#neither could they - so if they were going to say ���fuck” or become violent

[inkskinned]

one of the things about being an educator is that you hear what parents want their kids to be able to do a lot. they want their kid to be an astronaut or a ballerina or a politician. they want them to get off that damn phone. be better about socializing. stop spending so much time indoors. learn to control their own temper. to just "fucking listen", which means to be obedient.

one of the things i learned in my pedagogy classes is that it's almost always easier to roleplay how you want someone to act. it's almost always easier to explain why a rule exists, rather than simply setting the rule and demanding adherence.

i want my kids to be kind. i want them to ask me what book they should read next, and i want to read that book with them so we can discuss it. i want my kid to be able to tell me hey that hurt my feelings without worrying i'll punish them. i want my kid to be proud of small things and come running up to me to tell me about them. i want them to say "nah, i get why this rule exists, but i get to hate it" and know that i don't need them to be grateful-for-the-roof-overhead while washing the dishes. i want them to teach me things. i want them to say - this isn't safe. i'm calling my mom and getting out of this. i want them to hear me apologize when i do fuck up; and i want them to want to come home.

the other day a parent was telling me she didn't understand why her kid "just got so angry." this woman had flown off the handle at me.

my dad - traditional catholic that he is - resents my sentiment of "gentle parenting". he says they'll grow up spoiled, horrible, pretentious. granola, he spits.

i am going to be kind to them. i am going to set the example, i think. and whatever they choose become in the meantime - i'm going to love them for it.

[daisy-milk]

MAROONED.pdf

➠ office_crush!Han x reader

➠ wc: 3.7k

➠ summary: your workplace becomes target to an unfortunate hostage situation. fortunately the assaliants don't seem violent, however unfortunately, you get shoved into a trunk with your office crush.

➠ warnings: smut, fingering, overstimulation, piv, mentions of a hostage situation, bondage

➠ masterlist

➠ a/n: had this for a while haha

“mmmff!!” 

you tried to at least sound assertive, but it was a bit hard with duct tape sealing your lips shut. however, that didn’t stop you from spewing muffled curses at the man who was currently dragging you to his car. you couldn’t do much but flail your zip-tie bound hands and growl unknown obscenities through your closed mouth, but somehow it seemed to have kept your assailant nervous. or maybe he was just like that from the start. 

“i-i’m sorry ma’am,” the masked person stuttered quietly. 

poor kid, you thought. he couldn’t have been older than 19 and it didn’t seem like he wanted to even be here, “w-watch your head…” the kid’s hand gently pushed your head down to try and shove you into the trunk of a small black sedan, but you resisted, easily shoving out of his grasp. you gave the assailant an incredulous look and his shoulders visibly slumped. suddenly, the kid’s eyes widened from under his mask and before you could even tilt your head in question, you felt large hands snatch your body, nearly folding you in half to shove into the trunk. you didn’t have any time to even react before another body was forced into the trunk with you. 

“you can’t do one simple thing, idiot?” you heard a new voice from outside the trunk. you couldn’t see who it was who threw you into the car, but you did hear a loud slap from where the two criminals stood, “get in the damn car and meet me at the location. and you better not fuck up again, hear me?”

the trunk was cramped, various tools and suspiciously full duffel bags crammed into your back and not to mention the body of another unfortunate hostage that was just shoved in blocking your view of your kidnappers. you writhed a bit, trying to shimmy over the person, but to no avail when the hood of the trunk was slammed shut leaving you in pitch darkness. 

you rolled your eyes and slumped back. there was a small sliver of light that peeked through the thin opening of the trunk, but the dim light was enough to finally realize who you were taken with. han jisung. to be trapped with anyone and it just so happened to be your work crush. the two of you had a little back and forth thing going on, one of you saying something mildly flirty and the other might respond with the same energy, but neither of you doubled down. it always ended how it started except for the fact that you both left with bright red blushes burning onto your cheeks. pretty juvenile for a pair of grown adults, many would say, but he was the reason you’d be excited to actually go to work. hell, today you even “unintentionally” brought that candy he had mentioned once, but it also just had to happen that your workplace becomes the target of a now hostage situation.

you glanced over at him and he was already looking at you. neither of you had much fear or anxiety written on your faces, despite the situation, but there weren’t any signs of a weapon on the robbers and they didn’t seem the type to kill anyone. you were just hostages. clearly, it was quiet between the two of you with the duct tape over your lips, but the sound of the engine starting had immediately alerted the two of you. you let out a loud sigh through the tape as you felt the car start to move. 

the both of you endured the drive. it seemed to be a getaway chase by the way the car was recklessly steering, throwing your bodies around with every bump and turn. one bump and you flipped onto your other side. another turn and you heard a loud thump followed by a groan, Han must have hit his head. a third and fourth and the two of you are flying every which way inside the crowded trunk space. the fifth time came around and you felt the car halt to a harsh stop. the momentum sent your body flying forward, groaning as you slammed against the wall of the trunk. not only you were affected of course, but Han’s body followed suit, his front being smashed into your back. it seemed that after the car had slammed on the brakes, the police had finally caught up. blaring sirens were heard from outside the vehicle and the loudspeaker from the cop car spoke, 

“PULL YOUR VEHICLE OVER IMMEDIATELY. YOU ARE UNDER ARREST,” you let out a breath of relief, but the second you did you realized how close Han was as you were able to feel his breath as well, pressed up tightly behind you. you couldn’t move away either, “STEP OUT OF THE VEHICLE WITH YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR.”

moments passed and you vaguely heard the commotions of the arrest being made. though, you couldn’t focus on much that was going on outside due to your mind racing. how could you focus when you felt Han’s toned chest rising shallowly up and down against your back. the warmth from his body radiating through that thin button up shirt he always wore that may be a size too small. you always noticed that. if you were a normal person you could tell him that he might have outgrown his shirt when he started working out, his pecs giving the buttons that kept his shirt together a run for their money. but you never said a thing, drooling over the way the seams would fight for their life every time he would stretch at his desk. he was so close. your bare legs brushed against his slacks and your imagination ran wild. you tried to shuffle in your restraints, there was a dampness to your panties that you realized made you quite uncomfortable and awkward, especially with the man causing it right behind you. unfortunately for you, instead of successfully concealing anything, your pencil skirt began to scrunch up at the waist. right. it comes back to you, the fact that you chose to wear your shortest office skirt today to impress Han now biting you in the ass. you curse to yourself as your choice in outfit now backfires on you, and you were certain, with how close he was pressed up against you, that you were now staining his formerly clean trousers with your shameful arousal. at least you were lucky he couldn’t see the intense blush making your face grow redder than a tomato. for a moment, you had forgotten that your mouth was taped shut as you attempted to offer a quick ‘sorry’ for your tragic situation, but all that came out was a muffle. a muffle that sounded too close to a moan. and to think you didn’t think it could get worse. here you are, struggling against his frontside, dripping wet, and moaning with no way of explaining yourself. to say you were embarrassed couldn’t begin to describe how you felt. maybe you could use this whole hostage situation as an excuse to quit and move far, far away because there was no way you could face him ever again after this. speaking of the hostage situation, it had been way too long for the police to be making this arrest. was there more than just that one teen that was driving? you swear you heard several cops too… what could possibly be taking so long? snapping out of your moment, you tried to listen for anything outside the vehicle. nothing. had they not realized that you two were in the trunk? you listened in again. dead silence. just the sounds of cars driving by. 

‘theres no way,’ you thought, ‘did they seriously leave us here..?’

you tried to turn around, but as you moved it was Han’s turn to let out a loud groan. your eyes widened, worried that you might have unintentionally hurt him, you instinctively shuffled again to check up on him to no avail. however, this time you moved, he let out more of a whine. following that, his head dropped into the crevice of your neck and you could feel the beads of sweat that decorated his forehead. it soaked into your hair. you could smell him now. you could feel his heavy breaths through his nose on your skin. the whine, the groan as well, they weren’t noises in response to pain. you felt it now that he’s shuffling in discomfort. you felt him, rock hard, hidden behind the fabric of his pants. he was just as affected as you. yet again, forgetting you couldn’t move, you squirmed again, this time your back arching a little more to test the waters. your hypothesis had been right as his head that was buried in your neck now craned backwards, hips lightly meeting yours as he let out another muffled groan. 

maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that the cops had forgotten about you. 

spurred on by your hornyness and newfound confidence, you started to grind against him. his head that he threw back now shot back into where it was tucked into the place where your neck and shoulder met, and if his lips weren’t taped, you might have felt his soft lips press against your skin. his warm breath tickled your skin as you continued to move against his body, his hips now mirroring your actions. as you both desperately grinded against each other, you felt and heard his breaths grow more erratic. you could tell he wanted more the way his hips began to thrust at your backside as if he was in you. and how badly you wanted him to be. as time went on, he only grew more greedy and impatient with the way he humped against you. there was a dull thump every time his hips met yours causing you to let out an almost too dramatic whine. you weren’t quite sure what happened, but in that moment you heard a snap from behind you. somehow Han had managed to break the zip-ties that held his hands together and you knew that the way his hands immediately flew to your hips. next came the sound of him ripping the tape from his mouth. it almost sounded painful, but you didn’t have much time to dwell on that fact as you heard his deep voice purr against your ear, 

“you… dirty little thing,” his hands squeezed the flesh of your hips as he pressed his crotch sharply against your butt, “we were taken hostage and you still have it in you to tease me like a slut?” the lange hands that help you started scrunching up the material of your skirt even further, practically making it a belt as it rested around you waist, “look at you… should have known when you came to work in this tiny little thing,” and you were happy that he noticed, “if we hadn’t been taken, maybe i would have had my way with you in the storage closed. god knows how long i’ve wanted to.” he sucks in a breath against the shell of your ear, “sucks that this is how it finally happens, but i’m not complaining. gotta admit it's awfully cute seeing you all tied up like this. was thinking about being a gentleman and helping you out of these, but i think i really like seeing you struggle,” he murmurs, playing with the zip-ties on you. 

his hands wrap around your torso to hold you close, and for a moment, he pauses, “gotta know if you really want this though…,” you couldn’t see him, but you could hear the sincerity in his words, “if you want to keep going nod, but if you want me to stop kick me… or something. we can pretend this never happened if that's the case.”

you barely gave him the time to finish speaking and you were frantically nodding your head, whining desperately at the same time. he chuckled, “i figured. just had to ask, but with how wet you are,” he reaches down to feel your soaking panties, he groans, “i could have easily assumed. felt it through my pants ya know?”

you let out an embarrassed whine, squirming a little in his hold, “aw, don’t be shy. do you not feel how hard you make me? heh, i got pretty embarrassed too. couldn’t help it though… the way your cute little butt felt against me, i was losing my mind. i always lose my mind around you if i’m being honest…" Han didn’t give you much time to process what he just said as his slender fingers peeled the fabric of your panties to the side and plunged two digits into your sopping hole. you moaned out loudly through your nose. you arched against him as han continued to pump his fingers in and out of you, and you could feel the dull ache due to your hands being tied, but the pleasure from han’s fingers made you forget any other sensation. 

“you like that?” he practically moaned into your ear. his hips moved in synchronization with his fingers, every time his rock hard bulge pressed into you, he shoved his fingers deep into you. maybe he was possibly more desperate than you based on the way it seemed he was nearly cumming in his pants just by fingering you. because he was the only one not restrained by tape over his mouth, his throaty whines were loud and clear. and of course he was reaching places deeper in your hole that you have never discovered before, you should have known from all the times you have stared at his long fingers at work, imagining them inside you the way they are now. juices gushed down not just his fingers, but his hand as he sped up his ministrations. the warm, musky smell of it now suffocating the both of you.

“god i want to taste you so bad. eat out all of that cream you’re soaking my hand with,” you moan in response, “always wondered how good you taste. i’ll save it for next time. maybe in the breakroom? eat you instead of that gnarly cafeteria food?”

the thin layer of moisture that coated your skin was not forming little beads of sweat as it began to drip down you. your body jerked against him and he could tell you were getting close. his fingers curled and you let out an impossibly high pitched sound. 

“almost there baby?” he urged. he was now slightly propped up on his elbow as he dug somehow deeper into you. you could see his shoulder flex as he pumped brutally into you. your head craned back into his chest as more sounds released from you, “yeah? yeah? c’mon little thing, wanna see you drench me.” that was about all it took, his filthy yet delicious words, and you jolted. you came almost silently, you couldn’t even warn him as you pulsed around his hand. he held you body tightly to him as you jerked through your orgasm, “mmm there it is… yeah. fuck- god y-you’re so tight…” you sucked in a gasp as he worked you through your release, his fingers now overstimulating you and there was no way of telling him to slow down. you whine, as a way of telling him it was becoming too much, but he didn’t relent.

“is to too much baby? mmh one more please? we got time,” han coaxed in your ear, “one more and i’ll fuck you. please, please baby? wanna feel that little pussy clench one more time around my fingers.”

it wasn’t as if you had much of a choice anyways, but the way his words cooed into your ear and his undeniable skill, you weren’t really complaining much. you melted into him, trying your best to let him have his way with you. you couldn’t help the little jolts from overstimulation every now and then, but han was too blind with lust to even acknowledge it. he simply held you tight and continued to fuck you with his fingers. the way he moaned into your hair was as if he could feel what you were feeling himself. 

“f-fuck… c’mon baby, give it to me before i cream my pants… mmm please…” he was begging you now. his voice drenched in lust and desperation. if you weren’t close already, the way he twisted his hand and pressed against your mound added just the right amount of pressure to clit, to make you see white once again. 

