#one inspires me for the other which i really like

[maskedbyghost]

Simon knew marriage came with adjustments, but nothing could have prepared him for life with a writer.

It wasn’t just the weird questions—though there were plenty of those—it was the way your mind never seemed to slow down. You’d be doing something completely normal, like folding laundry, and suddenly stop, eyes going distant.

He’d barely have time to ask what was wrong before you’d rush off to scribble something down, muttering about plot twists and character arcs.

Sometimes, he’d wake up in the middle of the night to find you sitting up in bed, phone screen lighting up your face as you frantically typed notes because “this idea can’t wait until morning.”

It meant half-finished coffee cups scattered around the house, abandoned when inspiration hit.

It meant narrating your own actions under your breath, like “she sighed, stretching her arms above her head” while actually doing it, which always made him raise an eyebrow.

And then there were the moments that made him question everything, like when you casually asked if he thought someone could realistically survive being shot twice in the chest or how long a body would take to decompose in a swamp. He used to answer with concern. Now, he barely looked up. “For a book?” “For a book.”

At first, he thought the strangest part was the research, but then he realized it was how easily you pulled him into it. You used him for everything—testing out fight scenes by making him grab your wrist so you could figure out how a character would escape, running your hands over his shoulders and down his arms as you mumbled about muscle structure and “what kind of build do you think my main guy should have?”

You studied him constantly, stealing phrases he said, describing his expressions in your notes, even admitting once that a few of your male characters had a bit of his attitude.

And then there was the way you used him for other inspiration. He figured it out one evening when he saw you sitting on the couch, staring at him with that look—one that usually meant you had something on your mind, but this time, you weren’t saying anything. Just watching.

He glanced over from where he was cleaning his gun. “What?”

You didn’t answer right away, just tilted your head slightly. “I think I want to write a new scene.”

He raised his brow, setting his things aside. “What kind of scene?”

A small smile played on your lips as you stood, walking toward him. “Something a bit messy.”

Simon leaned back, arms resting lazily on the couch as he looked you up and down. “You need details, then?”

“Mhm.” You straddled his lap, fingers toying with the hem of his shirt. “Need to get it just right.”

He smirked, his hands settling on your waist. “That why you’re lookin’ at me like I’m about to be put to work?”

“You don’t mind a little hard work, do you?” you teased, nails scraping lightly against his skin.

His grip tightened, voice low. “Not if you’re gonna make it worth my while.”

Much later, when you were tangled in the sheets, catching your breath, you rolled over and reached for your phone. Before you could even unlock it, a strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you back against Simon’s chest. “Nope,” he muttered against your shoulder.

You laughed. “I just had a thought—”

“Don’t care.” His voice was warm and heavy with sleep. “Whatever you’re about to write down, you can remember it in the morning.”

“But—”

A hand slid down your hip, fingers pressing into your skin in a way that made you shiver. “I said, in the morning,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. Then, just to make sure you listened, he added, “Be a good girl and go to sleep.”

Your entire body heated at the words, your brain short-circuiting for a second before snapping into overdrive. Without a word, you bolted upright, nearly diving for your phone as you started typing furiously.

Simon groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Are you serious?”

“Shhh,” you hushed him, fingers flying across the screen. “This is really good.”

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

@daydreamerwoah

[vershautece]

Imagine the whole phd thing was your inside joke nobody else knew about and one day you’re at a gathering and somebody asks “so luigi, thinking of going for that phd soon?” He smirks and looks towards you like “what you think of me and a phd baby?” OHHHH LETS GO HOME RIGHT NOW AND I’LL TELL YOU

*when i first started responding to this ask i didn’t even mean to write a whole oneshot haha but omfg guys this is like size kink heaven

—

omg this is what im saying he would literally be this cocky and teasing😣 and yes i love the idea of it being an inside joke like u guys were prob just cuddling scrolling on your phones and he starts laughing bc he’s just seen a tweet about someone doing a phd and it inspired the joke😭 ur both giggling like children and then u turn to him and decide to tease, batting your lashes. ‘so is it really as huge as you say, sir?’ & you know damn well it’s a whole 7 inches bc ur insides have it memorised. ur rubbing his bulge through his pants and when he tells u to straddle him you’re giggling and whining while u dry hump

he’s going along with your playing dumb gimmick: ‘you need help remembering how big my cock is baby? don’t want just the tip, no? you want the whole thing? how many inches am i, princess?’

‘mm, 5?’ you’re messing with him still, grinding your hips onto his clothed crotch. his hands are moving between your sides, your lower back and gripping and kneading your ass in your loungewear.

at your words he immediately scoffs, and cocks his tongue to the inside of his cheek: ‘yeah sure baby, so you wanna see if you’re right?’ his smirk is making you so wet, and it’s surely gonna leak through the thin fabric you’re wearing. your hands are pushing on his chest now while you rock your hips against his.

‘mhmm, show me baby, i don’t think you can call it a phd if it’s only 5 inches. hm?’ u tease him, and move back off his crotch a little to palm him through his sweatpants. he’s so hard now, and u almost moan out loud at the feeling of him even through fabric.

‘take it out then, sweetheart’ he’s looking at you with pure lust in his eyes as you sit back to pull his sweatpants and his boxers down his legs, throwing them onto the other side of the bed.

his cock is fully erect, almost slapping against his stomach, and he hisses at the feeling. ‘what do you think, baby?’

you’re nearly drooling at the sight, and you giggle, biting your lip. ‘still think it’s just 5 inches, lu’ you bat your eyelashes, pouting slightly, and he nods slowly in response. ‘see if you can take those 5 inches in your mouth then, come on. if it’s only 5 you can do it, sweetheart’

you don’t break eye contact with him as you put him in your mouth, and you only get halfway down before you start to gag. the sight of u struggling to deepthroat him while maintaining eye contact has him going insane. he lets out one loud groan as soon as he’s in your mouth, and instinctively moves his hand to your hair, holding it out of your face. ‘why can’t you take it all, bellissima? hm? come off my cock for a second and answer me, yeah?’

you reluctantly take him out of your mouth, and tease him by spitting out his precum back onto the tip of his cock. ‘mm, think i need to feel it inside me lu, y’know if it hits my cervix then maybe i can say you do qualify for a phd’

u and luigi literally never have sex without him hitting your cervix - he knows you’re messing with him and his size kink is going crazy. he gives u that smirk (u guys know which oneee) ‘that’s fine baby ill give it to you, but you didn’t answer my question. why can’t you deepthroat my cock, beautiful?’

‘mm, stop asking questions and tell me to put it inside baby’ you moan, rocking yourself on his bare thigh and stroking his cock - you’re still fully clothed, and this friction isn’t enough

‘so fuckin’ needy, hm? yeah, you want my dick inside you? take everything off baby, there wasn’t any point in wearing panties cause you’re leaking through your clothes, mm’ he sits up a bit and reaches forward to rub your pussy slowly through your pants. he can locate the clit even through your clothes, and he slaps it lightly as a way of telling you to strip off. you take off your tank top, shuffle out of your pants, and then pull down your soaking panties, and luigi is jerking off slowly in front of you, trying to control his moans. you position yourself on him, replacing his hand with yours on his cock so that you can guide him into you. slowly, you start to push in the tip, and you nearly scream at the pleasure from his tip alone. ‘mmmm, lu’ you place your hands on his chest, and he’s smirking up at u. ‘mhm? this is just the tip baby girl, you gonna push me in deeper? shouldn’t be that difficult since im not that big, huh? cmon’ and he starts drawing slow circles on your clit just to tease you even more. you roll your eyes and push him in deeper, letting out another pornographic moan. ‘luigiiii, mm you’re so bi-’

his smirk grows wider: ‘i’m what? repeat that baby’ he lifts his hips to slowly push the rest into you, groaning at the feeling, and when he bottoms out you lean forward onto his chest and put your arms around his neck. ‘you’re so big, mmmm Mr phd’ you giggle into his chest

‘yeah? it’s more than 5 inches, huh, princess?’ he wraps his arms tight around your waist and gently pulls your face from his chest. he kisses you passionately, and you’re both giving each other teasing smiles when u break the kiss. ‘mhm, feel you in my cervix’ you moan softly; he’s not even started moving yet.

