a stylistic choice?

There are also a bunch of second-person pronouns in Japanese because of course there are. They're rarely used in actual conversation, however. It tends to come across as a bit rude, and using the other person's name instead of "you" is generally preferable. I've only ever really seen it in anime and manga or texts that address the "general you" as it's called. Pyrrhon uses キミ (kimi) to refer to others. The way キミ (or 君 as it's usually written) is perceived tends to vary from person to person it seems, it can either sound affectionate or it can sound like you're a bossy man addressing his subordinates since it's apparently historically associated with the masculine first-person pronoun 僕 (boku). Nowadays 僕 is more of the young boy's pronoun, though. Pit actually uses it.

With that out of the way, you know that Pyrrhon is meant to be a comic book superhero parody of sorts, so naturally, in the Japanese version, he uses a lot of English words/phrases in his speech. Here's the Japanese equivalent of his introduction as an example:

He uses a few English words here. The English script adapts this by instead giving him a lot of silly one-liners that you'd expect to hear in some Saturday morning cartoon. You could probably make the argument that this aspect of his character thus more effectively expressed in the English version. This interaction also plays out a little differently here in the Japanese version. Oh, but I guess I should translate:

Pyrrhon: No problem!

Palutena: Are you... the sun god, Raaz?

Pyrrhon: Yes!

Pit: The sun god, Raaz...?

Viridi: The self-proclaimed "emissary of the sun."

Pyrrhon: So you're all together, huh?

Palutena: Raaz, is there something you know about this enemy army?

Pyrrhon: Listen well! This here! Is the floating continental cluster of the Aurum!

Hades: The Aurum, huh?

Pyrrhon: This bit's important so I'll say it again! This is the floating continental cluster of the Aurum!

Viridi: Geez, that's enough.

Pyrrhon: In the book of Revelation of the Realm of Gods, chapter 84, verse 3: "Lured by destruction and heresy, they are born from nothing and appear to return to nothing. Those that swallow the heavens, earth, and sea--they are the Aurum. They travel across the galaxy!"

Viridi: Is there really such a legend?

Pyrrhon: To put it plainly, you could say the Aurum can swallow up the world at this rate! Let's work together! Come now, shoot these invaders from space!

Pit: Is it really alright to put our trust this guy?

Palutena: Well, his explanation matches the current state of affairs.

Viridi: Well, I suppose it's good to call this enemy army "the Aurum."

Pyrrhon pretty much sticks true to this style of speech throughout the rest of this section of the game. It's over the top and gruff and commanding you could say.

A few notes! Pyrrhon is referred to as a 太陽神 (taiyoushin) which means "sun god" I suppose, but if we break down the meanings for the individual kanji, it's "plump sunshine god" and I personally find that amusing. Okay, what's actually more interesting is Viridi states that he's a "self-proclaimed 太陽の使い" (taiyou no tsukai) or "messenger/envoy of the sun." I went with "emissary" for my translation since that's a common phrase in a lot of mythologies and it carries a similar sentiment. But either way, the use of 使い implies more something along the lines of "servant of the sun" which is curious. Personally I'm wondering if the purpose behind this wording is to draw a parallel to Pit who can be described as a 天の使い (ten no tsukai) or "angel," but I'll return to that thought later.

Another minor note is that Pyrrhon states that the Aurum are "破壊と破戒にいざなわれ" (hakai to hakai ni izanaware) and 破戒 (hakai) means like, breaking a religious commandment, so I went to translate it as "heresy" for simplicity's sake.

When Pyrrhon says "those that swallow the heavens, earth, and sea," he uses the word 者 (mono) to describe them. It means "person" which makes the Aurum sound a lot more humanlike. I still opted to use "those" because it still can be used as a determiner.

Lastly, this is just mildly interesting, instead of "the Book of Divine Prophecy," it's a mess of kanji that I attempted to decode as "the Revelation of the Realm of Gods." It's written as 神界黙示録 (shinkai mokushiroku). The last three kanji in this set, 黙示録 (mokushiroku), is actually the title of the book of Revelation. You know, like from the Bible. Neat, huh?

Since we don't have English voice files, I'll just point out the notable dialogue differences:

In English, Pyrrhon elaborates that the floating islands we encounter in chapter 15 are just one of the many bases the Aurum possess. In the Japanese, he doesn't really comment on this and instead just repeats the fact that we are indeed looking at the Aurum islands. Thanks, buddy.

In English, once Pyrrhon finishes explaining the supposed passage, he tells the others to "stow their fear" and that he'll essentially take care of everything on his own, or at least, that's the implication. In Japanese he immediately suggests everyone work together. Everyone seems a bit more receptive in Japanese whereas they're more hesitant in English, especially with Viridi saying "you know things are dire if that's the guy we're listening to."