“yes… oh yes baby give it to me,” he let out. your combined breath was shaky as he retracted his hand to lick his fingers clean. once again he moaned loudly as if he just orgasmed just by tasting you, “just as delicious as i imagined,” he chuckled, pulling you close to him and turning you over on your side to face him, “i’ll try not to be greedy and ask for another one.” he smiles at you, his little heart shaped grin melting your heart. to emphasize his statement, he gives you a little tease by pinching your clit, making you jump. your eyes squeeze shut, “heh… sorry, you’re just… so cute.” the last words coming out breathy, “god i just have to-”

with that he begins to peel off the tape covering your lips. it should have been more painful, but it could matter less with the way you were yearning for his mouth. it seemed as if he felt the same way with the way your lips smashed together after not even a moment to breathe. han’s tongue shoved into your throat as he devoured you, hands idly crawling up your body to hold you jaw, large thumbs resting on your cheeks as he maneuvered your head to match his kisses. you wanted to mirror him but you were still restrained behind your back. han looked down at where your hands were struggling and pulled away from the kiss. 

“oh.. heh,” he chuckled, “i uhm… don’t have scissors or anything. guess you gotta stay like that it seems.” 

“oh for sure, han,” you spoke your first words to him since being trapped in this car, “is that how you got out of yours too?” you questioned, incredulously. 

“guess he didn’t tie me well,” he grinned, clearly lying between his teeth. 

there was no response. instead, han pulled you back into him as he lifted your leg to wrap over his waist. all you could do was watch and lick your lips as he unzipped his fly. you wanted to be the one to free his hard cock, finally feel it for yourself, but yet again you were reminded about the stupid zip-ties holding you back. perhaps you’ll get him back for this someday. 

barely pulling his pants down, han finally pulled his cock out. his hands pulled your face again and once more continued to make out with you. your tongues fought hard against each other inside your warm mouths, and without warning you felt han line himself up with your hole. you felt him start to slowly inch in as he pressed his lips on you harder, as if to try to distract you. it felt as if he was never ending as he slowly slid in, already hitting your limit when you look down to see he’s only halfway in. he scoffs, “you can fit the rest in right?” han teases. you both knew you were going to. it was how long he would give you to adjust. you knew he was an impatient man though, so it was no surprise when he pushed the remainder of him a little too quickly. you felt filled to the brim, moaning out a stifled, slightly pained sound.

“alright baby? sorry… i couldn’t wait… had to be inside you,” his stilled, letting you adjust as his hands petting the back of your head as if to sooth you. his lips found your neck and began to bite and suck in the meanwhile, “you’ve been so good to me, baby. take your time, lemme know when you’re ready, yeah?” 

after only a few moments you felt ready. or at least that was what you convinced yourself, growing too impatient as well, the need for him growing too strong. 

“please move,” you sighed into the top of his head as he buried himself into creating dark hickeys across your neck. he smiled at you again. you could never get enough of his little grin. such a sweet smile he had, you couldn’t imagine it was worn by the same man who now started to pound your brains out in the back of a musty sedan after a botched hostage situation. 

han was all over you, his hands and lips roaming all over your body as he fucked you, and you would have reciprocated if you could, but you simple took it, everything he poured out to you through his actions. at this point you were drenched in each other’s sweat, the heat from the tiny space now catching up with you, but you could care less. you couldn’t care less in the same way you began to hear sounds right outside the car in the back of your mind. neither of you paid much attention to it, simply too caught up in each other to hear the loud clank and jolt of the car. han’s moans blocked out all the sounds from the outside world as his hips non-stop thrusted against you. you could deal with whatever was happening outside after you both came. 

“close, han” you mewled

“me too… come with me?” it was almost too easy for you to let go, already far gone from han’s prep barely an hour ago. the two of you hit your highs simultaneously. but in that moment, you felt the vehicle you were in tip upwards. right as han’s load shot into you, the both of you began to slide all the way to the back of the trunk. you landed on him, bodies smushed against each other from the momentum, but at least you both managed to come before it happened. it took you a moment, but you both regained your breathing and returned to normal. you looked at each other, your pupils dilated as you stared into him. 

“did they just…” he blinked, “tow the car with us in it?”

[soap-brain]

i think one of the nate eliot things is that they're both fucking unhinged. there's something feral about them, something that's capable of disregarding basic humanity. we know eliot is a killer, and a ruthless one at that, and he's not afraid of being in those kind of situations, which in a way dehumanises him, this inability to feel fear.

and nate. nate!! that man is terrifying! get in line, or get out of the way is his motto, and he applies it to absolutely everyone. especially in the earlier seasons, and yes he applies it to sophie (who is unarguably closest to him) too! for maggie he decides that she will get out of the way (because falling in line with him would mean that she would break the law, and she's a Good Citizen, not a Criminal or a Thief, and it never occurs to him that it's not a black and white situation... or that his ex wife matches his crazy).

and if you do neither, he ends you. simple as that. he doesn't kill you and he doesn't physically harm you, but what he does is arguably worse, because he ruins your life in ways eliot can't.

and they very quickly recognise each other as apex predators and both allow the other to use that for their crusade. eliot is a weapon that needs pointing in the right direction, that's what he's getting out of their relationship; and nate needs someone who'll have a go at him and who he can't actually hurt. because nate ruins lives by ruining their reputations, and what reputation does eliot have to lose? and conversely, not even nate ford could convince the world that eliot spencer isn't really fucking dangerous

(sidenote: that's why making moreau watch eliot spencer decrying the evil presidential dog fights is so fucking funny. there's an excellent post about it somewhere on here)

eliot thinks he's further along the path of being something inhuman, and he also thinks nate can still be saved from becoming that too. being an insurance cop, a "good guy" (btw a very laughable concept about how working in insurance makes you a good person. like. if that were the case then how come the same "good guys" let nate's son die so they didn't have to pay for his treatment?), was what kept nate on the straight and narrow before, and now giving him something to do might stop him from going completely off the rails ("how long until you fall apart again? a guy like you can't be out of the game, that's why you were a wreck. you need the chase" is what eliot's saying to convince nate to stay with the team).

unfortunately running with criminals doesn't fix nate the way eliot would like for it to, because the guy suddenly stops recognising any and all societal rules and overcompensates by trying to keep full control of everything all the time. he is so unreasonably mad at sophie for trying to help her friend teresa who got screwed over by marcone.

"she should've known what she got into, her husband working with the mob" and cpl perry from the ep before should've known what he got into, joining the military, but for some reason he's worth helping because he didn't "choose" to become a criminal. did teresa choose to get in with the mob or did she and her husband just not have another chance?

and when the entire team agrees they want to take that job, nate throws a hissy fit. tells them all to walk if they don't like the way he runs the team.

so does leverage fix nate? maybe after five seasons. but at first it makes him worse because between "not having to abide by normal human laws anymore" and the alcohol he completely loses his restraint

and eliot gets that. eliot has been there, has completely lost any and all principles (working for moreau mostly) and is now trying to glue the pieces of himself back together into something that isn't horrible. but nate isn't there yet. nate is still violent and dangerous, and eliot is the only one on the team who isn't disgusted by it. sophie certainly is. hardison and parker are too, even if they don't say it out loud. eliot may not like it, but he gets it.

and in return, nate is the only one who knows about what happened in the big bang job. he can hold eliot back with as little as a gesture or a look and it's not a slight to eliot at all. eliot trusts nate to point him in the right direction because they both need the same thing:

to be a good man.

also:

eliot: what, you think the only thing i know how to do is bust heads? nate: no... well, yeah. eliot: hold a knife like this, cuts through an onion. hold a knife like this, cuts thought like eight yakuza in 4 seconds. screams, carnage... nate: yeah good point actually

like apart from how it's funny, any normal person would react with some version of "that's so fucked up". and nate is just like yeah nah that tracks actually, fair enough, do carry on

also @scotchiegirl something about nate and eliot and violence? sorry for tagging you aslkdjfhasdlkfj i just had ThoughtsTM

[lordprettyflackotara]

dollhouse || jeff the killer || part two

SMUT DNI 18+

“You’re fucking insufferable!

“I’m insufferable? Which one of us fucked up the mission?”

“Obviously you!”

You audibly scoffed. The mission had gone perfectly, minus one tiny little flaw. Neither of you anticipated your getaway car being broken into and stolen. It resulted in a very awkward game of hide and seek, where you both were forced to hide behind a dumpster until someone came to get you. (Ben found the situation hilarious).

Unfortunately for both of you, EJ was the one who was ordered to pick you up. The proxies were used to your and Jeff’s bickering, the three often intervening and picking sides. EJ on the other hand was more reserved, always silently observing and thinking. The final piece to the tragic puzzle, were the three days spent tracking down said car to cover your tracks. In recent years Slender had become more insistent on being careful, making sure no traces of creeps were left behind. With EJ’s sense of smell it wasn’t hard to find the thief, just time consuming.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy torching the car and watching it be engulfed into flames. What you didn’t enjoy, was quite literally everything else. Including the long car ride back to the mansion, which included both you and Jeff sharing the backseat. Originally you both had fought over the passenger seat, EJ quick to manhandle the both of you into the backseat by force. Now you were forced in a confided space with your arch nemesis, one who had came in you days prior.

“I’m not the one who decided to finger paint blood on the wall. Maybe if we had saved the arts and crafts bullshit we’d still have a fucking car,” You argued. You were both still covered in dry blood, exhausted, and filthy. Every ounce of energy you had left was dedicated to spiting at each other. “EJ are you hearing this shit? The whole go to sleep thing is kinda my thing. Not my fault you weren’t clever enough to come up with a signature,” Jeff debated. EJ sighed, ignoring the both of you as he continued driving down the dimly lit road.

“Yeah I can tell your signature was made when you were fourteen. It screams edgy preteen,” You spat, crossing your arms. You looked out of the window, sick of seeing Jeff’s face. You hated how he made you feel. So angry. So vulnerable. It was like he could see right through you, both of you apart of the same parting glass. “I’m not the one who got horny mid mission,” Jeff grumbled. You shot daggers at him with your firey gaze as you turned your head. “What the fuck did you just say?” You asked. Jeff matched your energy, both of you meeting halfway. “I think you heard me loud and clear doll face,” He snickered.

“I will throw you out of this moving car Jeffrey,” You growled. Jeff came closer, your faces an inch apart. “Yeah? I’d like to see you try-” He began, both of you flying forward against the seats in front of you. EJ had slammed on the brakes, the car coming to a sudden stop in the middle of the road. “Will you two shut the fuck up? You are driving me nuts! Either fuck, get married, or kill each other. Pick one. Or you know what? Fuck it. Maybe do all three. In that order. Just shut the fuck up!” EJ yelled. Jack was never the violent or expressive type, not in your experience. You’d never heard him mumble more than four sentences before.

You picked yourself up off of the floorboard, trying to look proper as you resumed your position in your seat. Jeff did the same, watching as EJ slowly turned back around. He shook his head, slowly pressing his foot on the gas. “We did fuck, just to be clear,” Jeff clarified. You screeched in horror. “Jeff?! What the fuck?” You said, slapping his arm. Jeff rolled his eyes. “Cmon dude it’s fucking EJ. If anyone understands the primal fucking thing it’s him,” He said, pointing at the demon in question. Jack slammed on the brakes once again, your head hitting the seat in front of you this time.

“I’m getting out of the car. Get your energy out by fucking or killing each other, I don’t care which. Just let me know when you’re done,” EJ grumbled, undoing his seatbelt. You reached over the seat and grabbed his arm. You wanted nothing more than to go home and shower. And if you had to shut Jeff up to do it, you would. “We’ll figure it out and leave you out of it. Okay? Please take us home,” You say softly. Out of all of the mansions residents, Jack probably bothered you the least. Most of the time he kept himself wrapped up in his medical lab. You only really saw him when one of the proxies needing stitching up, EJ taking pride in the one thing he considered himself to be good at.

Jack sighed, not saying anything but beginning to drive the car again. “Look at you getting all soft on EJ. You gonna beg him to fuck you too?” Jeff huffed, jealousy radiating off of his skin. You turned to him, climbing over him and straddling his lap. Your hand flew to his throat, squeezing the sides like your life depended on it. “If you keep yapping we are never going to get home. Shut up,” You snarled. You could feel Jeff’s cock grow hard underneath you, your eyebrows raising. “Say please and i’ll shut up,” Jeff said, his voice husky. You couldn’t decide if it was because of his lust or lack of an airway.

You most certainly did not want to say please to Jeff of all people, but you did want to get home. More than anything. You slowly lowered your hips, grinding against Jeff’s aching boner. “Please,” You say softly, meeting his obsidian eyes. The pale killer quickly flipped you over, planting his lips on yours. You could hardly process your back hitting the backseat, the air being knocked out of your lungs. You struggled to keep up with his frantic kisses, as if he just couldn’t get enough of you. His pale hands slipped under your shirt, squeezing your mounds of needy flesh.

You let out a small groan, Jeff’s obsidian eyes temporarily torn away from you. “EJ if I catch you looking back here i’ll scoop out your eyes,” Jeff threatened. There was a brief silence in the car, before Jack turned on his blinker to turn. “I don’t have eyes Jeff,” He replied blandly. Jeff squeezed at your breast harder, the pain making you squirm. “Yeah yeah you get the point,” Jeff barked. He smashed his lips back onto yours, your fingers desperately fiddling with his jeans. “That desperate huh doll?” He snickered. You rolled your eyes, Jeff forcing a groan from your lips as his finger toyed with your nipple.

“Thats it, such pretty noises. Let it all out,” He mocked. He helped you shove off his jeans, his hand grasping his hard cock. Jeff buried his head in your neck, sucking and lapping at your sensitive skin. The two of you were whimpering messes, completely forgetting Jack was even there. “Don’t leave marks you asshole,” You whined, your hips rolling upwards. Jeff grinned devilishly as he released your neck with a pop. “Little too late. Good luck explaining that,” He argued. You ran your thumb over his slit, the pale killer above letting out a groan. You grabbed him by his hoodie, changing the position.

Jeff sat upwards in the backseat, watching as you scrubbed your blood soaked scrubs off. You straddled Jeff, melting into the kiss as his large hands grabbed your ass. You hated how good he made you feel. His wet you got from his touch and degrading words. How divine it felt that your slick was rubbing up and down his hard cock, and all you could want was more. He slapped your ass harshly, your whine quickly swallowed by his eager lips. You hovered over his cock, before slowly sinking down onto it. You let out a string of curses, a cocky smirk dancing across Jeff’s lips.