‘yeah, i know baby’ he coos at you, caressing your abdomen where his imprint is. ‘start rocking your hips, and i’ll get to making you feel so good, hm?’ he kisses you again softly as you start grinding on his cock. ‘mmmm, i’m so lucky’ you moan

his arms are moving up and down your torso now, and occasionally to your ass to knead it and grip it. ‘yeah you are, and so am i with this beautiful girl on top of me. you look like an angel, my baby’

you’re blushing down at him, soft moans spilling from your throat as you increase the pace. he’s kissing your neck now and leaving hickeys, while u tangle your fingers in his curls. ‘yeah, grind on my cock just like that, oh fuck’ he’s moaning into your neck, and you keep this pace going for a good few minutes, until he tells you to stop.

u both look at each other with lust filled eyes, a needy whine leaving your throat as you stop moving. he chuckles softly at your desperation. ‘c’mere, baby girl’ he wraps his arms tight around your waist again, and shifts his position on the bed to sit up properly against the headboard, still inside you. ‘c’mere’ he continues to coo at you, then brings u down onto his chest, planting his feet on the bed for the perfect angle to start thrusting up into you. he kisses your forehead, and holds you so tight. you’re prepared for him to start thrusting rough, but instead he starts an extremely frustrating pace of one rough thrust, then stilling inside u, another rough thrust, stilling inside again, and repeat. you want him to be fucking you dumb, not teasing you at this slow pace but it’s so so intimate, and his words in between the thrusts have you feeling like you’re in heaven. ‘i’m starting off slow like this baby, need to make sure you’re really savouring the feeling of how i hit your cervix, mhm? promise i’ll go faster soon’ he speaks to you so sweet and soft, kissing your forehead over and over.

*thrust* ‘mm, that’s it bellissima, you’re taking it so well’ *thrust* ‘mhm, my baby taking my cock so deep for me’ *thrust* ‘yeah, you feeling good?’ *thrust* ‘oh that’s my girl huh? mm, amore mio’

to all of this you’re just responding with moans and incoherent babbles, fingers tangled in his curls - the sensation and the contrast of him thrusting and then stilling inside is heavenly, and you don’t mind the teasing anymore.

‘all you can do is moan for me, hm? all dumb on this phd?’ he’s still at the same pace, and when you still don’t respond he smacks ur ass in between thrusts. u manage to let out a reply through whines: ‘mmm i love you luigi, my baby’

‘i know, sweetheart, i know. i love you too, always wanna show you how much’ he stops thrusting altogether and kisses your shoulder. ‘luigi, please’ you moan, desperate for him to fuck you properly. ‘pazienza, amore mio’

you’re arching your back like a slut waiting for him, and when he starts a steady pace you can’t control any of the whines and moans that leave your throat. ‘oh, luuu, i needed this so bad, your cock’s so fucking big, shit, i can’t’ your eyes roll into the back of your head, and his grip on your waist is so secure it’s making u even dizzier thinking about how protective he is of you. ‘that’s it, sweetheart - is it too much?’ his pace is getting unbelievably faster, and he keeps saying things to you as if you have the energy or brain capacity rn to reply.

‘no it’s perfect baby, want you inside me like this forever’ you manage to reply, and then you’re pressing sloppy kisses all over his neck - your moans vibrating against his skin triggers louder moans from him. ‘oh you’re so good to me, i’m the luckiest girl in the world’

‘baby girl - bambina - i wanna take care of you forever, make you my wife’

‘luigi, i’m gonna cum’ you whine, his words getting u even closer.

‘mhm, you close? yeah? cum for me, beautiful’ he pushes you back off his chest so he can see you, and the eye contact is insane. ‘i wanna see you come undone for me, amore mio, i’m so close too’

‘cum inside me, lu’ you whine desperately, hands gripping his curls so tight. his thrusts haven’t slowed once, and u think it can’t get any better till he suddenly hooks his hands under your ass and makes you jump on his cock, while he shifts his position so that you’re both sat up properly chest to chest, and he bends his knees even more to adjust the angle of his thrusts that somehow makes you feel even better than you already felt.

‘i’m gonna cum, fuck baby, oh, i love you so much’ his moans are erratic, and he’s sucking and kissing your boobs, hands still gripping and smacking your ass.

‘mhmmmm, me too, oh i love you’ you’re rocking your hips frantically to meet his thrusts now, and he pulls away from your boobs just for one second to say something: ‘dolcezza, play with your clit, my pretty girl’

and now your fingers are working erratically on your bundle of nerves, the last thing to push you over the edge as you get your release, screaming luigi’s name. you fall forward onto his chest immediately, while he continues his thrusts to get his own release.

‘that’s a good girl, cumming all over my cock, that’s it - gonna fill you up with mine now, mhm’ he’s muttering these words in your ear, followed by loud grunts as he spills inside you, right before collapsing on the sheets with you on his chest.

you’re both breathing heavily for a few moments and he’s stroking your hair with one hand, pulling you as close as possible by your waist with his other hand. he’s the first to speak: ‘so you’re gonna tell me i qualify for a phd now?’ he’s smirking into your hair, pecking the top of your head. ‘baby’ you giggle into his chest. u caress his cheek and whisper in his ear, ‘of course. and these 7 inches belongs to me’ you’re smiling up at him, and he raises his brows in response. ‘oh so you do admit it now, huh? i know your pussy has every inch of me memorised, you can’t mess with me sweetheart’

he shifts you slightly to slowly pull his cock out of you, and you both giggle at all the cum that drips out onto his stomach :’) then, you look up at him innocently, moving your hand to his softening cock. ‘can you fuck me in the shower, please baby?’

[dailynnt]

AURORA

ᴺᵒʳᵗʰᵉʳⁿ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗˢ

༘✩ Summary: A relationship that survived a breakup but could not be forgotten. Like the northern lights that appear only at certain moments, their feelings had their peaks and troughs, but always remained on the horizon. You meet your ex at some event. The feelings are still alive.

༘✩ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ The Reader

༘✩Age restrictions: 18+

༘✩ Size: one shot

༘✩ Tags: ex to lovers, longing, smurt, cursing, sex, unprotected sex, detailed description of explicit scenes, alcohol

༘✩ Dedication: This work is dedicated to my beloved Armys. I wrote this work thinking of you. I hope this work resonates with you - @myjungkookthighs, @kelsyx33, @someoneelse0109, @mskookie, @kooccult, , @smokinghotstargirl , @curse-of-art, @rispwr, @kooko007

༘✩ From author: I have long dreamed of writing a story like this and here it is in one day. I tried my best for you and I really hope you will like the way I described the love that does not die, even if it seems that it is the end. Inspired by a song I found not so long ago and it immediately associated me with Jungkook💜❤️‍🔥💘 And I'll add another one, the lyrics of which are also here. Enjoy 🙏🏻🥰

You didn't expect to see him. You thought you would never see him again in your life. Certainly not here, among dozens of strangers, in a room flooded with soft light that resembled the glare of the northern lights. But he was here.

Your eyes meet and your heart skips a beat. He is approaching, accompanied by one of the organizers of the event you have come to. He keeps his eyes on you and you can't look away either. He seems to be the only one who could touch the strings of your soul, and they seem to be starting to pluck.

He approaches and stops a few steps away. He didn't expect to see you again either. Your last words had clearly created a great gulf between you that neither of you could cross.

He was not prepared for his heart to beat faster and his breath to become ragged, as if after a long run. But he couldn't show it, he had to control himself.