Also, sometimes what he says is rendered using Roman letters in the subtitles:

His laughter is always rendered in Roman letters. In the Japanese text below, he says "shoot! Shoot!!" as in English "shoot," not Japanese "shoot" (撃つ/utsu). It's not quite the same as kablooey kablammy, huh...

I'm not quite done with chapter 15 yet. There's one curious dialogue difference at the end of the level. Here's the English line:

And the Japanese:

He says "it seems I won't be bored for a while!" Well, I'm glad he's having fun.

Much like how his comic book superhero persona is hammed up in the English version, I'd say his arrogance and haughtiness is intensified. He does a lot more talking down to the others in the English dialogue. Sure, he does speak informally in the Japanese version, but this is also a video game so, that's par for the course. Anime, manga, and video games don't often reflect how actual spoken Japanese goes. You could say it's like, super exaggerated Japanese. And it can often get pretty crude or informal. What I'm trying to say is, Japanese Pyrrhon's speech doesn't strike me as terribly unusual. He talks like any other brash anime character. None of the other characters seemed too unnerved by him compared to the English version, anyway.

As for chapter 16, Pyrrhon only appears for a brief moment to aggravate the boss. The interactions between the two versions are pretty much the same, so there's not much to talk about, but I will note this!

"You seem to be having trouble, Pit!" ...or "Pit-kun" in this case.

Most of the time he addresses Pit as "kun." This is a masculine honorific, usually used by men addressing their male subordinates or used to refer to good male friends (it's not wrong to use it for women, but the typical usage is for men). In English he says "looks like you could use a hand, little angel" which to me sounds kinda condescending but I'm sure the intention was to sound kinda affectionate in the "hey, we're buddies, right?" kinda way that the Japanese seems to convey. Or maybe I'm totally wrong and the English writers did want to make him sound more condescending.

In a previous post, I talked a little bit about how talking about giving things in Japanese is complicated. In particular, Viridi was using やる (yaru) when asking Palutena if she was giving Pit any kind of allowance (the Japanese equivalent of the "floor ice cream" bit). やる is used when talking about giving things to something of lower status, but in the context that the receiver is literally like a plant or an animal. Pyrrhon seems to have a little bit more respect than her!

"I shall lend you a hand!" Or "I shall assist you!" However you want to word it. Here he's using あげよう (ageyou) which the volitional conjugation of あげる (ageru). あげる is used when talking about giving something to someone of equal or lower status, but not in the animal or plant type of lower status. Hopefully that makes sense. Considering that he addresses Pit as "kun" and not in the sarcastic way like Hades does, I'm going to presume that Japanese Pyrrhon sees him on a relatively equal enough playing field. That's the impression I get anyway.

Alright! That was! A whole lot of yapping! And there is more to come because because we are so close to the moment you've been waiting for! We shall talk about chapter 17!! And then the boss fight!!!

When Pyrrhon and Pit encounter the Aurum brain, in the English version, Pyrrhon's lines are delivered in a pretty nonchalant fashion. In Japanese he maintains his energy and pep. Take a listen:

In English he says something like "do your thing, Pit! You know, your... shooting thing." Anyway, a translation for the voice clip!

Pit: This is... the Aurum brain?

Pyrrhon: Shoot at it, Pit! Shoot at it until your sacred treasure burns up!

No more "kun," huh? He's probably too fixated on that brain, anyway.

Oh, uh, any instance of 神器 (jingi) or "sacred treasure" in the Japanese version is replaced with "weapon" in the English version. I wonder if such phrasing is for the sake of keeping in line with franchise terminology, or perhaps directly referencing "weapons" would have run the team into trouble with the ratings board, CERO. If you care, the game has a CERO B rating in Japan, which means it's suitable for ages 12 and up. It's pretty much the equivalent of the ESRB E10+ rating, which is what the game got in the states. Supposedly, the beheading of the Hewdraw is what cemented the game's rating as B in Japan.

That's not relevant. Let's move onto when Pyrrhon assumes control over the Aurum troops!

Level Infinity Epic Super God Plus!! ...nah he didn't say that. It went something like this:

Pit: I-I'm saved! And Raaz?

Pyrrhon: Hahahahaha... HAHAHAHAHAHA!! Well done, Pit!

Pit: Raaz?!

Pyrrhon: Thanks to you, I've become this magnificent! I'm invincible! I'm invincible! I'm invincible! I'm invincible! I've obtained the strongest power!

Pit: What do you mean?

Pyrrhon: This is what I mean...!

"Kun" has returned! Anyway, I pointed out the one line change already.

How irritating that it's split up into two voice files. Continuing the conversation:

I shall continue the translation:

Pit: No way... Raaz?!

Pyrrhon: HAHAHAHAHAHA! The Aurum are now my hands and feet! The Aurum will embark reborn! I'll give you all a show!