“Go on, let EJ know how good I made you feel,” Jeff purred. Your right hand flew to his neck, choking the sides as you sank down lower onto his cock. “Shut the fuck up Jeffrey,” You argued weakly. Your walls spasmed as you struggled to accommodate his size, your drenched cunt pulling him in. Jeff’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as you choked him, the pale killer in more pleasure than he’d let on. “Look at Jeff EJ, look at how much of a pathetic fucktoy he is for me,” You huffed. You sank fully into his cock, the two of you breathing heavily as you finally made eye contact. Jeff’s hand brought itself to your throat, the two of you choking the other.

“Get on with it or i’ll bend you over and give Jacky a real show,” Jeff threatened weakly. You rose your hips, before rolling them back down on his cock. You both let out a unison of groans, your body beginning to ride his shaft faster. You released his throat, grabbing handfuls of his hoodie to maintain balance. “F-fuck Jeff,” You whined. His cock was abusing your g spot perfectly, your body on cloud nine. Jeff released your throat, bringing his large hand to your cheek. “Thats it doll, keep making that stupid fucked out face of yours,” He huffed. His other hand strayed from your ass, slithering to your clit. He began to draw slow circles, your brain turning to mush.

“Fucking hell- please go faster,” You pleaded. Jeff brought his forehead to yours, the two of you moaning in unison as you shamelessly rode his cock. Your knuckles were turning white from gripping his hoodie so hard. It was then the killer began fucking up into you, your moans becoming louder and unhinged. “Jeff! Shit!” You moaned. Jeff stroked your cheek with his thumb, the loving action almost making you furrow your eyebrows in questioning. But he seemed content and you couldn’t deny your enjoyment. “I hate you Jeffrey Woods,” You hissed, hating the way your body was reacting to his.

“I hate you more dollface,” He seethed, both of his hands grabbing your waist. Jeff gripped your waist so tightly you knew you’d have bruises in the morning. “I hate the air you breathe,” You argued. Jeff’s thrust into you, knocking your next insult out of your lungs. “Yeah? I hate how good you feel wrapped around my cock,” Jeff panted. You could feel the cord in your stomach tightening, your thighs beginning to shake. You brought your fingers down to your clit, circling the sensitive bud as Jeff rammed into you. “I hate you,” You moaned, throwing your head back in pleasure.

Jeff grabbed your throat, forcing you to look at him as you both reached your highs. “I hate you too, slut,” He spat. His words sent you over the edge, your walls spasming around his cock as you came. “Jesus fuck, it’s like you’re milking me,” He groaned, cumming deep inside of your cunt. You both panted in unison, trying to come down from your highs. Exhausted, you rested your head against Jeff’s shoulder.

Jacks voice was the next thing you heard as you came down, “You two need fucking therapy.”

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (39)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: description of character death, childbirth, anxiety, sex content, smut, angst, breeding kink ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

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

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

What he had done and the death of his grandfather, although it filled him with sadness, eased the tension between Dragonstone and the Red Keep to some extent. Something of a ceasefire was to last until his wife gave birth to his child.

He was horrified at how much depended on this.

To his despair, Harrenhal, although in his mind it was supposed to be a place of their solace and rest, had become a neutral fortress, with members of both the Black and Green factions arriving there.

Neither Daemon nor his mother had any intention of leaving until the matter was resolved once and for all, but they did not say so out loud. Daemon focused on searching for Larys Strong and burning nearby villages, while his mother tried to support his wife through the hardships of expecting his offspring.

Her lower abdomen swelled from his inheritance more and more each day, her breasts grew fuller, her hips wider.

Before his eyes she was changing, becoming even more feminine.

Although the maester's indications were different, in the privacy of his chamber they made love to each other, unable to maintain restraint in this aspect.

He did not dare to be aggressive or violent towards her, treating her body as if it were a temple; his fingers, as he pressed his naked body against her back, lying on his side with her, made sure that she would be all wet and moist before he put his erection, aching with desire, into her.

Once he was sure her body would accept him with ease, he lifted her soft thigh gently, allowing her hand to direct the head of his cock into her slit. His free hand clamped down on her full, plump, soft breast as with a slow, unhurried thrust he opened her lazily on his swollen length, moaning with her in delight.

"– yes –" She breathed out, clasping her hands on his arms that embraced her, rocking her hips, trying to find a rhythm with him and force him to accelerate.

"– no, sweet girl – we're only going to tease this little cunt – we can't hurt the baby –" He whispered in her ear, placing sticky, hot kisses on her neck and shoulders, leaving wet marks behind as his hard manhood opened her slick, fleshy walls again and again with the soft, deep stabs of his hips.

She shook her head, her breath heavy at the thought that he might take it out of her when it felt so good, when he was filling her insides so wonderfully again, thirsting for his closeness.

"– please – please, husband, inside me –" She mumbled out, tilting her head back with a sigh of euphoria as his thumb pressed hard on her puffy nipple, teasing it between his fingers. Her core clenched greedily on his erection, sucking it in, making him involuntarily speed up.

"– fuck –" He exhaled, feeling his will to slide out of her move away from him with each faster, sharper thrust. He gave up when he heard the loud clicks of her wetness as he began to pound into her with all his strength, panting hard along with her, chasing his fulfilment.

"– is this what you want? – you're carrying my baby, and you already want another? – hm? –" He hissed, driving his fingers into her wonderfully soft, hot breast. She squirmed at his words, grabbing his hair from behind, responding with movements of her hips to his thrusts, soaking his cock wet.

"– yes –" She mumbled out, already thinking with her weeping cunt rather than her sober mind.

"– fucking beg – beg your uncle –" He growled, tightening his hand around her neck, careful not to overdo it though. She moaned loudly, her leaking, hot walls giving his throbbing erection a thirsty, quick squeeze.

"– please – p-please, uncle, oh gods – oh gods, oh gods –" She babbled as he felt her wetness run down her thighs with her fulfilment, his hand stroking her swollen abdomen before he sighed heavily in relief, his warm spend filling her insides again.

"– Rhaenys –" He muttered, letting go of her neck, snuggling her back into him, placing loud, hot kisses on her neck. He felt her jump up suddenly, excited, and she grabbed his hand quickly, placing it on her stomach.

"– can you feel it, uncle? – here –" She gasped, and indeed, he seemed to feel movement under her skin, and then again and again.

He blinked, breathing loudly through his mouth, and smiled involuntarily, feeling warmth in his heart at the thought that their child lived deep inside her, safe and sound.

Their little dragon.

"– yes – yes, I can feel it –" He whispered, pressing his cheek against hers, looking at their entwined hands.

"– our child has sensed our excitement –" She said with amusement, and he hummed at her words, placing a lazy, soft kiss on her shoulder.

With each week, the baby in her womb made her more and more uncomfortable – her ankles swelled from even a short walk, she was dying once from the heat and once from the cold.

He felt helpless knowing that everything she was experiencing was on her shoulders, and there was nothing he could do to relieve her even for a moment.

As her husband, he made sure that every evening there was a tub of warm or cold water waiting for her, depending on her mood, sitting by her side and stroking her hair as she lay in the bath with her eyes closed, trying to relax. Before bed, he massaged her back, calves and feet, wanting to ease her pain a little.

"– ah! –" She hissed, trying to get away from his knuckles that were digging into her spine. "– not so hard! – it hurts –"

"– I have to do it hard – otherwise it won't have any effect –" He replied, pulling her back to him, putting as much force into his massage as he saw fit. She quivered in his embrace, begging him to stop, and when he finally finished, she sighed in relief as she felt the tension leave her muscles.

"– better? –" He asked, and she nodded wordlessly.

The only comfortable sleeping position for her was lying on her side, so he embraced her from behind, wrapping his arms around her and their child.

Although the presence of her father and brother, as well as his mother, drove him mad, on the other hand, he felt safer because of them, knowing that he was not watching over their safety alone.

A few months earlier he had not believed it possible, but he and his niece were once again conversing with each other as they had when they were children: frankly and directly, sometimes leading to arguments and anger which, however, quickly passed and they fell asleep each evening in a tender embrace.

The knowledge that he shared everything he was experiencing with her, the weight of the future, the weight of his inheritance, the weight of the crown made him have the strength to bear it.

He could finally see a meaning in it all, as if at last the gods had revealed to him the purpose of his life.

The being growing in her womb fascinated him more and more – he could lie for hours with his cheek nestled against her belly swollen from his heritage, kissing her warm skin, her fingers playing with strands of his hair.

The thing that excited him most was the fact that his baby moved often or kicked hearing his voice.

"You don't let your mother sleep at night. You squirm terribly." He murmured and smiled involuntarily when he felt the little creature twist inside her.

Increasingly, he wondered, had his father cuddled in this way with his mother's body when she carried him under her heart? Or did that honour accrue only to Aemma?

He felt a cold sweat on his back thinking about his wife's grandmother and what had happened to her.

He promised himself that he would save his niece's life even if it meant the death of his child.

He preferred to live through his grief and beget another than lose her again.

Daemon, unable to bear being in the same fortress with his mother, gave himself completely to the search for Lord Strong and, to everyone's surprise, he found him where no one expected him to be: in King's Landing.

He didn't know who had reported this to his uncle, but he assumed that the women in the brothels were his eyes and ears: he had received word that Larys Strong was hiding in one of the ports and wanted to get out of Westeros by ship in one of the empty wine barrels, to disappear forever in Essos and never be found.

Daemon was quicker, and although his original plan was different, he liked the vision of having his head impaled on a spike. The rest of his body was thrown into the river, while he took the part from the neck upwards with him only to throw it under his wife's feet.

"He lived like a rat and died like a rat." He said.

Then, to her despair, he ordered his head to be stuck on a spike above the walls of Harrenhal to welcome all comers, warning them to know what would befall those who threatened his children.

Although he felt regret and shame that he was not the one who had caught him, he was immensely relieved to know that everything had returned to some point from which their family could begin again.

He didn't believe he could ever forgive Luke and didn't want to see him: all he wanted was for him to rule in Driftmark, beget his bastard children and not appear before his face.

The thought of Jace inheriting Dragonstone filled him with frustration, however, he knew that this compromise for everyone was bittersweet, and he had to swallow his deep sip in silence.

What he had written to her about in his letter had come true.

Each of them had to sacrifice something.

What bothered him was that the closer it got to the childbirth, the more his wife became silent and thoughtful, closing herself off in her mind.

He knew this was not a good sign.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked sitting down next to her on the bed, pulling her out of her reverie. She blinked and shook her head, stroking her swollen lower abdomen.

"About nothing." She whispered.

"I want to know." He said impatiently, and she sighed heavily. She pressed her lips together, as if she was embarrassed by what she was about to say.

"My body will never be the same again after… after this." She confessed, and he blinked, completely not understanding what she meant.

"I do not follow."

She closed her eyes, impatient and distraught, tightening her fingers on her nightgown.

"My body after I give birth. My stomach, my thighs, my breasts. They will never be the same again. I'll probably have scars, my skin won't be as firm, it will be…"

"Do you really want to speak with me about scars? About irreversible changes?" He asked roughly, and she lowered her head, her eyes red from tears of shame.

"I told you it was nothing." She muttered in a trembling voice, not looking at him.

He pressed his lips together, feeling a discomfort in his stomach, knowing that he had reacted inappropriately and this was not what he meant. He sighed, considering for a moment whether or not to do it, and then decided it was the only way.

He reached into his left eye and grasped the sapphire that had been inserted into his eye socket, then took it out, for the first time in the presence of another person.

He turned his face towards her, but her gaze was fixed on her hands.

"Look at me." He said softly.

She lifted her eyes to his and froze, surprised, her lips parted involuntarily.

"– Aemond –"

"– do you consider me disgusting? – unworthy of your love? – would you betray me and my trust by what you now see before you? –" He asked, and she shook her head quickly, her breath heavy.

"– no – no, of course not, my love – I –"

"– do you think I'm looking at every part of your body making sure it doesn't change? – that I believe that though I grow old, you will be forever young? – do you count the scars I have on my body? – do you pay attention to them, think about them when you make love to me? –" He continued to ask, tears one after another running down her cheeks. She looked at him pleadingly, shaking her head.

"– no –" She mumbled out with difficulty.

"– so why do you judge me so unfairly? – because I am a man and you are a woman? – you think you're beautiful because you're young? – you're beautiful because you're mine – because you smile at the sight of me, because your bare body is warm and moist for me, because your breasts and hips are soft when I dig my fingers into them –" He whispered, placing his hand on her knee, sliding it down to her thigh.

She looked at him with big eyes in silence, quivering, listening to him in complete silence, wiping her tears from her face flushed with emotion.

"– those are beautiful words – you moved me deeply –"

"– I love you –" He said without thinking and nodded his head as if admitting to himself that he was right. "– as you put it – it's not love like in poems – it's something painfully real –"

Although he thought they still had a few more days, the delivery took them by surprise, and his wife simply collapsed one morning as her servants were helping her dress, a loud, surprised moan leaving her lips.

"– Aemond – Aemond, g-gods, it has begun –" She cried.

He called Alys, his mother and the servants to help her immediately, not knowing what he was supposed to do himself, her face flooded with tears, the terror in her eyes that made him helpless.

She was suffering, and he could not help her.

"– leave, my Prince –" Alys ordered, and he nodded, watching her with a look of defiance.

"– she is to survive –"

The Witch of Harrenhal grinned, understanding what he meant.

As in his dream, he, Daemon and Jace were left alone in the other chamber that belonged to him, adjacent to the one where his wife lay. He covered his face with his hands, hearing her cries clearly, her screams and moans, feeling himself tremble all over, his heart in his throat.

His niece tried to bring his offspring into the world in pain, suffering for him and his cause, and he could only sit and wait.

"– childbirth – a nightmare for wives and husbands – drink, nephew –" Daemon said in a bored, tired voice, himself visibly tense, handing him a cup of wine, which he did not, however, take from him. His uncle laughed under his breath.

"– you are as stubborn as your mother –"

He did not answer, staring dully ahead.