"Y/N would like to introduce you to one of our biggest sponsors. Jeon Jungkook." - He introduce Jungkook. "And Mr. Jeon, this is Y/N Y/L/N. She's a writer with whom our publishing house works." - Your eyes are greedy. You literally study each other, trying to find what has changed. And if anything has changed at all.

You look at him, waiting for him to behave. Will he pretend that you don't know each other? Or will he say that there is no need to introduce you? Because you used to be the whole world to each other.

"It's nice to meet you, Y/N." - Jungkook says. So he chooses not to be an acquaintance. Hmm, in fact, he is.

"Likewise." - You reply briefly and discreetly. Jungkook pulls your hand towards him and you put yours in his. An electric pulse goes through your whole body.

He has the same look in his eyes. The same movements you know. You used to know every detail about each other. And then you lost it.

This man in front of you was your ex-boyfriend. He was the man who made you feel like the world stopped when you were with him. He was your passion, your trusted friend, your lover. Everything between you was intense and pure, but like everything that burns brightly, it burned out. The breakup was hard and painful.

You felt your heart flutter at the familiar touch. It was more than physical contact - it was like coming home after a long journey. You didn't want it, but just like then, you couldn't shake this deep attachment. You tried to forget him, tried to let him go, but he was remained by you every day, in you every thought. And now, when your hand is back in his, you realized that you was never really ready to let go.

"I read your story. It's amazing. I'm not surprised why it's so successful." - Jungkook says, and you think you're going to fall through the floor. He's a great actor, you've always known that. But you're don’t. Even though your heart is burning with excitement and old feelings are bubbling to the surface, you think you have to go. You can't even let him be with you, because you'll lose all control.

But let's be honest, the walls you've been building for six months since the breakup has cracked. Just looking at him makes you want him to be yours again.

"I am sincerely grateful for your words. But to be honest, you don't strike me as someone who reads romance novels." - You can't contain your sarcasm. Jungkook laughs lightly, his husky voice vibrating, and this vibration ignite your bones.

"Actually, Mr. Jeon is a very creative person. He's a professional photographer." - The event organizer explains, not realizing how much these words can make your heart beat faster. Because you know his profession well.

Jungkook smiles, his eyes rest on you again, and his words sound as if he wants to share something more intimate.

"Yes, I often photograph couples." - He says, his voice softening as if he's immersed in his memories. "For me, photography is not just art, it's a way to feel emotions. Sometimes music, movies, or even novels can inspire moments that seem real only through the lens." - You can't help but smile. He's fended off your sarcastic attack, but the thing is, you doubt he could have read your novel.

Jungkook glances down at your red silk dress, which fits your figure perfectly, seductively emphasizing all the curves of your body. Curves that were once his territory. The curves he knows so well, the ones he's touched so many times

Jungkook holds his breath for a moment. He remembers how that delicate skin trembled under his fingers, how your breath grew deeper every time his hands traveled over your body. And now, looking at you, he feels an almost unbearable urge to run his fingertips over your collarbone again, to go lower, to run his hands around your waist, to put his hand on your lower back, where his touch always made you moan slightly.

His imagination shamelessly draws pictures of that red silk fabric slowly sliding off your body, revealing to him everything he remembers so well. His fingers involuntarily clench into a fist - the desire is too sharp, too real. He knows he has no right to touch you, knows that there is a gaping hole between you, created not only by hurt feelings but also by time.

But, damn it, how much he wants to reach out, to touch at least the ends of your hair, to run his fingers over your cheek, to feel the warmth of your skin again.

And then, when you finally catch his gaze, he quickly masks the thirst in his eyes with a barely noticeable smile. If only you knew what's going on in his head right now. If you knew that this evening is awakening in him what he has been trying to suppress for so long.

"Then I apologize for my hasty conclusions. I am sincerely grateful that you read my work." - You say and quickly add, because you can't stand Jungkook's company anymore. If he wants you to be strangers, you should stay strangers forever. "It was nice to meet you. Have a nice evening." - You say, giving the men a casual smile and walk away, barely able to keep yourself together. You don't let Jungkook know how much of an impact he has on you, even six months later.

After the breakup, your life turned into an endless marathon of forgetting, although in reality you were just trying not to remember. Your heart was cut like glass, and your mind was exhausted from trying to make yourself stronger. Every day you were learning a new role: a successful woman who was moving forward, even though your inner world was in ruins.

There was no shortage of men around. They came and went-attractive, confident, ready to give you everything you lacked. But each of them remained a shadow, and even the best moments with them felt empty compared to what you had with him. Those evenings when they spent together in bed, or just watching a movie in each other's arms, when there was no time, no space, nothing but your two hearts beating in unison.

You were trying to be "normal," trying to find your way and not think about him. If someone had told you six months ago that he would reappear in your life, you would have laughed, because you were sure that you would never let that happen again. You did everything you could to forget. You immersed yourself in work, wrote, traveled, had short-term meetings, but all of this was just a temporary escape from your own pain.

Over time, you thought, that you might actually be left alone, just to find myself again. You were no longer looking for someone who could give you back the feeling of the real connection that you had. It was your choice, your decision to try to relive this love that you couldn't forget.

But all fate decides. It's not interested in your plans or his plans. It has its own plan and it made sure that your paths crossed again. You are afraid that you won't be able to resist if Jungkook tries to make contact. You love him, but it's unlikely that you'll ever be together again.

The official event is over. You stay at the afterparty. When you enter the restaurant where the party is taking place, you feel a lot of stares. But you are not interested. You stayed after the event because you are excited. Because of the meeting with Jungkook, you can't get rid of the obsessive thoughts and feelings that want to find him and be with him until the morning.

You cautiously study the crowd around you. You don't find Jungkook. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you hope that he has already left, that your chance meeting was just a game of chance, and that's enough. But the part of you that never learned to forget him feels empty.

You stand at the bar, twirling your wine glass in your fingers, letting yourself relax. The atmosphere of an afterparty is lighter, more relaxed than an official event. People are laughing, the music is flowing with a soft rhythm, making your body sway slightly.

And then you feel it. A gaze. His gaze.

Like an echo of the past that won't let go. At first, you don't turn your head, don't give him that pleasure. But you can't stand it, and your eyes meet. You literally give him a second of your gaze, look away. This is enough for him. He comes closer, stands next to you. His perfume is a familiar scent that makes your pulse quicken. A scent that makes you almost crazy.

"Dancing?" - His voice is low, almost inaudible over the music, but it cuts to the core. You look up at him. His eyes are dark, deep, something has changed in them, but at the same time they are still the same. The eyes that looked at you with love and passion.

"I don't think that's a good idea." - You answer, sipping your wine so that he doesn't notice your excitement.

"Come on. It's just a dance." - He holds out his hand and you look at it. You hesitate, but the devil on your shoulder whispers: you want this. He wants this. Go. Go with him. It's just one night. And you make a choice. You put your hand in his.

He leads you to the dance floor. A slow, sensual melody fills the space between you. His hand on your waist is hot, his fingers gently squeezing the silk fabric of your dress. With his other hand, he holds your palm in his, gently but firmly.

You move to the music, his body almost touching yours. It's not just a dance - it's a dangerous game, a test of willpower. And you seem to have already lost. He has deprived you of all willpower.

You look into his eyes and try to understand what is in his mind. What does he want? Just to know what your life has become? Or does he want to try to cross the line? Jungkook's smile is mysterious. The hole from piercing on his lip stretches. You make a titanic effort not to look at his lips.

You dance, every movement a dangerous test. His hand slides to the small of your back and your breath hits you. He always touched you like this - confidently but slowly, as if he was savoring every moment.

But suddenly he leans a little closer, his lips dangerously close to your ear.

"It's... so familiar, isn't it?" - His voice is husky, and you know he feels the same way you do. It's an unrestrained desire to give in to the feelings that overwhelm you. You pull away and look up, catching his eyes. There, in their dark abyss, something forbidden flashes. Memories. A desire.