Hades: Ho ho! This guy's interesting! What a discovery!

Viridi: I don't think this is a situation to be glad about.

Pit: Raaz, you rat! Tricking an angel! That's not okay!

Pyrrhon: With this vast power, I will challenge the gods!

A few notes: Pyrrhon uses やる (yaru) for "give" here! He's really on his high horse now.

Pit says "ラーズめ" and tacking め onto anything makes it derogatory. People can translate it in a number of ways, like "you scum" or "damn you" or "bastard" or what have you (I'm really not fond of swearing so I hope my friends don't read this and make a big deal about it). Pit's kinda talking in a childish way here so I opted for "rat," especially since that's what's used in the English version, haha. He uses いけない (ikenai) which is something one would use when describing something like socially unacceptable. Basically he's saying "you're not allowed to trick me!"

Lastly, when Pyrrhon says "challenge," he's using 挑戦 (chousen) which carries the implication of a defiant attitude. I felt that was important to mention!

The differences between the English and Japanese here are pretty minor. Pyrrhon emphasizes his newfound power a lot more in the English version, I'd say, with his whole "not even the combined power of the gods can stop me" bit. He also seems a bit more overtly haughty? (seems a bit more subtle in Japanese to me anyway). He blatantly brushes off Pit in English ("What?! I can't hear you over all this awesome!") but just kinda continues his spiel in Japanese.

We all know that Pyrrhon shows off his quirky new powers by blocking Palutena's extraction (or "jamming" it as he says in Japanese) and we're forced to fight on some dinky platforms. Thankfully we have dialogue to ease the pain. We always do, I guess. Such is the way of radio-style storying telling as it's called in gaming. One interaction always stood out to me. In English it goes like this:

Hades: Our little sun buddy must have a thing for you, Pit.

Viridi: Of course he does. Pit's the only one that loon considers an equal.

We can infer a lot from this... Pit and Pyrrhon are comparable in the sense that neither of them are really taken all that seriously by the gods. For Pit, we can easily see this by the way quite literally any other character treats him. Other characters are baffled to see that he can put up a fight or they simply don't want to admit that he's a genuine one man army. Palutena is probably the only character that will give him any credit, but even then, she isn't beyond toying with him or speaking for him. But I already addressed all that in a post replying to a comment.

Pyrrhon is also disregarded immediately, both in English and Japanese. His status as a god is always called into question (we the player never learn his true place in the divine hierarchy), other characters are quick to doubt him, and well, everyone only ends up following along with him because what other choice is there?

You get the point. Pyrrhon seeks the Aurum's power in order to finally get on the gods' level. To finally be taken seriously. That kind of thing. I was really surprised to learn that the interaction plays out a little differently in Japanese:

It goes something like this:

Pit: Alright! We made it out of the giant battleship!

Palutena: Enemies are approaching from all directions! Watch your surroundings well!

Hades: Did Sunny fall in love? You're very popular, eh?

Viridi: Of course he is. Because right now, as it stands, the only one who can oppose Aurum Raaz is Pit.

Quick note: Hades calls Pyrrhon "太陽ちゃん" (taiyou-chan) and ちゃん is an affectionate honorific, one you'd use for close friends or pets. Obviously he's using it sarcastically here. I employed some creative translation. The actual English script writers had to do the same thing, you know.

But yeah, I can't say the Japanese dialogue leaves as much room for character analysis, huh? It's more or less stating the obvious. The Underworld army isn't really participating here, and Viridi was unable to inhibit Pyrrhon with her last reset bomb. So yeah, Pit really is the only one left that can actually challenge Pyrrhon.

Well, I can go back to that point I brought up earlier. Pyrrhon was called the 太陽の使い or "messenger of the sun," and you can draw that kind of parallel to 天の使い or "heavenly messenger," or more simply, "angel." On that basis, I'd say perhaps you can draw a connection between the two. Maybe they were always meant to be compared in both versions. Or maybe I'm looking too deep into it.

Before we get to the boss fight, I just wish to point out that in the Japanese version, a standard centurion gets some speaking lines, whereas the English version only has a strongarm talking:

I guess I'll translate: "Captain! We came because we wanted to be useful to Lady Palutena."

Okay okay okay boss fight time!! In English, Pyrrhon starts talking in a robotic voice. In Japanese, it's a strained voice. Take a listen:

Translation as usual!

Palutena: Raaz is just up ahead!

Pyrrhon: Stooooop... turn baaaaaack...

Pit: Is Raaz like, acting completely strange or what?

Palutena: Perhaps it's because of the overflowing exaltation?