He was afraid, hearing her whines, that his dream would become reality, and the thought that he might lose her once again made him feel a terrifying emptiness in his mind.

He frowned when the sounds suddenly stopped, involuntarily glancing at Daemon. He was horrified to see that his uncle had also turned pale, looking towards the door, knowing that this was either a very good or very bad sign.

"What's happening?" He muttered finally, feeling like he was about to explode.

"Don't panic." Daemon answered him, licking his lower lip quickly.

Everyone jumped in their seats as the door to the chamber opened suddenly – his mother stepped inside, and they all stood up, pale and terrified.

The Queen smiled.

"You have a son."

"And her?"

"She is well. You can see her."

He rushed out of the chamber, panting heavily, and opened the door to the quarters where his wife lay. He only breathed a sigh of relief when he saw her face – she was all red and sweaty, her cheeks swollen from tears of exertion and emotion, strands of her beautiful dark hair stuck to her face.

She smiled at the sight of him in a way from which he felt like crying, only after a moment noticing the small creature wrapped in a white cloth writhing in her embrace.

He walked closer to them, feeling himself quivering all over, sitting down on the bed beside her, looking in disbelief at his inheritance, their shared effort, their shared hope.

"He has your beautiful hair. Your mother is pleased." She said, exhausted and amused. He embraced her and pressed her to his chest, kissing her fragrant hair with tenderness again and again, not knowing how else he would show her what he felt.

The fact that they had a son pleased him, but the real relief for him was that she had endured the labour so well.

He swallowed loudly and only then did he look more carefully at his son, touching his fingertips to his hand, which had clenched into a fist on his finger.

"– see? – he recognises his father –" She murmured softly, rocking the white-haired infant before placing a soft, warm kiss on its small forehead. Their son squirmed and yawned, opening his eyelids for a moment.

He felt hot at the thought that his son had her eyes.

"– what shall we name him? –" His wife asked, snapping him out of his reverie, laying her head on his shoulder. He mused for a moment, stroking her neck.

"– Viserys – as the man who betrothed us –"

[notglutenfresh]

I love the idea of James and Barty slowly becoming friends after they run into each other on the Quidditch pitch a few too many times after dark. Eventually, they just start flying with each other, and they will get upset if the other isn't there without informing them. They'll talk about nothing and everything.

James gets so comfortable with Barty that he lets it slip that he's bipolar, a fact that he tries to hide. But before he can even panic, Barty basically says, "Ayy, me too, mate." After that, James may as well have given Barty his heart on a plater because if he was able to share his most uncomfortable secret with him, then he will be able to trust him with his entire soul.

But James doesn't do things by halves. He either goes all in or doesn't do it at all. So it really wasn't a surprise when he ended up falling for Barty. He was slightly scared at first because Barty was a Slytherin and likely wasn't that great of a person outside of their nightly flying but James had never claimed to be a good person either so he just thought, "Fuck it."

Barty knew that something had shifted between them. At first, he couldn’t quite place what was different, but it didn't take him long to figure it out. Admittedly, Barty couldn’t have been more pleased to be the object of James Potter's affection, James was fit and also unnaturally nice. Realistically, Barty should have never had done anything about it, but he's selfish and wanted James more than anything.

So Barty kissed him, and for a couple of seconds, Barty thought he had it all wrong and that James didn't like him, but then his kiss was returned in full force, it almost felt as though James was trying to eat him alive.

After that night, their little escapades continued only with a lot more kissing. Sometimes, that was all they did and would never even make it into the sky. But despite this, there was a lot of unanswered tension and uncertainty between the two. It hung like a shadow over them. James was the first to bring this up a couple of months after it started, but Barty didn't really give a solid answer. It was more shrugs and shallow agreements but this really fucked with James, and he left not long after he arrived.

James wouldn't go back until Barty gave him an answer, but it didn't mean that he wouldn't check on the map to see if Barty was on the pitch and that he was safe. Fortunately, James only had to wait four days for an answer. It came in the form of Barty storming over to James after a Slytherin vs. Gryffindor Quidditch match (Gryffindor won) and snogging James as violently as he could manage, in front of the entire school.

Sure, there were a few comments thrown here and there about it that weren't particularly positive, but Barty didn't seem to care, so neither did James. It certainly helped that their best mates are both from the Black family.

[ravenbloodshot]

Pick a Card- Your True Personality

1

2-3

4

5

Instructions: Take a deep breath, and get rid of all thoughts. Then choose a number or decide by looking at the photo, I don't recommend choosing a pile based off your liking for the celeb in the photos, but do as your heart desires. Let's hope your heart steers you to the right pile

Pile 1:

This most definitely is the pile that attracts a lot of PAC veterans (aka ppl who follow a lot of PAC readers). I'm getting the vibe that you may seek a lot of validation from not only people in your life but from PAC's as well, you can get really offended by negative traits that come up in these types of readings and also likely hate all forms of criticism. You are the type to romanticize life and have an inflated ego, thinking of yourself as on a higher pedestal than others. You guys are above average in the looks department and tend to get what you want using your looks/charm. Your not going to have much trouble attracting a romantic partner, but you will have problems making them stay. You can become quite violent and hysterical when you don't get your way and that can turn your partners off. It's as if ppl will find you attractive but once they get to know you, think your batshit crazy and wish to get going asap. I'm definitely getting the vibe that you act high and mighty and like your the queen/king bee out of deep insecurities. Like a person that gets told their pretty/handsome so they go along with that but lowkey live life not 100% sure that's the case. Not calling you a bully but I do see some case of that, if your not a bully could be that you were a victim of bullying or bullied others in the past. Either way you have some aggressive, bullying ways about you.

You may not hold a healthy view of love, believing that it's your partners duty to love and care for you but you don't have to particularly do anything for them. It's the energy of a person who's married to someone completely unconditionally in love with them, while they're just there for the money/gifts. I do think you take good care of yourself (going to the gym, nails done, hair done, skin care on point, closet full of clothes your size and also smaller sizes that your working out to eventually fit into etc...). Your likely single and not happy about it, although you'll never truly admit it to yourself and neither would you to your friends.

This is the pile that has dealt with a lot of heartbreak and may have turned to a selfish but self conscious attitude to cope with it.

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Pile 2:

Ooooo, very passionate and powerful. Im seeing a duality with the feminine and masculine energy (remind me of Ryujin). You guys may be my favorite, I just get this warm tingly feeling and this random burst of energy (If I could meet with you irl, ik I would love you 💕❤ )

You are very elegant and sophisticated, giving rich girl vibes and if not rich you strive to be (and not in the way almost all ppl strive to be rich but I actually feel like you have set plans in place for yourself, your not fucking around when it comes to you getting what you want). I'm getting this real sense of knowing who you are and what you want so your quite easy to understand, you may speak bluntly and get to the point. The femininity I mentioned before shows itself in how you care for others, you protect your loved ones and you won't hesitate to stand up for those weaker than you or just in a worse off position. It's like yeah you know your Queen bee but you don't think your above others in and of itself , you just know your above certain ideas/actions of others (I mentioned this queen bee energy for pile 1, but they seemed more 'fake it till you make it' types while you seem more relaxed and confident in your own crown and still willing to fix other's crowns). Now for the masculine energy. I keep hearing the saying "I rule with a iron fist", so you guys may be quite stubborn and set in your ways. I'm also seeing a bit of a temper, you guys give such Taurus vibes, but it takes a while for it to really show its head. I don't think you blow up for every little thing but once your temper ignites, there's no putting out the flames until the fire runs its course (I'm seeing Canadian fires, how terrible and drawn out they were, it's the same as your temper).You do hold this view of "I deserve.....", which can help you to have the confidence to go after who/what you want but when your entitlement is extreme/irrational, you can come off as just a pushy asshole.

You definitely have this healing vibe to you along with this innocent love of animals, plushies, kids and all things cute and cuddly. You may talk to your pets (if you don't own a pet, you should, they will bring you a deep sense of peace/happiness). You love to feel like you've fixed people and things, you can become obsessed with helping ppl get out of their troubles and try to tend to their mental/physical health. One thing I will say is I think your the type to love the chase in relationships (you may become obsessed with being with a person who doesn't want you).

Last thing is , you can be quite the chaos bringer. I'm seeing some type of trolling on social media, if not trolling, you could just be quite aggressive with how you write on social media. I'm seeing a lot of hidden actions and secret accounts 😏

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Pile 3:

This pile has the energy of air signs. Your the type to overanalyze and over think everything. Even when it comes to things that you say, you may think about your words quite carefully before you say them. You may be an empath or bc you analyze ppl so intensely, you can pick up on others emotions/intentions and change the way you speak to fit others state of being (for an example: if a friend was in a depressive state and quite down and out, you would know better than to try to joke around, you would communicate with more kindness in your tone and try to be understanding). You can be quite humble and the humanitarian, wishing to do good for others/society (you have the energy of a therapist).

Your sarcastic and witty, quick with the comebacks and yk how to roast ppl (lol). You could have been a victim of bullying or just grew up in a tough environment and later you learned to stick up for yourself by using your words (insulting your bullies, roasting them etc...). Your words are very powerful, likely magical. Your the type to speak things into existence, so if I were you, I would be careful with what I say (which i think you do anyways, I'm just putting this out to warn you). I do see you can be quite vengeful and you have a mindset of "I'll get them before they get me". This makes you very defensive and hostile at times. Not just that but you have some jealousy issues.

You could be dealing with a break up and your heart is not open to love rn. I do think you do try to stay in a positive mindset but you could end up hiding your pain behind your laughs and smiles. Not really the type of person to deal with your emotional pain head on. You don't like to stay in one place for too long, preferring to move/travel often.

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Pile 4:

You are very much in your power and know your worth. You could be after an unconventional career that many have told you that it could never come to be but you do as you wish not as your told. I'm seeing that your quite an attractive and sexy person, very well shaped body as well (could be quite curvaceous or your obsessed with having curves) but either way you look good. You command a lot of respect and admiration from others. A lot of ppl wish to be you, look like you, or have you. Your very talented in some kind of musical sense, your likely gifted at singing (or your voice is quite enchanting). You express yourself well, a lot of ppl feel compelled by you and the way you speak (you could live in a country where your accent is different from most). You definitely have the power and the influence to get what you want, it's giving 7 rings by Ariana Grande, " I see it, I like, I want it, I got it" 💅.

I do think you could be too attached to your looks though, it's like you believe if you gain too much weight or you don't keep/get the curves you desire, Noone would find you attractive. I also see some idolizing of others bodies as well (keep off of social media as much as possible, its okay to post yourself but try not to scroll mindlessly. That fake social media shit gets to you and messes with your spirit). You may have been on your own since a young age, having to learn how to navigate the world and its evils/goods on your own. Your very independent due to this and also street smart.

Your in a stage of your life where you may be sleeping around a lot, playing seductive games, being flirtatious and plainly dating. Your likely viewing love as a game rn, and not taking anyone too serious. (If you are wanting to be more serious with love and attract a committed partner, refrain from sex when you date, your an enticing person so your partner will drive themself crazy trying to please and be with you). Most of you in this pile are just having/looking for fun though so that only pertains to a few of you.

Unfortunately, you may be the type to get into a lot of relationships in which your partner cheats or turns out to be pyscho. This may be the reason why I don't think you believe in 'true + unconditional love' (could be parental issues, childhood trauma as well). Your romantic relationships will be the thing in this lifetime that bring you the most headaches and loneliness

.

.

.

Pile 5:

I got a vibe that this pile will attract a lot of fans of Niki instead of ppl who actually feels this pile will resonate to them, so those who picked this pile.

Turn around

Inhale

Exhale

Pick a pile

Welcome.

Okay. I feel like your quite young, probably in highschool or college. You've been through a lot in your life, in which at times you've felt abandoned or ostracized. But I think those experiences have made a stronger, more resilient you. You don't play a victim in life (even if you once were) and you don't encourage others in your life to hold onto victim hood as well. You know that you have to persevere through obstacles, not stay stuck in a pity party. You do have some codependency issues, you can be too clingy and hold onto others too tight. You fear others would leave you. You fear disappointing the ones you love. (I feel like you were "the nail that stuck out and was promptly hammered in"). So I think you may have anxiety about standing out too much or appearing too different from others. You have problems with understanding and respecting others boundaries (I just keep seeing an image of you holding onto a person, with strong grip, as they struggle to push you off). Instead of making ppl feel free and relaxed around you, you could make them feel uncomfortable.

Your a very book smart person. You have a fascination with unique things that most ppl would never think about and you come up with the most creative ideas. I think your more of a hoarder of knowledge and that you feel uncomfortable sharing your ideas with others, likely afraid they would laugh at you or say the idea is worthless. I feel like your not entirely moving forward with your life, your still haunted by your past. You could even recall voices of those who've insulted you or said very discouraging things to you and that can cause you to hesitate a lot in life.