"It's in the past for me." - You lie. "The past should stay in the past." - You try to make your voice sound confident, but you don't seem to be succeeding. His hand presses lightly on your back.

"Do you really believe that?" - He asks. The silence between you says more than words. You are standing on the edge of an abyss where it is so easy to fall.

You don't know what to say. Your heart is pounding furiously in your chest, and your hands seem to remember what it feels like to touch it, to feel its warmth. You continue to move to the music, but now everything seems even slower, even more tense.

His fingers gently run down your back, a barely perceptible touch that leaves a pulsating trail. He leans in a little closer, his breath burning your skin.

"You say the past should stay where it is." - He smiles at the corner of his lips, as if he can read your thoughts. "But it seems to be catching up with us, Y/N."

You want to object, to say something prickly, but your body is treacherously drawn to him. His hand moves even lower down your back, almost on your buttocks. It makes you hold your breath. This is nothing. It's a game you've both played before. But didn't you know that things always go over the top with Jungkook?

You stop. He stops too. There are only a few centimeters between you, but it's enough to make every cell in your body burn.

"Jungkook..." - You whisper, not even knowing what you want to say. He looks at you, carefully, almost painfully slowly. His gaze slides across your face, lingers on your lips, and then meets yours again.

"Tell me I have to stop." - He whispers, leaning closer, barely touching your cheek with his nose. "I won't touch you unless you let me." - He says it quietly but confidently. And this is the cruelest thing. Because you don't know what will be worse for you - if he actually touches you or if he pulls away.

You want to tell him to stop. You really do. But instead, your fingers involuntarily clamp down on the fabric of his jacket, not allowing you to move away.

"I can't..." - You give up. So quickly, so foolishly. This admission was enough.

His lips touch your neck very lightly, causing a shiver to run through your body. You sigh, tilting your head as if to give him more access. And he does not refuse.

"Why do you still have this effect on me?" - You protest out loud. He was quiet, almost broken by his own feelings. He ran his fingers along your collarbone, causing your eyes to close.

"Because we never really let go of each other." - He said what you needed to hear. What you hadn't allowed yourself to admit for six months.

You inhale sharply, meeting his gaze. Deep, dark, full of desire. Another moment, and this thin line between temptation and prohibition disappear completely.

"Let's get out of here." - His voice sounded almost like an order, but you knew it was not just a desire. It was a need. Your shared need for each other.

You nodded, and he immediately took your hand, intertwining your fingers. You left the hall quickly, without looking back. The night city greeted you with cool air, but a fire burned inside you.

Jungkook opened the car door for you, and you got in, feeling your heart pounding madly in your chest. He quickly walked around the car, got behind the wheel, and in a moment you were already pulling out of the parking lot.

"Where are we going?" - You asked, even though the answer wasn't that important. Jungkook gave you a dark, hot, intoxicating look.

"To my place." - He answered. Your heart literally threatens to jump out of your chest. The sensation of butterflies in your stomach excites you to incredible emotions. He puts his tattooed hand on your thigh, as if to claim you. You can feel your underwear getting wet in anticipation of what will happen at Jungkook's house.

"This is crazy." - You say, barely audible. Jungkook smiled.

"And you like it." - He said, still smiling. You wanted to deny it, but why would you, when it's really true.

Jungkook closes the door behind you, and you immediately find yourself pressed against the wall. His lips are so demanding, so powerful over yours. Your insides tremble because it's all so familiar to you. It feels like the six months of separation just didn't happen.

Your hot breath mingled with his as he pulled away from you to take a breath. He was looking at your face. Your eyes were slightly squinted, your lips swollen from kissing, your skin burning from his touch. You were as beautiful as the first night he fell in love with you.

"Are we really going to do this?" - You asked. Your voice broke into a whisper as he ran his fingertips down your neck, along your collarbone, and even lower to the neckline of your dress.

"Yes..." - He says hoarsely, between kisses on your neck. "I should stop, shouldn't I?" - He asks your opinion. You want to moan as he bites your skin and then runs his tongue over the spot.

"Jungkook..." - You breathe out. You don't know if you're begging him to continue or to stop. He stops kissing your neck. Your faces are separated by a few centimeters.

"Last chance to say no, my love." - He says. Fuck, he called you "love," he called you that because he loved you, does he still love you? You ran your fingers along his jaw, gently but firmly.

"Do you want me to say it?" - You ask with a challenge. Let him decide too, you are not the only one responsible for your actions. He squeezes your buttocks with his hands.

"No." - Jungkook says confidently. You smile seductively, giving him the green light. But he's in no hurry to continue what he's started. You know he's waiting for the words.

"Fuck me, love." - You ask. Jungkook's cock twitches in his boxers when he hears those words. Fuck. How can you say that so easily? He's going crazy. He throws himself on your lips, pressing his strong body against yours. His tongue enters your mouth with authority and finds yours. Six months. Six fucking months he wanted you back. He dreamed that you would be in his hands like this. And he made a promise to himself that if he could get you back, he would never let you go again.

Your underwear is getting wet. You are so excited that you think you will burn with passion. Jungkook's tongue seems to be punishing you for being away for so long. His hands are squeezing the meat on your buttocks with good pressure. He picks you up in his arms, and you only cry out softly, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Jungkook puts you down on the floor in his bedroom, interrupting your unrestrained kisses. He lightly touches your silk shoulder and runs his finger under the strap of your dress. He sees your erect nipples through the fabric of your dress. One movement and the shoulder strap is on falling down. He does the same with the other strap. He pulls down the silk and it slides over your figure.

As the dress falls to the floor, gathering at your feet, a picture he literally imagined when he saw it at the party flashes before his eyes.

His cock hardens even more, because your naked body is a frenzy. It's his weakness. That's what makes him commit sin.

He takes your tits in his hands and squeezes it. He feels that you are real. That he is not dreaming about you, as he has been for the last six months. He bends down and eagerly sucks on your erect nipple. Oh, it's a rosebud on his tongue. It tastes so sweet. Jungkook plays with your nipple with his tongue. When he sucks harder, you feel pain, pain that brings pleasure and sweet agony. Jungkook massages the other breast in his hand, and then smoothly moves to the other breast to savor it as well.

You throw your head back and enjoy his actions. You're addicted to the way he crosses the line.

Your pussy is throbbing and you're wetter than ever. You haven't had intimate relations since you broke up with Jungkook, so now you're just going crazy with every move.

Jungkook pulls away from your chest and smiles. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his hard cock sticking out of his pants.

He comes close and puts one arm around your waist. You watch him closely. He leans in and you think he's going to kiss you. You even close your eyes, but when nothing happens, you open them to check where he is. He's right there, and he's wearing a cheeky, sly smile.

"Let's see how wet my girl is." - He suggests. His hand goes into your panties, instantly finding your excited clit. He presses his fingers on it and you forget how to breathe.

"Fuck. Honey, is this waterfall for me?" - He asks you, and you can't answer him because you're losing your mind to his movements on your clit. You moan, loud and seductive. Jungkook can't help but kiss you. He covers your lips with his own and kisses you deeply, hotly, while building up your orgasm with his fingers.

You moan into his lips. Jungkook plunges two fingers into your passage and wants to curse. He forgot how tight it is in here. He's angry, thinking that someone else could be in that pussy besides him. So his movements and kisses become rougher.

The pressure he creates with his fingers excites you even more. You like it, but it's not enough because it's not his cock.

Jungkook gently lays you down on the bed, which is so familiar. It has witnessed your love so many times. Jungkook pulls down your thong. He looks at your pussy with great greed, the thong sliding down your slender legs. When your underwear is in his hand, he is in no hurry to throw it away. He touches the fabric with his nose, inhaling your scent.

"This is what my love smells like." - He says. You blush. This is so damn intimate. Jungkook throws your thong somewhere near your dress at floor. You watching him.