Oh, and the portraits are different! In English we immediately get a glimpse of Aurum Pyrrhon:

In Japanese, he's still using one of his standard portraits:

...the laughing one to be precise. Okay. But his speech is now rendered in katakana. To reiterate from a previous post, Japanese uses three writing systems all at once. Katakana, this angular text you see here, is mainly used to render foreign words into the Japanese sound system, but it can also be used for stylization purposes and whatnot. Here it's clearly meant to indicate that his words aren't fully his own...

After a loading screen we get to fight him! The boss intro in English has Pyrrhon spew out this binary code:

Supposedly it spells "kill" in ASCII binary. In Japanese it's a lot more "normal":

Pyrrhon: You've come... Pit...

Pit: Raaz! What in the world?!

He's still straining like before the loading screen. But where things get interesting is as he continues to try to talk:

Whoa! Pyrrhon! I can't hear you all over that TV static!

Yeah, so in order to understand what he's saying at all, you actually have to read the text. Cool, because that's what I've been doing anyway. My audio processing abilities are atrocious, after all. That and it's easier to look up words I don't know (which is a lot of them) in my dictionary when I can actually see what words they're using. So let's translate:

Pit: Raaz! Are you really controlling the Aurum? Or, are you being controlled by the Aurum?!

Pyrrhon: I... >cannot be controlled.

The top image is the text pertaining to Pyrrhon struggling to say "I" and the bottom image depicts when the static kicks in with "cannot be controlled" by using an > arrow.

The static speech is rendered in katakana. Alien speech is typically written that way in Japanese media to really emphasize their foreign status.

It's a bit eerie to listen to when it's just the audio, huh? Let's hear a bit more:

Pit: W-what was that?!

Palutena: As expected, you could say he succumbed to the power of the Aurum brain.

Pyrrhon: >Do not inhibit our mission. We will consume all.

Hades: They behave just like insects. Considering their strength, it's fine if they're low-grade, huh?

Palutena: Drawn to the torch of battle, they live only to consume everything. Calling them bees or locusts might not entirely be wrong.

Pyrrhon: >We will multiply. We will continue to increase.

Viridi: But every living thing is like this. Their desperate survival connects to their growth, and they influence each other, enabling for the cycle of life. However, these guys are troubling! Their power is too strong!

Palutena: That and they're an alien species, after all.

Pit: Won't they eat everything at this rate?!

Palutena: That's why you have to put an end to this, Pit!

It's pretty similar to the English. Minus the hungry moths. RIP hungry moths. And I guess in English Aurum Pyrrhon says "we will be all" rather than "we will consume all." Something like that.

Also, when the Aurum (static) speak, they use the pronoun ワレワレ (wareware) which is super old-fashioned and means "we." It supposedly has a strong emphasis on one's own existence. Fitting for the Aurum.

I'll share with ya one last static:

Yay, it's easy for me:

Pit: Return to space!

Pyrrhon: >Uuuoooooo

Eventually the static becomes calming to listen to.

Obviously I didn't hit every Pyrrhon moment, but these are all the notable differences I could find and interesting things I could point out! Aurum Pyrrhon is pretty different between both versions, huh? The whole static thing almost makes it seem all the more dire. To me anyway.

Thank you for bearing with me in this long post. I'll probably do more characterization posts next, so they'll probably be just as long as this one...

[fraudulent-cheese]

Honestly one of my biggest issues with this fandom at large is just... how little it seems to actually want to engage with the later seasons?

So often you'll see people writing off entire seasons as complete garbage with no redeeming qualities (or if there are any, not many) and put the first three seasons on a pedestal, and it doesn't often get questioned.

...Scratch that. Island and World Tour get put on pedestals, Action is often just ignored. At best.

Don't get me wrong, there are alot of people who like the reboot, and they do engage with the reboot seasons! It's not just gen 1 most people care about!

...but there's still alot of people who mostly make art, or fics, or just posts mostly about gen 1, and way less of the other casts. And that's fine! Engage with what you want to engage with, do what you like, ect...

But don't just start saying there's "nothing left to be said" when i'd argue that only applies to a fraction of the characters, and the show. I'd even argue it doesn't apply to all of gen 1!

...Seriously that one take on the takes blog annoyed me so bad. If that statement was true, the fandom would be dead. For fuck's sake, i haven't found a single post on this platform, nor have i heard of any similar post on any other place online that actually dug into Staci's character before my own. Maybe im looking at the wrong places, but if it took this long for one, then im pretty sure we can still say shit about these guys!

At this point i don't even care if you've only heard bad things about Pahkitew Island or even All-Stars. If you have the time, go out and actually watch those seasons! They're available for free on youtube! And if they're not, piracy exists! Make your own mind about things! And if you don't like it, that's totally fine! Not everything's gonna appeal to everyone.

Im just a little tired of people writing off anything that's not called World Tour or Island. Or not being interested in any character that's not part of a very small group they like.