I think this the ppl in this pile may be more sensitive and I want to make sure you don't feel hated or like I'm just another person confirming your own worst thoughts. I'm here to tell you to MOVE FORWARD in your life, don't let the haters win, don't hide yourself away. Prosper like the beautiful flower you are and always will be. 🌻

[bloodyinkandquill]

Rocket and sibling Reader

ok it is a full week since i last worked on any of these, lets try and get like three done and post them all, we got rocket and singling reader first coolio, ok technically we have shuriken x knife reader then toxic yuri reader x scythe but i have no clue what to do for the shuriken x knife reader imma reach out to the requester if they didn’t request on anon and ill do the scythe after this because i kin rocket so i wanna do this first, even if i self ship with scythe

- Even if Pokémon doesn’t exist in the world of Phighting you and your brother are straight up Team Rocket Jessie and James, one of you spawned, hung around the spawn building for a little while when suddenly ‘you have a sibling here you go’

haven’t worked on this since the 21st it’s the 15th now, ok let’s do this shit i’ve got kesha playing for motivation it’s only 10:30 i got this… let me read his wiki real quick so this is as accurate as possible, alright let’s do this, chappell roan decided to play but im not complaining about good luck babe

- Even thought one of you is older by a few months, maybe a year at most, you just decide to say you’re twins, sharing a spawn day even if legally that is not your spawning day, while still in the spawn building’s care you get each other a small but heartfelt gift, either stolen, bought with stolen money, or hand made, you both kept every gift

- You both had explosive and dangerous gears, and with how violent Playground is you both end up angry and in a lot of fights, but the only demon either of you let your guard down around is each other, dressing the others knuckles with stolen gauze as they either boast about the fight they just won or grumble that they didn’t even try

- Since unless you’re both in private you don’t let your guards down if either of you wanna discretely say ‘I’m here’ you softly bump horns, almost in a pavlovian fashion both of you instantly calm down some

- You two only really had each other so you both were very clingy to each other, falling asleep in whatever shelter you could cuddling to conserve warmth, and it makes it easier to protect each other in case someone stumbles upon you two, usually thought you would take turns sleeping and the other would keep watch, Playground is fucking dangerous so neither of you felt too comfortable both sleeping at the same time, especially when you had no home, just abandoned buildings or dark forgotten alleyways

- Rocket is a bit more reckless than you, so you on probably four, maybe five separate occasions had to grab him and book it, a wrongly timed and placed rocket and people were chasing you wanting you dead, he’d laugh maniacally and you would join him, once you two were somewhere safe that is, but if you got hurt because of him he’d feel like shit, if it was bad he might even cry and beg for you to forgive him, but you could never stay mad at your brother, after all you only had each other

- When the incident happened that cost him an arm and a leg you weren’t spared, coming out with your own bad injuries too, you both knew, you had to get out of this place, it was too dangerous and you couldn’t loose each other, so you left once and for all, vowing to never come back

- -Skip to after Zuka adopts you i’ve wrote how i think that went down before for a creative writing assignment i don’t wanna do it again sue me

- You slowly began to relax, Zuka gaining your trusts slowly but steadily, giving you what you needed, space, a shoulder to lean on, a trip to a rage room, whatever, overtime you both calmed down more, redirecting your anger to pyromania, ok maybe not the best but fire and explosions were fun!

- One day Zuka called to you that you had guests, when you went to the living room the last thing you expected to see was a deity but his son was chill, the three of you got along great, slowly becoming amazing friends, when he recounted a time two years ago he dyed his horns green to match his dad it gave Rocket an idea

- From that day onwards Rocket had you or Sword help him carve his horns to look more like your adoptive father, you’d chat, gossip, smack talk, and bicker while shaving down the extra parts on your bother’s horns, it was during one of these monthly times that you jokingly suggested maybe you two could become phighters, fast forward two months later you were sneaking out to go sign up for the next phight, Zuka wouldn’t approve so it was easier to ask for forgiveness then to ask for permission

- Even as you two changed your relationship never really did, you two stayed incredibly close, still pretending you were twins and even if you were no longer alone you both knew you could rely on each other to hell and back

coolio hope this is good lemme work on the next one, it’s 11 if i keep up with this pace i’ll have the three finished before midnight then i can do the final request(s?) tomorrow morning since i’ve got classes

[dreamdaddydutch]

could you pls do a javier/arthur/charles/whoever you want x reader flinching away from them thinking they’re gonna hurt them when they’re in an argument? sorry this is a super touchy subject i completely understand if you don’t wanna do it 🙏🙏❤️

Hey, so this took me a sweet age to write! I started about two months ago but with my job, planning my trip to NZ, and comedy/the shows I promote and sorting out festival stuff - I've just been completely exhausted and had no time or energy to write :(

But I have finished this now, and am still around - hoping to get a few more things written in the coming month or two.

I decided only to do Javier, Arthur & Charles as it is quite a sensitive topic and I worried any more and it would start to sound samey. I hope this is okay! ❤️ I struggled a bit for using content warnings on this as there is no physical violence happening or mental abuse - it's just heated arguments. But if you know this is going to affect you please do not read.

Javier

Arguments with Javier were rare, but with the increased pressure among the gang they had become more frequent and heated. You knew the immense pressure Javier felt and how he was trying to hold everyone together, how he wanted to believe things would work out. Sometimes you just got in one another’s way.

It was an incredibly hot afternoon at Shady Belle, everyone was irritated, sweating, bitten by mosquitos and fed up. You’re not really sure how the argument started but within minutes the two of you were at one another’s throats shouting insults neither of you meant.

Micah was nearby laughing at you, only making the situation worse.

When you reached the peak of the argument Javier suddenly lurched forward, his fists clenched. You stop and freeze completely still, mouth open just a little to let the fearful yelp escape and you feel your body tense, please…you think…please not him too.

You screw your eyes shut and wait for the blow that never comes. Instead, you hear Javier sigh loudly before the rage took over and he let out a scream – his anguish clear.

As you open your eyes you find him facing away from you, hands in his hair desperately clutching at his head, completely exasperated.

“Javier?” You ask softly as you reach out to him, too afraid to touch him in case he reacts violently.

When he turns, he has tears in his eyes, not something you’ve seen before. Javier has never cried in front of you, but now he’s here, vulnerable, and open, “I could never, I would never,” he says.

You nod, you know he’s telling the truth. He would never hurt you. You hate what this place, what everything is doing to the two of you right now.

You take another step and wrap your arms around him, no words are needed. Life is tough, being in the gang right now is tough. Everyone is on edge, everyone wants to beat the shit out of someone, to scream, destroy, fuck, drink their way through this. Javier is no exception and neither are you.

As you hold one another he continues to apologise, his words barely audible but it’s clear how much this is hurting. True he had frightened you, knowing what Javier is capable of for a moment you really believed he could do it.

When you pull away Javier kisses you, there’s need dripping from him. He knows anger isn’t the solution but he needs to be with you alone, even if for one night. As if reading his mind you say, “There’s other ways we can let out our pent up frustration you know…”

Arthur

“How, how did you manage to fuck this up again!” Arthur shouts at you.

You don’t know how to answer him, he’s right of course. You have fucked up again and what you’d been asked to do couldn’t have been simpler and yet here you were, a complete failure and you’d let the one person you love, one person you trust down.

“I’m sorry Arthur, I didn’t…I know I fucked up.” You reply through sobs.

Arthur is exhausted, everyone at Beaver Hollow is exhausted. Being alive right now is exhausting, but at least you’re alive. Emotions though they still run high.

When Arthur doesn’t respond and just continues to pace up and down you cannot bare the silence, the anger in his voice, in his movements and body language is unbearable to be around. You’d rather he shouted and told you to leave, rather he did something, anything than continue to stew in the silence.

He turned to you then, red in the face and suddenly he seemed so much bigger, so much taller, broad…He seemed like a giant in comparison to you, Arthur had always been big but it was only now you noticed it and realised how easily he could break you in half. How his presence, his shadow dominated you. As he loomed over you, practically frothing at the mouth with rage, eyes bloodshot and crazed, his breaths hard and shallow you were sure he was going to go in for the kill.

You inhaled sharply and held your breath waiting for him to lash out, to hit or slap you, to kick you…something to get his frustration out. His fists were clenched, his body taunt and ready to release all that tension.

You screamed as Arthur moved and braced yourself for the impact.

Which didn’t come.

Arthur punched to the side of your head…quite far from your head in fact, so far he couldn’t have possibly ever meant to have hit you. His fist went through the flimsy wall of the hut behind you. And then he stayed like that without removing his fist.

For a moment you thought he may cry, he didn’t.

“Ahh hell.”

Arthur seems ashamed of himself in that moment; his head hangs heavy.

“I’m sorry, okay, I..I just need some time. You know,” he pauses choosing his words carefully, “the fist was never meant for you.”

You nod, “S’ok Arthur, come find me when you need me.”

He looked up, slowly removing his fist from the hut. The smile he offered was both small and sad, “I won’t be long.”

Charles

Charles stormed into the hotel room, immediately you felt irritated. This was supposed to be a nice night away for the two of you, away from the others and all the noise at camp.

But Charles had found something to be annoyed at, something to be irritated with and now that peace was shattered.

“Charles, please.” You’d pleaded. It wasn’t like Charles to be like this, he was usually so stoic and easy to get along with, rarely showing any extreme emotions so this was different, even by his standards.

He squared up to you, his chest practically puffed out and shoulders tensed. He looked bigger than ever. Usually this was something you loved about him and it made you feel safe. You thought of all the times he picked you up with ease, could carry you, make love to you…all while holding you and you with your legs wrapped round his waist.

But now he is imposing, his presence is a shadow…you shut your eyes waiting for something and flinch as you hear the floorboards creak when you

“Did you think?” He looks wounded as he speaks, shame flushed across his cheeks as he shakes his head. Charles appears disappointed in himself; he’s aware of how he was behaving and what impact this had on you.

“I’m so sorry y/n you know I’d never do a thing to hurt you don’t you?”

You nod, not just because he’s speaking in earnest and you detect no lies in his words, but because you know him sometimes better than he knows himself.

He pulls you to the bed and sits down next to you, his presence a comfortable weight that sinks in the mattress. He sighs heavy and places a hand on your thigh, “I am, I mean it.” He pauses, “I can’t believe I allowed myself to get that worked up, something is so wrong.” When he sighed you could see the weight on his shoulders.

A lot was wrong with the gang and everything you’d all been through together.

“But it’s not an excuse, I should never speak to you like that or behave like that.”

“It’s okay Charles,” you were still blinking back tears, but when Charles put his hand on your knee and gently squeezed and rested his head on your shoulder the healing begun.

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗦𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗔𝗟 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗦 - part seven charles leclerc  x  fem! driver! reader (angst) “… forgetting is troublesome especially when you used to be enemies.”

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It was certainly a miserable feeling. Waking up alone when you have become so used to the man you shared a bed with everywhere you went. Muffled sobs echoed in the room no matter how much you tried to cover your mouth or quiet down. You didn't want to wake up.

You'd been jolted out of your sleep, skin drenched in cold sweat. You couldn't get the image out of your head nor get your sobs to silence as you quietly walked through the room to the washroom where the locked door would cut out any noise to protect the sleep of the Monégasque on the queen sized bed.

"is he going to be okay? i—is he going to be okay? . . . please talk to me. please tell me he's going to be okay." you sobbed in your hands as you waited in the pitlane, the rain pattering on your helmet as you sobbed in your palm.

you wouldn't have been alone had Jules been here to comfort you. The vivid memory of watching him crash out at only your third ever grand prix was horrifying. Especially after starting your short lived friendship.

But that wasn't all.

"are you okay? y/n? y/n, are you there? can you hear me? it was all to hazy. was the sky grass? or were you upside down? everything was blurry and muffled, your body was numb, and your throat was sore. "y/n, you copy?" "i'm— i'm just going to take a little nap." your hushed voice promised over the radio as you pulled your glove off to reach up, or apparently down, to touch the grass.

After being demoted mid season in 2016, to make space for Max verstappen at red bull, you were scrambled to say the least. Sauber was not the best to you in 2017. Neither was Ferrari in 2018. The post redbull struggle was real.

Even more than ever after your crash at the Mexico gp during fp1. You were sent to the hospital with a brain injury, a few fractured ribs and fractured ankle. You remember how everyone was sure you were done for. You couldn't stand on your own, more or less even hold a glass of water without violently shaking.

What ticked you off the most was you remember seeing Charles' Sauber in your side mirrors before colliding with the wall.

You traced the surgery scar on your ankle as you sat on the floor, biting on a towel to mute the cries. Your attempts to stay quiet were all in vain. Charles was up from the moment he heard you shuffling in your sleep on the couch. He'd followed you to the bathroom after you shut the door.

He wanted to comfort you. To hold you again. "I wish everything could just go back to the way it was." His heart clenched hearing your words, leaning his head on the door tired. "Why can't you just come back. I don't want to be here. This is wrong."

"Every fucking time!" You slammed your hands on the steering wheel. "Fuck I hate this." "Alright Y/N, cool down."

"FUCK! FUCK!" With a rough tug and an angry scream, you slammed the steering wheel on the asphalt. "I HATE THIS, I HATE THIS, I HATE THIS. FUCK FUCK FUCK!" "It's a red flag—" "OH REALLY? REALLY?! I WOULD'VE NEVER GUESSED."

With a quick and angry tug you pulled your gloves off and climbed out the car. You kicked the tire that had not been drilled in well and had caused you to spin out on turn 9, copse corner.

Wrestling with your helmet, you pull it off, drop kicking it in anger. You wanted to throw glass, slam a vase, rip paper, break something, anything. Your blood was boiling and you were going to snap at any moment.

You didn't return to the garage. Heading straight for the motorhome, your dad joined you on the walk back. "Non hai notato la gomma? Avresti potuto dirglielo." [you didn't notice the tire? you could've told them] "stavo tornando alla fossa. non sarei riuscito a uscire da quell'angolo." [i was on my way back to pit. i wasn't going to make it out of that corner]

"vai a prendere le tue cose così possiamo andarcene." [just go get your things so we can leave] You complied with a huff, stomping out of your driver's room after stuffing all of your stuff in a bag. "Y/N." Looking up to see Charles. Of course you would. "Où vas-tu?" [where are you going]

"Leave us." Your father pulled you away from your bicep, dragging you along from your bicep. You looked back only to see Charles' disappointed face. You tried to turn around and reach out to him only to be tugged back.

The ride back was quiet. Your dad made you stay with him at his hotel till your flight. You sat at the window while he argued with someone in Spanish, probably your mother. A deep sigh escaped your lips as you hugged your legs, leaning your chin on your knees.

You were regretting this; calling in your father, letting him be in control. But he was your father, and it was your mistake calling him in. No matter how much you wanted to go back to Charles.

You were beginning to learn how much you loved him, how much you needed him. You wanted him to hold you and kiss you the way he does.