He's still as handsome as ever. A slim, toned body where every muscle is visible when it moves. You know so well what those muscles are to the touch. Only he seems to have new tattoos on his right arm. You notice that the eye that was below the elbow is gone, and now there is a green ink mark that says "bulletproof" instead. Oh yes, it's really about him.

"Did you have sex with anyone after me?" - Jungkook distracts you from looking at his tattoos. You raise one eyebrow. Why would he want to know in the middle of your lovemaking?

"Why do you ask?" - You don't answer, but ask your own question. Jungkook takes off his pants and throws them somewhere else.

"Answer me." - He says with authority. And this word sounds more like an order. You resent this. Why do you have to talk to him about it? You, for example, know without a doubt that he has definitely fucked some girls.

"Does it matter to you?" - You ask, not listening to his order. It matters to him. He was your first man, and the thought of anyone touching your body, which is unprecedentedly his, pisses him off.

Jungkook takes off his boxers. You can see his cock, hard and erect, hitting his thighs. You salivate at the sight of it. Jungkook's nude figure drives you crazy. You dream of him entering you and finally destroying you and all your desires not to be with him.

Jungkook approaches you dangerously.

He grabs your ankle and pulls you to the edge of the bed with a sharp movement. You scream, not expecting him to do this. He sits you down on the edge of the bed and leans in almost touching you. His lips are near yours and his breath burns your skin.

"Answer me when I ask you questions. Because when I want to know something, it's important to me. So, will you tell me? Did some dickhead touch my pussy? Or at least your tits, which also belong to me?" - He speaks low and commanding. His voice echoes in your head. How does he have such power over you? Why are you so excited by these words? You want to tease him more. You know it could be dangerous, but you've always been a gambler.

"What would you do if I told you that dickhead were?" - You ask. Your words have an immediate effect on Jungkook. His eyebrows raise and his eyes darken with rage. He lifts you up, pulling on your arm. It doesn't hurt, but it's sharp. He presses you down and you feel his erect cock resting against your pussy.

"So you're saying you were?" - He asks, but his voice isn't as hard as he looks. "You promised you'd be mine alone. My little slut. You wouldn't let anyone fuck your pussy. You're lying to me." - He says, smiling defiantly.

"I didn't lie. I asked you what you would do if I was like you and found a free cock? Huh?" - You ask with the same audacity. Jungkook squeezes your buttocks.

"I'd wipe him off the face of the earth." - He says casually. "Because he touched something that's mine."

"I'm not yours." - You say. But what are you saying? You are his. Every cell of that body belongs to him. You can't be with other men because you've never met anyone who can compare to him.

"Mine." - He argues with a wide smile on his lips. It makes you angry, even though you agree with him. "You're still mine... that's why you're here now. No one can touch you like I can, no one can love you like I can, no one can fuck you like I can, no one can keep your secrets like I can. I will give you all of this, and I will never let you go." - The lump in your throat prevents you from breathing normally.

You hold back the tears that threaten to fall down. Let these words be true. Let him keep his promise. Because you want to be with him. Jungkook breaks into you with a kiss to assure you of his words. Two lonely tears drops melt between your hot kiss. Jungkook pulls away and you breathe heavily into his lips. He wipes away the tear tracks with his thumbs.

"I haven't had anyone." - You confess, your voice desperate. "I couldn't even bear a strange man touching my body. So you are right. I couldn't be with anyone else." - Jungkook smiles with satisfaction. He knew that.

Jungkook sits on the edge of the bed and invites you to sit on his lap. You climb on top, holding onto his shoulders. Jungkook's cock lies between you, and you look hopefully between your bodies. Jungkook touches your chin with two fingers and lifts it, forcing you to look at him.

"I need to stretch you first, baby. You haven't had sex in a long time." - Jungkook says with pleasure in his voice. You nod your head in agreement.

Jungkook puts one hand on your hip and moves the other to your pussy. He dips one finger into the passage and moves the top down, creating some friction. You sigh blissfully, closing your eyes. After a while, he plunges his other finger in. The pressure increases and you moan softly. And when Jungkook plunges his third finger in, you feel a slight discomfort. It's only his fingers, when he puts his cock in it will hurt.

Jungkook has stretched you properly, and then he invites you to ride him.

"Give me a good ride." - He asks you. You smile and get up to sit on his attractive cock. Jungkook puts his cock’s head against your entrance and presses. You slowly lower yourself and when his tip plunges into your passage, you almost immediately feel pain. You scream out in pain and he stops, but not for long. He gives you a few seconds and then pushes down on your hips, lowering you. You're in pain, and you bite your lip to hold back your screams.

Finally you are filled with his cock to the brim. You feel it twitching inside you.

"Fuckin' shit." - Jungkook curses. He holds back as best he can. He really forgot how tight you are.

You sit like this for no more than half a minute. In the meantime, Jungkook has been working on your clit to get you used to its length. You squeeze his shoulders. He kisses you and you want to get down to the real business.

You start moving on his hips, lifting yours. The first movements are accompanied by pain. But after a while it feels good. You squirm on his lap and let out strangled moans. Jungkook helps you by supporting your hips and admires his beloved's face. It eloquently shows pleasure.

"How do you like riding my cock? Huh, baby? Did you miss it?" - Jungkook asks playfully. His voice breaks because you're riding his cock so well.

"Yeah..." - You answer in a long breath. It feels so good, it's pure ecstasy, it's euphoria. You're chasing an orgasm and he's taking you there.

"Let's make this reconciliation unforgettable." - Jungkook suggests. He takes over the initiative with his hands. He squeezes your thighs harder and pushes you deep and sharp. Your head is spinning from these movements. You bite your lips again, but Jungkook moves closer to you. "Don't hold back the moans I deserve." - He orders. You stop biting your lips, and now your loud moans fill the entire room.

Jungkook has found just the right spot. You feel like you're about to come. Your fingernails tear off the skin on his shoulders.

"Love..." - You call out to him. "I'm close."

Jungkook absorbs your expression with an absolutely lustful gaze. He speeds up his movements, but not so that he can come. He's definitely not done with you yet. You raise and lower your hips on Jungkook's lap to finally have the orgasm you've been waiting for.

When the knot in your lower abdomen is untied, you throw your head back and moan long and hard. Your velvety walls are squeezed by Jungkook's cock, and he jerks you upward to keep from cumming himself. You don't realize it right away. Only when you're on your knees, resting your pussy against Jungkook's abs, and you feel his hands on your buttocks.

"What a good girl. You have your first orgasm." - He counts.

Jungkook orders you to lie down on the pillows and spread your legs for him. He positions himself between your legs without sinking into you. He kisses you on the lips, filling your mouth with his tongue. Your tongues intertwine in a dance of love and passion. When you need air, Jungkook breaks the kiss. He goes down to your jaw, then your neck. He savored every inch of your skin, memorizing it again, as if he were discovering something long forgotten but painfully familiar.

He covered your body with kisses until he was in front of your pussy. The memory of his tongue on your clit makes you wet. Jungkook kisses your folds with a weightless kiss, and you're already trembling. He smiles out of the corner of his mouth.

"I forgot how sweet she is." - He comments. You lift your head to see him between your legs. He kisses the inside of your thighs, not wanting to leave an inch of skin on you that he hasn't kissed.

When he begins to lick your clit, making circular motions around your clit, you can't hold your head up. You fall back on the pillows. Your back arches unconsciously. Jungkook squeezes your buttocks and then sucks on your center. You moan again, and Jungkook thinks he'll never get tired of the sound. He's happy that he's the only one who hears these sounds.

You come on his tongue very quickly. Your swollen, excited clit didn't need much attention. You jerk on his tongue and Jungkook presses his tongue against your center to make sure you have your second orgasm of the night as long as possible.

You stop twitching and breathe heavily. Jungkook kneels down by your spread legs and you can see his beard glistening with your juice. He wipes his chin with his hand and comes closer to you.

"Is my baby satisfied?" - He asks. You are almost unable to speak. You smile and barely speak.