"It's you, Carl." Your hushed voice was weak and hoars. Charles who had been sitting on a chair against the wall had rushed to your side immediately. "Why are you crying? Your ruining your pretty eyes." Safe to say the anaesthetic was doing it's job. You gently ran the back of your finger on Charles ( or Carl as you thought he was ) 's cheek, wiping his tears. "How come you always find me?" You giggled weakly. Charles held your hand gently, leaning his forehead on your knuckles. "I know someone who has that same exact shirt. I had one as well." You pointed at his top, the Sauber logo with the sponsors filling in the empty space. "His name is Charles. He's really pretty. But a pain in my ass." "Pretty?" Charles chuckled weakly, wiping the fresh tears. "Yeah. He has beautiful eyes . . . kind of like your eyes. But I promise you have the prettier ones." "Do you . . . like Charles?" "No. I like you."

You closed your eyes with a short sigh. The memories were becoming more frequent. You could almost put puzzle pieces together, string out the story. But you weren't becoming any more . . . normal. You didn't even know what was normal at this point, but you wanted to be the 25 year-old woman everyone thought you were.

This . . . "you", she needed to leave. You were causing way too many problems. With your team, with your husband, with your family, yourself as well. It just wasn't right.

"Voglio prendermi il resto della stagione libera." [i want to take the rest of the season off] You called through the room. "continua a sognare." [keep dreaming]

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Regret regret regret, you felt as you walked through the airport. You wanted to dump your dad. You were pretty sure you could easily find Max ( cause who doesn't paint their private jet team colours and put their lion logo on the jet's tail? )

But you couldn't just leave your dad like that. No matter how much he was unlikable or how much you wanted to go back to your husband, he was still your father. You respected him ( to a certain level ) and feared him. Maybe 25 year-old you could. Maybe you were just a coward.

Maybe? You are.

"I wanna go home, to Monaco." "non essere un bambino, that's not your home." [don't be a baby] You groaned. How much more can you take?

You tucked your hands under your armpits as the plane took off, bracing yourself with shaky breaths.

"We're gonna fall— we're gonna—" "Hey hey, we're okay." Charles held your hand, kissing your knuckles. "We're flying. We're going home." He assured you with his charming smile. He pulled your head to lay on his shoulder, kissing your temple. A laugh rocked through his chest as you gripped onto him for dear life. "Oh, amour." [love]

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Its five in the morning, who's knock-" To say your younger brother in law, Arthur, was surprised and confused to see you at his door with a awkward smile was understandable, especially since your family and Charles had been looking for you around the planet for the past two hours.

"Sorry, I need a place to hide."

[who-knew-a-sheep-can-write]

Struggles: Bigby Wolf x Deputy!Reader

Despite that it had happened centuries ago, the problem always seemed to manifest itself and show the ugly side to the situation. Even centuries of forcing it away, snuffing out his senses with cheap cigarettes that burn his nose dry to the point of bleeding and alcohol that does nothing but numb his mind to the whispers and taunts of what laid inside if him, Bigby never really showed his struggle with what was inside of him.

You had only heard of him losing his mind and going complete ape shit during the whole Crooked Man ordeal, when bloody Mary and the Tweedles ganged up on him in an alley by the Puddin’ & Pie. That had resulted in the death of one of the twins, you couldn’t remember which one nor did you really care.

But he had always been kept on a very tight, very short leash ever since you had all been forced from your homes. It was tough for him, agonizing as he had to learn what it was like to be… well, what he is now.

It was a mistake, you had heard Cole say to Snow as you came to drop off some paperwork. You honestly had no idea how Bigby had came to be what he is today, you had assumed it was just another glamour that most Fables had to get. But to your shock, you listened in by the closed door.

‘I’m starting to doubt that the werewolf blood in Bigby’s system is not a good idea anymore,’ King Cole had said.

You narrowed your eyes and held the folder closer to you. You had decided enough was enough and you would ask Bigby what they meant by it. They said nothing when you knocked and walked in like you never heard anything.

But even as you stood in Bigby’s apartment, he lit up a cigarette and laid against the cushions of his chair.

“In order for me to become Sheriff here, King Cole and Snow made a plan to stab me with a blade covered in werewolf’s blood so I wouldn’t need a glamour.”

“And that’s why you have those other forms?”

He nodded, puffing out a cloud of smoke.

That conversation sat in the back of your mind since then. But now, it seemed to haunt you. Both of you, really.

You both were starting to learn that Bigby, in fact, needed a glamour and not fucking blood in his system and whatever shit witches gave to Cole and Snow hundreds of years ago.

Bigby had told you that when it first happened, it only really started out with anger and fits of rage, times he would black out and wake up in the woods naked. And then as time progressed, he slowly was able to control himself and resist his urges, however, he was made a slave to the full moon every month until he was able to resist that too.

But now, neither of you know why it’s starting to happen, but Bigby was starting to react to the full moons once more. It was just minor changes at first, neither of you noticed until Snow had walked in with a call. Bigby’s teeth had a point to them, sharper than usual.

The next full moon, his facial hair had seemed to grow in thicker. Bigby usually shaves twice a day - once when he wakes up and once before he passes out - but despite just shaving nearly three hours ago, you had arrived back to work to see him scratching at thick and dark stubble.

The next full moon, his arms and chest had followed suit with his facial hair, set thicker and longer.

Then his temper had flared up the next full moon. It nearly turned violent when Bluebeard decided it would be a good idea to tempt fate and poke a sleeping bear… well, in this case, it would be a wolf. Bigby had him by the collar of his shirt, snarling, wolfish features quickly and easily sprouting without a second thought.

And now, you stood outside his door, wondering if you should really be here right now. You knew he was in there, Snow had told you so when you came back to the office to see it was locked up with Bigby nowhere to be seen.

Should you really be here? He probably wants to be left alone…

You could spot the lights were on under the door and you could hear him lumber around his apartment building, cursing to himself and groaning.

But he was your partner, and you knew he knew you were out here. If he didn’t want you here, he would have made that apparent by now.

You raised a hand to knock on the door, shocking yourself when you found it unlocked and slowly opening upon each knock. You slowly pushed it open further, poking your head into his apartment.

Your body chilled. For once, it didn’t overwhelmingly smell of cigarette smoke and alcohol like it did the last few full moons, but it smelled cleaner… at least as clean as it could be. Bigby was not in his living room nor the bathroom when you peered over to the door, and rarely did Bigby ever go to his bedroom.

All that was left was the kitchen.

You slowly opened the door just enough to slip through, eyeing the kitchen through the archway to still as you saw him standing there.

Broad back to you, hulking weight barely contained by the tight clothing from earlier, you could spy a mixture of ash and russet hair poking above the collar of his shirt as well as what was exposed of his forearms and hands. His shoes had been ditched by the kitchen archway, you spied his feet had now become very hair with long black claws at the end of each toe.

“Bigby?”

He barely turned his head to look at you over his shoulder in acknowledgment, softly gasping when his acidic yellow eyes practically froze you in place from where you stood in his living room. Even in their majestic beauty, you could still feel the tension radiating off of him. He was a dangerous man when pushed far enough, but you knew - despite the werewolf blood coursing through his veins - that he was struggling to stay Bigby.

[aita-polls]

WIBTA for telling my girlfriend I cheated?

Okay so this is probably going to be a lot. People involved are me (24F), my girlfriend M (25F), our best friend A (22M), and our other best friend, A’s boyfriend, S (20M).

So. For background, we’ve all been friends for years and it was very much the four of us against the world. I met M first because we were roommates at college, and she knew A and S from our classes, who were already dating at the time, and introduced us. I’m a lesbian, S is gay, and M and A are bi. We’ve always been a very openly affectionate and sometimes sexual friend group, ignoring the fact that me and S never did anything because of our incompatible genders/sexualities. No one had sex outside of our partners, but we were definitely much more close than most friends, and casual making out etc. was a thing that happened between me, A and M quite often. It was always while we were in a group, never alone or without anyone’s knowledge. I was never attracted to A, again I’m a lesbian, but due to a mixture of just naturally lax boundaries and sexual trauma I don’t really see sex or sexual activity as anything sacred or meaningful so I didn’t mind messing around with A in that way for fun. We never explicitly said not to do anything alone, but we never said it was okay either, it was just never really a situation that came up.

So. This is where it becomes a lot. At the beginning of 2024 S was murdered. A and I found his body. The legal stuff is still ongoing obviously but the person responsible was caught. It was violent, random, and completely unprovoked. S was the kindest person any of us had ever known. None of us coped with this well. We’ve all always been very impulsive, emotional people, S was kind of the token responsible guy keeping us (occasionally) grounded even though honestly more often we were convincing him to join us instead 🥲

We all responded in different ways but none of them were good. A was a complete mess exacerbated by the fact that the last time he and S had spoken it had been an argument. I was just angry at the world and the only time I wasn’t sobbing or yelling I was drunk or high. M essentially vanished off the face of the earth for a month and ghosted us and didn’t talk to us at all.

I’m not going to offer excuses for what happened. I could say we were messed up, I could say I felt abandoned by M or assumed she’d left me, I could say we were coping, but none of that matters because what matters is A and I slept together. This was about 5 weeks after S’s death and M’s disappearance. It was very abrupt, kind of impersonal, and sort of just. “I need to do something and you’re the person here” vibes. I obviously was not actually attracted to him as a man, but I just didn’t care who it was in that moment and I gather neither did he. I had followed him into a sort of out of the way campus building people don’t use much because he was very fired up and upset, we talked about S and M and how fucking devastating and enraging it all was, he just grabbed me, and it went from there. We were both very dissociated throughout it and agreed it wouldn’t happen again.

A few days after this, M got back in contact. She apologized for disappearing and said she was coping in her own way and needed isolation but that it wasn’t fair to us. She said she wanted us all to put everything that had happened since S’s death behind us and not talk about it because she assumed we had all done things we weren’t proud of in grief and that she didn’t want us to dwell on them. She just wanted us to heal together and stick together from now on.

We agreed but I felt fucking awful. I spoke to A about it after this and it was complicated further by him admitting that he had been attracted to me since the day we met and that this was part of how fucked up his emotions felt because he was full of guilt both for feeling that way and for arguing with S before he died. He said S had been aware of him wanting me and had been relatively fine with it but that it wasn’t an outright crush, he didn’t have romantic feelings for me, it was just physical attraction paired with us being close friends and him trusting me. I reaffirmed that I’m a lesbian and am not genuinely attracted to him like that and that I love M and want to be with her, and he said he completely understood and that he was still in love with S. We both agreed it had been a grief thing for us and only happened as a result of our mindsets and emotional states in that moment.

However I still feel horrifically guilty for not telling M. Part of me thinks she’s guessed something happened and that’s part of why she said to forget anything we’ve done, but I don’t know if that’s just wishful thinking to weasel my way out of confronting it. A very firmly believes I shouldn’t tell her both because of her wishes and because he thinks since it didn’t mean anything it would ruin our relationship for nothing. But I still feel that it was a huge betrayal and that my confusion at her disappearing and my grief doesn’t just mean I get to pretend it didn’t happen.

Everything is still so fresh and we’re still trying to cope, and we haven’t even gotten to the trial and facing him yet. Sometimes I almost go to tell her and it feels like she knows and changes the subject so we never get the chance. But I don’t know if I’m just making things up. Would it be a bad idea to keep pushing and just sit her down and tell her straight up, should I wait until we’ve all moved on a little more, or should I just shut up about it forever?

[inklessletter]

any sexy steddie headcanons you'd like to share?

Hi anon!

Uf, this question.

Okay.

I've got tons of sexy headcanons but I've got a problem, and that is that I have no "general" hc. What I do have is (a problem) a great number of AUs that has certain hedcanons attached to them. Those hc could actually contradict another hc from another AU of mine.

But since you asked, and for a sexy one (I'm going to understand "sexy" as sexual related) here's one for you that has been haunting me for a while.

(Also, please, if you're reading this and wanna play, you know what to do!)

In this AU they both have an insane level of internalized homophobia and a whole shit ton of issues to work on that are all related to the fact that they're both feeling insanely attracted to each other.

Well in this AU I personaly hc Steve a bit more comfortable than Eddie, maybe because he's got Robin to talk about it. So he gets to eventually accept that maybe he likes Eddie, and he feels attracted to him. I hc Steve as the kind of guy who knows shit about names and labels, just knows Eddie is hot and he forgets to breathe whenever he finds him staring. And it's annoying because from Steve's perspective, Eddie is annoyingly straight. He never mentions anything vaguely queer, or of something comes up he changes the subject, which leads Steve to think that this is just a dead end crush.

But they grow closer and more confident and they start talking about sex. With girls, of course. And somehow, well, they both agree that it would be cool to be part of a threesome. It soon becomes a running joke, until at some party, they actually have the chance to team up to fuck a girl.

And it's weird, they're both nervous about it because the boundaries are very much undernegotiated, it's not like they talked about it. They're in a locked up messy room and there's a vaguely familiar girl between them, turning to one to kiss him stupid, and then to the other one, and neither Steve or Eddie can't take their eyes off of the other. Feeling Eddie's eyes on him while his tongue is deep inside some girl's throat is doing wonders in his pants.

They stick to the girl, though. It's awkward and hot the way they "accidentally" touch each other hads, or press their thighs together when the girl is on her knees blowing them off, taking turns, making ther prettiest noises, but it's Eddie's feather touch what feels electric.

There's this moment in which they both look at each other and are about to kiss, but neither of them actually is brave enough to do so. The end up that first night with the girl between them, all on fours, Eddie fucking her cunt, and Steve fucking her mouth. Both facing each other, not able to look away from the other's eyes.

They don't kiss, but when the girl's moaning are loud and slippery and uncontrollable, Steve says, not tearing his eyes apart from Eddie, "yeah, that's it. Cum for me, baby girl," and, of course, Eddie cums violently like on command.

They do that more times, each time surpassing a slight boundary. They kind of turn it into a healthy competition about who could make the girl come faster. They normalize it. They seek it.

There's this time, Steve's messily making out with a girl, hands grabbing her breasts, her butt, dry humping like there's no tomorrow. Eddie kisses her neck from behind and whispers, low and raspy, "you like it, don't you? The way my friend is fucking your mouth with his tongue, all yours. You could come just from this, couldn't you? I bet you could, I bet he could do that, just using his mouth. Aren't you my lucky girl?", while unbuttoning her jeans and sticking a hand under her ruined underwear to finger her. Steve's eyes rolled to the back of his skull when he felt Eddie's hand. He came one minute later.