"It was just as fucking gorgeous as ever.” - Jungkook laughs heartily, and once again wants to kiss you. You taste your cum on his tongue. His kisses become slower, deeper.

"I've been waiting for this for so long..." - His voice was quiet, almost hoarse, when he broke away from your lips. You, too, had secretly dreamed that you would have the opportunity to be together again. And who knows how it all will worked out.

Jungkook plunged into you again. His cock entered you painlessly this time. You couldn't get enough, because this is what you will always need. You bent to meet his touch, feeling your bodies merging in a single rhythm.

Every movement was slow, as if he wanted to prolong this moment as long as possible.

Jungkook knew every curve of your body, every weakness that made you sigh and tremble. But this time it was different. Deeper. Stronger. It wasn't just desire. It was something more.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as your lips found each other again. He was everything to you that night - a fire that burned from the inside out, and a sea that enveloped you in its waves.

He took his time.

You didn't want it to end.

Your breaths mingle, hot and uneven, as his movements become stronger. He feels a wave of some new emotions, as if he is rediscovering a familiar body.

"You have no idea how much I..." - Jungkook stops, his lips barely touching yours. You open your eyes and stare into his handsome face. You notice beads of sweat on his face and a few loose strands of hair.

"How much what?" - Your voice sounds almost hoarse, and he smiles because he knows you're on the verge.

"How much I missed you." - He finally whispers. You don't have time to say anything because Jungkook is pushing you. You lie in his arms. Your legs are intertwined around his waist. He is deep inside you and this is the best moment of the whole year.

His movements are slow and deep at first, but with each new one he speeds up. He fucks you like never before, and you close your eyes, enjoying the sensation. You feel another orgasm coming over you. Jungkook's hips thrust fast and you choke on the sweetest orgasm of the night.

Jungkook comes after you, filling you to the brim with cum. He jerks inside you for a while and stops only when he releases himself with a whimper.

He collapses into the crook of your neck and you both breathe heavily. You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. His heavy breathing mingles with yours, and your heart hasn't yet returned to its normal rhythm. Your throat is dry, and you urgently need water.

Jungkook finally stands up and smiles at you with satisfaction. You reflexively do the same.

"You... water?" - Your voice breaks, and you're almost ashamed of how weak it sounds. Jungkook smiles slightly, realizing that you're asking him for water.

"Just a moment, my love." - He says and pecking on your lips. He gently pulls out of you. You try to sit up and cover yourself with the blanket you had sex on.

Jungkook puts on his boxers, finds a bottle of water on the table, unscrews the cap, and hands it to you. You take a few sips, trying to come to your senses. Jungkook sits down next to you, rests his hands on the bed on either side of your hips, and looks you straight in the eye.

"I don't want to let you go anymore." - He says clearly. You freeze.

"Jungkook..." - You want to say something, but you find yourself unceremoniously interrupted by him.

"I'm serious." - He interrupts. "I was an idiot for letting you leave back then. I thought it was for the best, that you and I would destroy each other if we stayed together. But you know what? It was even worse without you."

You look at him, feeling something hot squeezing your chest.

"I don't know if..." - If we should start again. You want to say. But he interrupts you again. The conversations during sex were frank, but now that you're back to reality, things are just as complicated as they were.

"I know." - His large hands gently wrap around yours. "And I'm going to do everything I can to make up for my mistakes. I don't want just one night, Y/N. I want everything. I want you. I want our future."

You see the sincerity in his dark eyes, and it almost scares you. You're afraid, even though you really want to start over.

"What if it doesn't work out again?" - You share your worries.

"I will make it work. Every day. Every time you doubt, I'll prove to you that I love you more than ever." - He leans in slowly, giving you a chance to stop him. But you don't. Your lips meet again, and this time the kiss is not so hot, not so hasty. It's deeper, more tender.

Like a hope.

Like a promise.

"Let's try again." - You agree. You look into his eyes, reading everything he didn't say out loud: fear, hope, devotion. Jungkook has never been a man to give up easily, and now he was proving it again.

Your fingers involuntarily squeeze his hand, as if checking to see if he is real, if this moment is real.

"Do you promise we will?"

He leans in even closer, his forehead touching yours.

"I promise." - He whispers. And this time you believe him.

Like the northern lights that appear only at certain moments, your feelings had their peaks and troughs, but they were always on the horizon. You could get lost in each other, disappear, losing light, but you came back, blooming with new colors.

Because your love is like the sky itself. Eternal. Unpredictable. And worth waiting for.

[darqx]

Another BP/HH/Gen answer dump as usual starting with BP and then moving into the other two \o/

All demons age about the same rate as humans (although with earlier milestones as babies) UNTIL they hit their 30s-40s after which aging slows down drastically 🙂‍↕️

Izm chasing you down to get .D back like

🤔 You guys sometimes really make me think about things I don't often have to think about LOL. I'm just gonna do the gang this time so off the top of my head:

Izm and .D are often eating sushi in my drawings and since I'm pretty sure Izm is mainly the one buying, sushi is his fave. He'll eat any type but he prefers the raw fish ones.

Whilst .D also likes sushi, it's not his fave dish. His fave dish is pasta in a red sauce (like Sugo or Arrabiata) for some reason. Nostalgia maybe?

Zeke is a meat and potatoes kind of guy, so, a nice juicy sirloin with mushroom sauce and a side of roast potatoes and veggies. (BP!Zeke is similar but he really likes pork/bacon particularly, so a pork roast for him probably).

Wei Ren's comfort foods are chicken congee, and seafood steamboat/hot pot.

Marcus' fave is his mom's chicken casserole.

Oh I'm glad (and thank you very much)! I hope you get lots of inspiration and can create a lot of things :D

Hm, that's a good question! I think, for doodling purposes, my fave is Rire mainly because Rire always looks more or less completed in black and white. My other two faves are .D and Izm - .D is a good exercise in subtle expressions whereas Izm is the complete opposite (esp with BP!Izm with that mouth).

Yes. I mean, I'd prefer you be at least 15 for those two things only cos if i had to age rate them they could be considered M or MA15+.

Hullo! The short answer is that there are also "not normal" skin tones, it depends on the demon species :)

The rest of society is pretty standard so yes there are charlatans in the world of BP lol. HOWEVER, no one would pretend to be a BP for three distinct reasons:

You need to be sanctioned to be a BP (ie they have abilities that normal people do not, like being able to perform exorcisms.)

There is no profit to be had as BPs generally don't get paid (all their living expenses are generally covered by their religion's HQ).

It's dangerous work. You'd have better luck being a bank robber.

Desmond is def a club music kind of guy XD EDMs, techno, trance, hardstyle, house, whatever - the kind of stuff you jump energetically up and down to at a club/concert/rave, he'll listen to it.

Not yet for BP (soon...🙏🏻). HH wasn't really a comic series so much as a bunch of somewhat random one shots I did for fun lol.

^ you guys :d

I don't put my pronouns anywhere partly because it is lowkey amusing for me to see how people perceive me online. It doesn't really matter to me, so go with your best guess lol.

You would be surprised at how much time those two hobbies can take up outside of work |D; I also like doing puzzle games (like Quordle etc), coding, going for walks/bike riding, making slightly odd food combos in normal recipes and freaking out my friends on Discord with them, and watching horror/disaster films and playthroughs of horror games.

Maybe one day I would, but not at this particular time, sorry!

Thanks for asking as this is a bit of a grey type area! Personally, I think that as long as this is purely for your own use and you aren't going to on-sell it in any way...then it should be ok. I'm going to categorise something like this as somewhat similar to say...people printing out my art to stick to their wall type thing. Of course, if you ended up buying a bunch and then thought oh i have so many extra I'll sell them to whoever wants them - that would be a no no.

In what capacity lol if there's something I've learned from real life it's never agree or disagree to anything without knowing specifics. Eg if you would like to use my art as a PFP on tumblr then you can if you credit it, but if you want to use my art as a face claim for your own charac then i would have to say no, etc.