There's this other time, in which both Steve and Eddie were sucking on this girl's nipples, and their faces were so close, they could feel the heat coming from their cheeks. They could taste their breaths. Steve started moaning, soft, experimentally, testing the waters. Eddie eventually grabbed the back of his neck and Steve thought "this is it, he's gonna kiss me", but made Steve change the nipple he was sucking on. Steve tasted Eddie's saliva for the first time on some girl's tit.

And the time that settled everything was this other time. Steve was fucking this girl, thrusting her, rhythmically, not missing a beat that was making her moan. He was sitting at the edge of the bed, and the girl's back was against his chest. Eddie kneeled between them and started lapping on the girl's cunt, eating her out like a starved man. At some point Eddie thinks "fuck it", and downs himself a bit and starts licking on Steve's balls, which makes him freeze his movements, and the most embarrasing sound escapes his throat. Eddie takes that as a compliment. Holding the girl in place and moving inside her ever so slightly, Steve becomes a trembling, stuttering mess feeling Eddie's mouth on him. Again, that boosts Eddie's ego, who puts a hand under Steve's thighs and push them both against the bed, now Steve and the girl facing the ceiling. She starts moving, but Steve's frozen. Eddie keeps his legs apart and up, all exposed, and Steve has no time to feel shy because Eddie's tongue is on his hole and he has lost any bit of control. The girl eventually comes and keeps touching herself watching the most amazing show first row. Eddie fingers him, and Steve comes with Eddie's name on his lips. Eddie comes a minute after all over Steve's stomach.

They hadn't even kissed.

That changed after that.

Well that was hot to write.

[sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee]

cute scenario that came to mind, Killer croc making pals with the reader during one of his stays in prison. They’re like in a cell right next to him but end up striking conversation with Waylon out of boredom, where they hit it off from there as the reader talks to him like any old Joe even knowing who he is. The reader being a surprisingly down to earth sorta person with a way of looking at the silver lining, who never really reveals why they’re in prison in the first place besides “Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.”

sorry if this is too much😅feel free to ignore

"Sharing is caring" Killer Croc x Reader

Don't even worry about being too much! I've just been busy with life stuff which... congrats to me I got one of the highest scores on the final in class. Which. Granted it was only a 75 but that gives you an idea of how stressful this class was. And then scarecrow stuff I was working on and was really excited to show everyone. You're good!

TW: discussions of violence

When they'd first been put in Arkham Asylum for a series of terrible and stupid choices, they expected things to go south very quickly. For fucks sake, most in the criminal world knew the story of Warren White becoming Great White Shark in Arkham.

The new person. The "crazies" at Arkham and how violent they could be. By a stroke of pure luck, they managed to arrive at a time that cells were not shared due to a lack of space. No one to try and stab them in the middle of the night.

Yet their neighbor... They'd heard about Killer Croc. Crimes and atrocities committed. Some said he was trying to turn a new leaf. Didn't stop him from ended up here again.

When the new inmate found themselves bored and understimulated one night during lockup, they managed a small whisper to Mr. Jones. Asking if it's always so, so deathly quiet.

"Nah, usually it's a fuckin' laugh riot. Can't get any sleep."

"So you're sleeping now?"

"What do you think, smart ass?"

It was an exchange that could have gone poorly. Yet they ended up talking until they both fell asleep. They'd wave to one another in passing. More conversations to keep the darkness and the silence away. Then when other more famous rogues came to the facility, it was to block out the hum and buzz of disturbances in the night.

Neither of them spoke to why they were there. It wasn't really needed. There were brief comments here and there about being stupid or violent acts. Both of them on medication to attempt to soothe their minds.

Mostly they spoke about their lives surrounding the criminal. His mother and their path to making up. His grandparents and the sprawling property they sat on. Swamps and weeping willow trees. The new inmate shared personal details of their own. Bonding.

By the time an appeal got turned over this way and that and the newbie was given the chance to leave, they'd become quite close. Talked through wounds Jones was given by guards due to his "dangerous" nature and the electrified collar he was forced to wear. Advice on how to knock a man's teeth back into his throat if he got creepy or too aggressive for the newbie. A silent but obvious vow of protection and vengeance should something happen to one of them.

Waylon was quiet when it was time for them to go. Refused to say goodbye at this point.

"I'm gonna see you later, don't act all sad. Just stop doin' stupid shit and I'll see you." A promise.

Life outside of Arkham was going to get very interesting once the both of them were out...

[jacevelaryonswife]

Our Duties

pairing: Lucerys Velaryon x Fem!Reader

a/n: I try to make my stories/headcanons interactive to the fullest (as far as possible). I not detail reader’s appearance and english is not my first language. Why tumblr is fucking my gif’s quality?

warnings: curse words, fluffy, slight angst, happy ending.

Leaving the Dragonstone hall, you hurried through the grey and unwelcoming corridors of the castle until you reached a far, dark corner. Your scream was loud before and after punching the rock wall in front of your, allowing yourself to cry violently. Your longtime bridegroom was dead. Not missing or injured. Dead. And there was nothing that could be done about your condition.

The truth is that you weren't crying for the grief or the pain that quickly took your hand, but for the sad misfortune of finding another bridegroom. Your deceased suitor had left to fight at Stepstones three years ago, he was a good lad who would give you healthy children and a prosperous life — your mother's words. However, you never fully knew him. He was a soldier, not a husband, and would certainly (quite possibly) become unhappy with you as the years passed.

You didn't notice Prince Lucerys Velaryon across the hall, deeper than you. He watched the entire scene in silence, slightly frightened by your condition. That was one of his places to hide and shed a few tears, not as many as you shed now, but expressed it all the same. What you both didn't know was that, at that moment, fear was a mutual feeling.

"My lady." The young prince's voice was shaky, drawing your attention automatically. Your face was wet and he almost regretted interrupting your moment, because he didn't know how to proceed.

Oh no. By the seven, not that.

"My prince." Forcing yourself to collect, you swallowed back the tears and the strangled cry that broke your lips. You didn't want to stop crying. You just wanted him to go away and let your pain contaminate the environment.

Luke felt like a fool. He interrupted you and didn't know what to say. Gods, he was pathetic.

"Your hand. You hurt your hand.” He forced himself to say, eyes widening. “I wasn't spying. I…” That was definitely worse for both of them. He just wanted to sink to the ground and hide from your presence. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, my lady.” His eyes dropped to the floor.

He was a sweet boy. A puppy among dragons. You didn't mean to scold him before, and now, with his shy and tense demeanor, you fear that you scared him with your earlier scene. He has nothing to do with your problems, nor guilt, so you just wave in his direction.

"Thank you my prince." You noticed that he was crying too, but to a lesser extent. Poor boy. "Are you okay?" You voice came out soft.

“Y-yes, I’m fine.” He lowered his head, embarrassed.

You know that your next act was inappropriate and thoughtless, but you didn't spare the impulse that made you approach the prince to hug him. It took Lucerys a moment to reciprocate, not knowing if your intention was to bring comfort to yoursel or him— you didn't know either. At the end of the doubt, he returned your affectionate gesture with his head resting on your shoulder, letting out the breath he had been holding.

Time seemed to freeze for the moment, neither of you pulling away from each other. Sometimes the comfort of a stranger could be good.

“See you later, my prince.” You murmured as you pulled away, watching him wave with puppy dog ​​eyes.

Later, your tears were added to the bathwater. Your chest was tight and desperate thoughts roamed through your head. The palpable fear at family's decision to find another groom choked your mind. You shouldn't be like this, after all, that's what you were raised for: getting married and having children. It was your function, your only and exclusive function as a woman and lady wife. You weren't Princess Rhaenyra and you couldn't reach a male-dominated place.

“The choice of another bridegroom will also be in your hands.” Assured your mother that night, almost making your sigh of relief audible. Fuck! — in the good sense.

Though the smile you radiated was genuine, a little apprehensive, across the palace Prince Lucerys stood terrified and confused. How could he not be? How do you expect him to assume the title of Lord of the Tides if he never had experience? He's not a seaman, he doesn't know how life at sea works, he's not even a Velaryon. He will be completely devoured by the waves of Driftmark.

“It is your duty, brother. I know it might sound scary, but eventually you'll start to understand.” Jace had said a few days ago.

He didn't want to bother his family again, nor did he want to be a nuisance, so he took to taking walks at night to release his turmoil alone. Perhaps the sea surrounding Dragonstone could guide him properly. Luke hadn't noticed sneaky footsteps behind him, surprising himself with your voice almost cut off by the strong wind.

"I didn't know we had preferences for the same places." The young prince turned suddenly with wide, surprised eyes, earning a sweet smile. "I didn't mean to scare you, my prince." Your hair flew violently along with your dress, stopping just inches from him. "I'm sorry if I bothered you earlier and now."

"No, you didn't." His voice was low and meek, sad smile on his face. “I’m sorry about your bridegroom, my lady.”

"Thank you my prince. May I accompany you?”

He nodded.

The first steps were marked by a comfortable silence, just contemplating the dark sky and cold wind that made the night pleasant, but it didn't take long for you to start:

"It's a beautiful night, isn't it?"

“Yes, my lady.”

“You don't have to answer if you don't want to, my prince, but why were you crying earlier?” Your tone was low.

“It was nothing, my lady, don't worry.” He answered uncertainly, pinching his nose. "And and you?" When he realized the question, his voice cracked a little. "I'm sorry, that was a stupid question."

"No. It was not." Your gaze fell on the sea, imposing, violent and infinite. A true force of nature. “I wasn't just crying for him. I didn't even know I needed to cry like that, I didn't know there was so much sadness and fear in me, I just… needed to get it out a little. It's normal, sometimes we need to intentionally cry.”

Your confession was true, contained in certain parts, but true. A previously unknown part of you wished he could open up. You don't know why, but you feel like he needed to be heard. Feels like he wanted to be heard.

“I don't like to cry.” Lucerys answered.

“No one likes it, my prince, but we need it sometimes.”

“II was scared.” He initiated. "I still am." His head lowered. “If you needed to do something that you don't feel capable of doing, but it is your duty to do it, what would you do?”

Oh.

You think you understand the situation.

“Our duties were established without our consent, what would I say? Fuck the duties. What I would do? I would be reluctant to lower my head, but we know what the forces are like that command us and make us give in.” Your posture surprised him, drawing the young prince's wide blue eyes. “You may not feel prepared to command driftmark, but you still have time to learn, my prince. Why don't you travel to be tutored by Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys? You would learn from the best seaman that ever lived.”

“But I wouldn't be him.” He was quick to respond. “I will never be him.”

You let out a heavy breath, stopping to face him. “Yes, you will not be like him. I don't know how it feels, but I believe he'll do the best you can. Don't beat yourself up, my prince." Your smile was weak but sincere, being mirrored by him.

“Thank you, my lady.”

“Would you like to return?”

"No. Not now at least.”

Holding his forearm, your smile widened: “Well, I know a place among the mountains where the sky is clear and the stars are big, if you want to join me.”

With the shyest, sweetest smile you've ever seen, Prince Lucerys confirmed, following his trail through the mountains of Dragonstone in the moonlight.

For: @madame-fear ✨

[re-bon-bon-san]

Vox in Hazbin Hotel RadioStatic AU

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 Vox was frustrated. Extremely sexually frustrated.

Oh, who was he kidding. His feelings for Alastor ran much deeper than simply having the hots for him. But after ignoring it for so long and losing their friendship it had simply become too much.

And what better idea to fix your fucked up rivalry than by joining the Hazbin Hotel!?

What could go wrong?

Chapter 1 Welcome back (pesky feelings)

On the night when Vox had found out that Alastor had come back, he had laid in bed sideways, firmly hugging his blanket and fully awake, as strange realizations hit him. Val was at some sort of impromptu party. Probably banging the first guy he saw, he was sure. Not like Vox ever forbade him from doing that or even cared. His relationship with Valentino was strenuous most of the time anyway, making it open ended, which was making it easier. Especially because neither of them seemed in a hurry to commit. Certainly not when their entire business and integrity as overlords was on the line. But sometimes Vox regretted having met him. The constant arguments were getting on his nerves, Val’s tantrums and violent outbursts were only sometimes funny. Which was really strange, because Vox would say he was a pretty contained and in control man… But ever since the Radio Demon came back he had started acting exactly like Valentino did on a normal day. A volatile, hateful, violent man. And while it was probably true, he hadn’t gotten that heated since the last time he saw Alastor… It was all that man’s fault… he had ridiculed him, acted like there had been nothing between them at all, like it never mattered. Not like he would have acted less insulted being rejected, but he had to hurt his pride too and then run off.

Vox had calmed down, he had lived without him, he was focused more on business and influence and less on fighting. And yet now that Alastor was back and doing radio broadcasts, nothing of that even mattered anymore. It was like he could no longer be proud of his own work if Alastor as much as breathed in his direction. He wanted to prove himself, he wanted his acknowledgement, he wanted Alastor’s downfall! Did he want that? … That guy was an asshole, and yet he had missed him tremendously. All these long years of friendship, thrown out the window after one argument. All those times hanging out, bonding over their ideas and visions… laughing together, all the different restaurants they had visited in hell, all the different tailors. All of that… he wanted all of it… back. Vox laid his face flat on the bed and put the pillow over it, to block everything around him out. A shame it couldn’t block out his neverending, increasingly gayer getting thoughts.

He missed his voice, he missed his shenanigans, his face, his antics, his opinions, his everything, him. Not even the anger of their previous argument could overshadow it. Oh, who was he kidding! It had all always been about him. He had been inspired by him, he had admired him and it was Vox’s arrogance that had ruined it all. Alastor didn’t even have to try and he had still outdone him easily, making Vox cause a huge blackout.

It had no damn business being that hot .

Vox blamed it on having spent so many years with him for growing sentimental. He was still angry and hurt of course. But the way into the Radio Demon’s heart could not be won by those pathetic displays…

Wait… heart?