That makes two of us as i am not familiar with the twisted wonderland universe :P

.D: Diasomnia

Izm: Pomefiore

Wei Ren: Ignihyde

Zeke: Savanaclaw

Marcus: Diasomnia

I never really specified one so my friends and I have been calling it the fictional city of Hedone lol.

I haven't given up on HH, i just dont draw it nearly as much since i'm focussing on developing BP :) Anyway HH wasn't seriously planned to be a comic or anything (though technically...it does have a very loose storyline that I've alluded to in some drawings |D ) so it's something I can just jump back into and doodle whenever i feel like.

This was from a while back

It's pretty straightforward HH is a slice of life 'verse where my main characs are in an all boy's boarding school and Rire is the headmaster. It focuses on the boys shenanigans though so if you specifically like Rire you will be disappointed as he's barely in it.

I cut off this post cos I dont think the stuff in it should be shared with other random people even though anon is on anon. If this is you anon i hope you are doing well and i would genuinely encourage you to talk to someone about certain things (like a therapist maybe).

[beneathsilverstars]

what does the party think of loop being a different siffrin. like why theyre here. likee do they think loop is a siffrin who.. succeeded? a siffrin who died?

[context: Dagger Ending AU]

Ooh yes. Here's everyone's theories from the first week or two, and what Loop had to say about them!

They've all discussed their theories together (though with some details omitted when Bonnie's there), and they have varying opinions on each other's, but they mostly stick to arguing their own if just because they have a clandestine bet going on. Maybe a little gauche, but sometimes you need to lighten the mood by acting the same way you do for sillier topics.

Bonnie's theory: Siffrin asked the stars for a friend.

Bonnie's story is inspired by some fairytales they were told when they were younger. Those fairytales were inspired by stories from the forgotten island, so Bonnie's version here actually brings it closer to the originals again! Though of course, with a Vaugardian twist.

Bonnie says: Siffrin was worried about being left alone, so since he really likes the stars for some reason, he asked the stars to be his friend forever. So one of the stars came down to be with him! But obviously a dot of light wouldn't make a very good friend, so they had to Change to be a person — and a dot of light that isn't a person yet wouldn't know how to Change right yet, so they just cheated and copied Siffrin. But it's impossible to Change to be exactly like another person, you can only ever be a new version of yourself, so that's why Loop isn't the exact same as Siffrin.

Bonnie: I know you don't want to explain to us why there's two of you, and why you're not a— you're... more different than people can normally be, but if I tell you my thee-ry, will you at least just say if I'm right? Loop: Hm... Probably not. Loop: But you should tell me anyway! [Bonnie explains their theory.] Loop: Aw! That's a very cute story~ [Loop's smile becomes more forced.] Loop: That is all I am, aren't I? A star friend for pooor little Siffrin, so he doesn't have to be all alone? Bonnie: I knew it!!! Bonnie: Do you miss being a normal star, up in the sky? [Loop takes a deep breath.] Loop: I miss a lot of things. But I asked to be here. Bonnie: Oh! Did you ask for a friend, too? It would make sense for the stars to pick you to send, if you were lonely too. Loop: ... I did! You're very good at this. Bonnie: Of course I am!!! Loop: You know, you should tell your story to stardust. I think they'll like it better than I do. [Bonnie runs off to tell Siffrin about it, and then to tell the other adults that Loop said they were totally right.]

Isabeau's theory: Loop is a sadness made out of Siffrin's self-hatred and loneliness.

There's stories about people finding "their" sadness that mirrors them exactly, including both fiction that uses it as a metaphor for inner battles, and folktales that claim to be true. Isabeau used to not believe the folktales at all, because they vary so wildly, and surely one single person's emotions couldn't be strong enough to make a sadness as sapient as some of the stories claim — no sadnesses are that clever, not even the big powerful ones that are made out of so many people's emotions that they aren't even vaguely human-shaped.

But, now, well... If it is possible, it's hard to find any negative emotions stronger than the reasons someone tried to kill themself. And it's undeniable that Loop seems to be closer to a sadness in physiology than they are to any living creature.

Plus, there could very well be some other factor that pushed Loop into full personhood! Some of the stories include the sadness feeding on its originator until the person wastes away and the sadness takes their place, which is far-fetched, but so is this whole situation. Or, animating a statue kind of involves putting a bit of yourself into it — your craft energy, your intentions — so perhaps Siffrin had put a lot of themself into Loop, in a way that isn't possible with something nonliving. It would explain the craft exhaustion, too, if Siffrin had fueled Loop's becoming in some way or another.

Isabeau: Bonnie said you said they were right. That you're a star sent to be Sif's friend. Loop: I'm sure they did. Isabeau: ... But it's not true, right? [Loop looks away.] Loop: ... I didn't actually tell them it was. I didn't lie to them. Just... parts of it. Isabeau: Parts of it were true? Isabeau: Which parts? Loop: ... What do you think? Isabeau: Well, it would depend on exactly how they worded it, wouldn't it? They keep changing their mind on the details. Loop: What do you think, then? Isabeau: About… Loop: Me. Isabeau: Right. [Isabeau makes a face.] Isabeau: I... don't know that it would do any good to tell you. Loop: Wow, that bad, huh? Now I have to hear it. Isabeau: Just, promise you won't take it the wrong way? [Loop squints at him.] Loop: I'll take it whatever way I want. Isabeau: Alright, fair enough. Alright. But, whether or not my theory is true, that doesn't change how I think about you, okay? You're a person, and you're our friend, and I'm glad you're here with us. Loop: Just get on with it, Fighter. Isabeau: Yeah, yeah, alright. Isabeau: It’s... I think you might be a sadness? [Loop gasps dramatically.] Loop: Ooooh, how could you~? Isabeau: There would definitely have to be more to it. You are a person, and you're stable, Sif's moods don't affect you any more than they do the rest of us. But... you're not human. You don't need to sleep, you can't eat, you're just... not made out of living stuff? But you're not artificial either, you're not an inanimate thing that's been crafted to move. You're alive! And there's only one sort of... being... that I know of, that's alive but not living. And, well... Sif...... Loop: ... They were so very, very sad. Isabeau: Yeah. Loop: Well! It does make sense! Loop: Of course you'd go for the depressing, realistic answer! Loop: You're entirely wrong, of course, but... Loop: I... [Loop looks down at their hands.] [They move their hands up, to grip their arms.] Isabeau: Sorry. I knew you wouldn't like it. I swear it really, really doesn't matter, okay? However you... got here... you're here now, and you're you, and we're glad of it. Loop: ... Isabeau: I'll go see if Bonbon needs any help with dinner.

Mirabelle's theory: Siffrin killed himself, and he both got brought back to life and lived on as a ghost.

To be exact, he successfully(-ish?) committed suicide when he said he was going to go take a nap in the meadow. She thinks it's an earlier attempt rather than the one Odile saw because: Siffrin had originally told Isabeau he wanted to talk again with someone he'd spoken to the day before — which could only have happened earlier in the day, because Siffrin was never left alone later — and while that could be a lie it also explains how Siffrin knew that Loop was at the favor tree at all; Odile mentioned how confident and unflinching he was about it, which could be explained by having done it before; and everyone agrees that the recent changes in Siffrin started, though more subtly, after the nap in particular.

Siffrin not dying from his late afternoon attempt isn't necessarily as much of a factor — Vaugardian ghost lore includes stories of people being haunted by earlier versions of themselves that they’d Changed away from, so there’s precedence for living people having ghosts. Of course this means there are other major Changes besides death (or deciding to die) that can create a ghost, but the other ways Siffrin has changed don't seem quite dramatic enough in the right way to have been the catalyst. In fact, it’s strange than Loop seems to be the more Changed of the two! But perhaps pre-Dormont Siffrin actually was more like Loop and just hid it better, or perhaps Siffrin used to be more like Loop at an earlier point in their life, and had somewhat Changed but not enough to be happy with themself. Either way, any of Loop's traits that post-Dormont Siffrin doesn't seem to share much at all would be parts of themself that pre-Dormont Siffrin "killed".