Vox groaned and gave up on sleep. He stood up groggily, pouring himself some whiskey with ice, as he lit up an LED lamp by simply ordering it to and fished out his phone…

He listened to the Radio Demon’s last broadcast. Cheery jazz music with screams of defeated overlords in the background. Warm nostalgia filled his heart and he took a big sip as he felt the nice burn of liquor make it down to his stomach. Alastor certainly knew how to elegantly demonstrate power. What was it that Vox wanted from him exactly? He couldn’t quite figure it out… If Alastor wasn’t as successful, handsome, charming and powerful Vox wouldn’t even like him! Vox was much more popular and always stayed relevant and yet… in his mind there was no one greater than this enigmatic man. More gulps followed and the Radio Demon’s velvety voice gently commented on his last song selection, having no damn business sounding so seductive.

Vox, of course, had listened to ALL of his broadcasts. Had started as a habit probably that he could not stop, then evolved into an outright addiction and now he did it to find out which new overlord had been sacked. Of course, that was all there was to it… if he felt shivers run down his back at the sound of Alastor’s voice, he paid it no mind.

His thoughts were very confusing… he needed to find out more about Alastor, where he had been for 7 years, what his plans were and whether he would be a threat to his further operations. How he could provoke him, engage with him, give him all of his attention- Yes, the radio broadcasts were helping to get him back into his old mindset when it was all fine again, the added relaxation and melancholic fondness he felt were only caused by the music, surely. 

How long had they been friends, before it had suddenly all ended one awful day? 40 years? 50 years? 

And Alastor wanted nothing to do with him, like it had all been nothing? He disappeared, making him worry his head off… Wondering if he was still alive, if it was his fault. Wanting to scream at him, wanting him back and to stay gone at the same time.

One thing was for sure, something had ignited in Vox the moment they started arguing. Something that had been buried deep and finally came out and had been festering, eating at him all these years. Why did it feel so good to be angry at Alastor? Why did he want to kick his ass and have the good old times back at the same time? His feelings and pride were hurt and yet there was angry heat in his chest, it was hard to breathe and his thoughts had been all occupied with him. And yet he felt relief.

Satan, how had he even survived these 7 years. Just barely, throwing himself into his work like a madman and having lots of distractions and connections on the side. Clearly… worth not as much, if now that Alastor was back it all seemed meaningless to him.

He finished his glass, unceremoniously pouring another one and scrolling on his phone.

Ah, there it was.

The only picture Alastor ever let another soul take of him. The only undistorted photo evidence of the man’s appearance. Vox should have been saddened by the photo of them posing together for this picture, but he could only smile. His fingers were slowly fondling his phone, moving over the picture as he took in the sight of the old photograph. Grayscale… but the day was ingrained in his memory.

More sips, more songs… he could almost picture it… sitting in Alastor’s studio like he had done before, seeing him work and in the evening they went to have dinner together. If Vox closed his eyes and just… yes, he picked the right moment, his voice came back to comment on another song and tell a short anecdote of his life… Vox felt so nice and warm, seeing Alastor in front of his inner eye, looking at him with his deep red shimmering eyes, whispering into his microphone.

And he tore his eyes wide open when he felt blood rush to his loins more quickly than he could stop himself. His first instinct was panic, the second was to blame it on the alcohol. And yet… he wanted more. He stared, open mouthed at Alastor’s picture, drinking in his sight, feeling way too hot and clouded. Oh, he felt so pathetic, but what he would GIVE to have the Radio Demon back. He was aching, pining... the heartache of the years catching up to him and his need grew even more persistent. “Fuck…”, Vox swallowed again, just like when Alastor had threatened him over the radio. He knew what Alastor did to his enemies… but couldn’t Alastor destroy him in … another way?

For the second time this evening Vox had given up on everything. His emotions were too confusing, he was too worked up and losing control. He was rock hard in his pants and Alastor’s broadcast, paired with his picture and the looming memories of him were quickly disarming him completely. Oh, he was SO glad Valentino was at a party, he didn’t need his judgment. Who the fuck needed Valentino when the Radio Demon existed? Vox bit his lip with a soft moan as he slipped a hand into his pants and pulled his member out of his pajama bottoms.

Just a quick, fucking wank and then he surely would have it out of his system… surely…

Like Alastor had been ‘out of his system’ after 7 years of absence.

He had enough sense to tell his smart lock to activate, he usually left his penthouse unlocked for Velvette or Valentino, but ooooh. Not tonight.

He quickly became breathless, panting softly as held the phone in one hand, listening to the voice vibrating through the device as his other hand glid over his dick.

He activated the phone’s bluetooth, to listen to the broadcast directly in his brain, almost as if Alastor was speaking directly into his ear.

He shivered, twitching hard in his own hand, looking over Alastor’s curves, the shapes of his arms, and legs, how his suit was made, his face, his soft fluffy ears.

He wanted to know how it all looked underneath, he knew how Alastor died and how scarred he was, yet it fascinated him. He wanted to run his hands over every scar, kiss and lick them. He wanted to feel his body against his, take him.

Oh, Alastor was a virgin, he was probably super tight and would whimper so sweetly. Precome gathered at Vox’s member as he jerked himself harder. He wanted to defeat Alastor, overpower him. He wanted Alastor to beg for forgiveness, beg for their friendship back, he wanted to tug on his antlers….

Who was he kidding? As if Alastor would ever sleep with him. Vox’s only chance was to try to be his friend again. 

If Alastor would at least hug him, hold him just once. Tell him how much he treasured all their years together.

Vox whined loudly and jizzed all over himself, squirming on the sofa, gaping like a fish out of water as his orgasm shook him to his very core.

He was lightheaded, he felt higher than on drugs, completely intoxicated. He cleaned himself on autopilot, turned off all devices, the lamp, finished his drink and walked, on extremely shaky legs back to bed, falling face first.

His entire body was vibrating, buzzing. It was all warm and tingly and sweet, almost bittersweet. So satisfied, so euphoric. He passed out in a blink, drifting off to sleep in a matter of minutes.

Vox really didn’t need the reminder on his phone that he had listened to Alastor’s broadcast before bed…

He had slept heavenly, sure, but that didn’t mean anything. He had a busy day and needed to get started.

As it was, the first thing that greeted him as he went to their shared living space was Valentino lounged all across the gigantic couch, barely dressed. He smelled like alcohol, perfume and sweat to a sickening degree. 

“Mnnhhh! Mornin’ Voxyyyy.”, he purred in a groggy voice.

Vox wasn’t sure you were supposed to feel disgust when you saw your boyfriend, but sometimes Valentino clashed a lot with his preferences. 

“I see you’ve had a productive evening, Val? Made any business deals?”

“No, hehe. But a couple friends!”, he swung his leg high, placing a heel on Vox’s chest. 

Vox flinched and then stared at it, carefully, almost reverently grabbing it and putting it back on the couch. Usually he liked such displays, but there was something about it today that irritated him.

“Val, careful! You could have hit my display.”

“Ohh, hahahaha, what’s a little scratch! You won’t die from it.”

“You know damn well they are expensive and a pain in the ass to replace. I have a fund set aside for stuff you break because it happens way too often.”

Sometimes Vox wondered if Valentino did it on purpose. He knew Valentino liked to break stuff and hurt and kill people, but the more time he spent with him, the more he started considering the possibility Valentino was out for his head. After all, he was rich and successful, betraying him by knowing so much confidential info of him, would be a piece of cake and daily life in hell. Vox had to dodge the things that had been carelessly thrown around by Val in blind rage, Val had a habit of blindly hurting people.

Vox, was an overlord, so he had no place to judge, but the horrifying things that Val did to his employee’s for seemingly little reason left an opening to think it might ever be directed to him. One of the reasons he always made sure to keep a semblance of professional distance between them.

Vox was physically stronger, but he was a bit rusty…

“Aaawwww, babyyy, come on…”, Val wrapped two of his long arms around his leg, whining like a puppy, “Can we have some morning fun, mhhh? I am still a little sore, but one more time should be fine.”

“Ah… that’s why you wanted me to come along? So I could watch…”, Vox sighed and shook his head.

“I never said you can’t join in, ehehehe. But maybe better not. His dick was bigger than yours.”

Why was he dating this man again? Ah, right. Money and power … similar goals and branch and because Val was sexy and charismatic. But that was like the minimum requirement to catch Vox’s interest.

“Cool. Take a shower, Val. And no tequila before breakfast! I am gonna be in a meeting soon.”, Vox shook him off and walked out.

So Vox had wanked off to his arch nemesis last night, there was NOTHING to panic over. That was totally normal. No, it would be STRANGE if that didn’t happen considering he’d known the goddamn Radio Demon for 70 years by now. No, they haven’t been friends for decades, but if you knew someone that long you’d either kill them or marry them. And if you wanted to do both at once, you have quite the problem. (He’d known Valentino for 50 years and his feelings for him weren’t nearly as intense, although he was A LOT easier to get along with.)

Noooo, no he wasn’t imagining their marriage. No, he wasn’t sitting in the meeting, daydreaming about kissing Alastor and going on dates. Oh, he had been Alastor’s fanboy and friend for ages, been obsessed with him. But for the first time in his life he purely craved Alastor’s affections, be it platonic or romantic. All, because he was back and the butterflies in his stomach were festering, like an unholy parasite.

He had been dreaming of defeating, hurting, even killing Alastor for 7 years… How did things suddenly change that drastically!? He saw him when he came back and that was it… and now he couldn’t stop thinking about him. Had he secretly thought all these compromising things about him in secret and now that he was back Vox could no longer hold back his true feelings? And his anger issues came from the abandonment and he didn’t actually want him dead? “Mr. Vox? Mr. Vox, are you listening?” “Oh, I am sorry… I had a long night. Can you repeat your last sentence?”, he put on his polite customer service voice.

When Vox was back from the meeting a couple hours later, Val… seemed in a very strange mood. Namely he threw Vox against the wall and started aggressively making out with him. The TV demon played along for a while and then pushed him aside, lifting a brow. “Don’t tell me, you are still drunk? … Don’t you have like… work to do?” Valentino slowly sunk to his knees, looking up at Vox like an excited, very lewd puppy. “We could squeeze in a quickie. I am still hungover though, open your pants.” “Booooooooooooys I brooought food. Bahahahahahaha, are you gonna bang in the living room again, with everyone seeing!?”

Vox shook his head, heading over to Velvette to see what she had gotten. “He is running from his responsibilities again, is what he is doing…” “VOOOOOOOXY, COME OOOOON. I will be good, comeeeee on. I didn’t mean it with the dick comment. It sure is nice, but he was not dating material.” “I am not jealous, Tino, we already established we are okay with it.” The moth demon stood slowly up again, towering over them, furrowing his thin brows and crossing his arms. “Yeeeeaaah? Why are you angry at me still?” “Because you’re annoying…”, Vox threw him a yogurt package, that ended up right in the middle of the moth’s face, made him stumble and fall backwards onto the couch, “Oh shit, I am sorry.”

He wasn’t. 

Vox already read the first article about himself and the power outage, subsequently realizing how much attention he had generated for the Radio Demon. Well, even if he had kind of failed the showdown, bad publicity was still publicity. This was the best way to get Alastor’s attention. And damn if he didn’t enjoy it. But he wanted more, he needed all of it… If he wasn’t careful, he might fuck everything up. Alastor was right on one thing. He wasn’t nearly as physically powerful and independent as Alastor. How did he do it? Where would he learn it?

Sir Pentious failed his task to infiltrate their quarters… well, to be expected of someone as unremarkable as him. Hmmm, what if he skipped the middle man and went there himself? (No one could be trusted to be loyal in hell after all.)

Of course, to spy on Alastor and find out all his secrets and conquer him.

Not seduce him, no, not at all.

After all, how dare Alastor turn all of his attention to some sanctimonious brats and barely even focus on radio broadcasts? Except, if he found something with much more potential in the long run. Something worth exploiting. Vox definitely had to see that. Or did he? Would he really dare do that? Possibly ruin his reputation to get back at his archenemy/friend/crush (whatever)? Absolutely. Everything be damned, this was the opportunity of his life. He just wasn’t sure if he could actually do it. It was such a big step, so risky, so different to what he usually did. And there was no guarantee it would all work. He had to prepare carefully for the operation and explain it to his allies.

Damn that Louisiana yerk.

Vox had thought he had successfully survived the second day of going crazy over Alastor, as he stepped into his penthouse, completely drained from the day’s activities. He didn’t expect to be turned, tripped up to fall against the bed and then pinned down. Val was peering hungrily at him with a wide mouthed grin. “Baaaaabyyyy!”, he leered at him, “I gotchu a present!” “For fucks sake, Valentino. Can you not do that like normal people?” “No. Ehe…”, the moth demon gently lifted himself off the bed and reached down into a bag to retrieve a little box, “I remember you wanted to buy one of those new models, but weren’t sure which one. I gave them your technical specifications and they got the best one!” Ah, one of the gadgets Vox wanted to get, but forgot due to the excitement of the last days. He grinned at how observant Valentino was and through how much trouble he had gone to get it. “Awww… really? For me? I gotta test if that’s some good shit.”

“I am not dumb. I checked!” “Are you?”, Vox chuckled, opening the box and staring curiously at it, then putting it on the floor, “Anyway who cares.” Valentino was about to get offended, but Vox simply pulled him into his arms, giving him a little kiss: “Thaaaank you so much.” “Oh yeah, you better thank me.”, Valentino climbed further into the bed, following with more kisses, expecting to be coddled up real soon.

It wasn’t all bad, otherwise Vox would have stopped trying quickly. But he had his doubts. Sometimes he didn’t even want to call Valentino his boyfriend but his ‘forced acquaintance’ , even ‘his job’ . Great. If something ever happened to Vox, he wasn’t sure Valentino would even bat an eye, except for all the stress of running the company. … 

But sometimes Vox just ignored that feeling. … It was nice to feel wanted. To have someone to hold and tell your problems to. Even if he and Valentino… seemed to just be biding their time, using favors. If they both were aware of it, it didn’t matter, right?