Mirabelle: Loop... You don't have to answer if you don't want to, but... Are you a ghost? Loop: You know, stardust guessed the same thing! And I told them... Well, I don't remember anymore. Something about the Favor Tree being my grave? Loop: Anyway, you could sort of say that! Except, how could I be his ghost when he didn't actually die? You made sure of that. Mirabelle: Well... I thought maybe... Mirabelle: Maybe Siffrin did kill themself? Before that? And you're the parts of Siffrin that they killed, but you stayed because... because you still had things to get done, or Siffrin still needed you, or… or something like that...? Loop: HA! Loop: Yeah, something like that!!! [Loop laughs hysterically for a bit, then suddenly stops.] Loop: ... Go away, Housemaiden. [Mirabelle leaves to fetch Siffrin.] [While she's gone, Loop leaves the camp.] [Siffrin finds them and brings them back several hours later.]

Odile's theory: Siffrin wished for a companion.

The final loop through the house didn't include either of the forgotten language books on wish craft, but it did include discussion of the impossibility of time craft, and the diary where a lonely person wished for a copy of themself. Odile initially dismissed the diary as creative fiction, but it was still fresh on her mind when she met Loop later that day!

During the next couple days in Dormont, she asked Euphrasie about how she crafted Mirabelle's blessing, because she loves cutting-edge craft. The conversation turned to the King's impossible time craft, and Euphrasie said she thinks he probably used wish craft. She explained that she doesn't know much because it's hard to find anything more than brief mentions of it, but she's confident it's real. She's pretty sure you need to do very particular things in order to use it, though — not any old wish will do — and she doesn't know what those things are. But it's probably the only way the King could have gotten the power to stop time, and there's a chance that the people of Vaugarde’s wishes for salvation contributed to his defeat (but she's not sure because who knows if anyone actually wished the right away).

Now, knowing that wish craft could be real… it’s strange to think that Siffrin might know about something basically unheard of. But they did know about the orrery in the house, and caring about stars is basically unheard of, too! And… Loop says they’re a star… and the King has stars on his armor….. And it’s risky to use one guess as evidence for another, but that could be three instances where the shape or knowledge of stars appeared alongside the use or knowledge of wish craft. And Siffrin spoke to Loop at the Favor Tree, and supposedly that’s where they spoke the day before too, and a Favor Tree is a place where you ask for something you want.

Siffrin’s craft exhaustion could be a point for or against; on one hand, making a copy of yourself must be powerful craft, but on the other hand, wish craft was what allowed the King to perform craft so strenuous that it should’ve instantly killed him. Plus, Siffrin’s exhaustion didn’t hit till at least a full day after they went to the Favor Tree alone the first time. So Odile doesn’t know enough to call that factor either way.

And why would Siffrin try to kill themself shortly after their wish came true? Was it just not everything they hoped it would be? Siffrin and Loop fight a lot, but they obviously care for each other a lot, too… But maybe even getting something they really wanted could make a depressed person feel worse, if it doesn't help as much as they hoped it would, and they decide that means they’re hopeless.

Odile decided on this theory by day three. There are other mysteries that aren’t as neatly explained by it, like the ease with which Siffrin navigated the house, but perhaps they’d made a second wish? Or perhaps that was the influence of the Vaugardian wishes that Euphrasie talked about? And over the following weeks, Siffrin’s behavior has only gotten stranger, in worrying, unexplainable ways. Odile is finding many different pieces to an unknown number of puzzles… but she’s fairly certain she’s got a good start on the Loop corner.

Loop: Well, Researcher? Everyone else has told me their theories on what and how and why I am. What's yours? Odile: I was wondering when you’d ask. My best theory is that Siffrin made a wish — for a friend who wouldn’t leave him, or someone who understood what he felt, or something along those lines — and your existence was the answer. Loop: … Loop: Same story as the Kid, huh? Odile: You did say that they got parts of it right. Loop: It just seems a bit unrealistic for you, Researcher~ Stardust wished for a friend and one just fell out of the sky? Odile: Your entire existence is unrealistic, Loop. But if a craft has the power to freeze an entire country in time, surely it also has the power to create life. Or split it, perhaps. Loop: … But the king used time craft. What does that have to do with wish craft? Odile: The Head Housemaiden of Dormont believes wish craft is what gave him the power to stop time. Loop. W- How does she know about wish craft?? Odile: How do you, Loop? Loop: The— It’s— [Odile waits patiently.] Loop: The book! The, the diary, in that room, with the— the thing for the stars. It talked about wish craft. Odile: Ah, of course. The diary of a person who felt lonely and misunderstood, so they used wish craft to make a copy of themself. The diary you’ve never seen, because you… branched off, let’s say, the day before we fought through the House. Loop: Stardust told me about it! Odile: Of course. You know, they remember a surprising amount about the House? It's been several weeks, and you'd think between the traumatic injury the day before and the fevers afterwards, even the average person would consider it all a bit of a blur. But they still remember details that the others have forgotten, about conversations it seemed they were barely paying attention to. Even one or two things that I don't remember at all. [Loop breathes shallowly.] Loop: W— What are you implying? Odile: Nothing in particular. However shaky the wish craft theory seems, I'm even less sure about everything else. Loop: Well, you should be! Because there is nothing else! [Odile sighs.] Odile: I'm sorry, I know you don't want us knowing about these things. You and Siffrin both. But he's... not doing well. [Loop looks away.] Odile: And frankly, I don't think you are, either. But we can't help if we don't know what the problem is! It's your choice not to tell us, but I'm not going to stop trying to figure it out. Loop: It doesn't matter! The other things. He has you now, all four of you. You're helping. They'll be okay. Odile: What about you, Loop? Loop: ... I'm helping too. I'm trying. I'm here to help them. Odile: Loop... [Odile is about to say something, but stops. She takes a deep breath before continuing.] Odile: It would help a great deal if you and he could be more open with us. Loop: ... Odile: Can I take this as confirmation of my theory, at least? Loop: ... Not quite. Odile: But I'm close. [Loop doesn't claim otherwise.]

[katyawriteswhump]

love and other catastrophes at the omega cafe (1/8)

So I posted about this idea before here, (and was overwhelmed by the response—thank you!) but basically a cat café opened near me and inspired this:

Summary: Steve is a runaway Omega who gets a job at an Omega café, where he’s basically paid to curl up and purr in Alphas’ laps. It’s legal, and he earns a living, rents his own place. He’s getting along fine for a packless Omega. Then Alpha rockstar Eddie Munson turns up for an hour of ‘kitty’ petting, and shatters Steve’s fragile little world…

Rating: M (will be E); No major warnings; Tags: omega steve, alpha eddie, a/b/o dynamics, fluff and angst; (It won't get tooooo angsty, I promise, and I should probably write a shorter version, but this seemed to want to get bedded in for some plot, so...) read on A03 and thank you @lexirosewrites for being so patient with my weird belated questions about what do with my idea!

🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛

Chapter 1

Steve clocked in with Carol at the coffee counter and cosied up on a beanbag waiting for the first customer to arrive. He couldn’t stop yawning and struggled to keep his eyes open.

He didn’t usually work the Monday morning graveyard shift at ‘Kitties’—otherwise known as the Omega Café. Carol usually put him on the weekends, which were their busiest times. Plenty of Alphas—and sometimes Betas—were free then, to pass an hour with a cute Omega purring in their lap.

For a cost, naturally.

Steve, though, had called in sick yesterday and needed to make up his lost earnings. He’d been in heat. So, three days of cold sweats, congealed slick, and crippling cramps. At least the blockers he used for this job curbed his desperation to be fucked. All the same, a dull gnawing pain in his pelvis persisted, he’d barely slept and…

…Ugh, this beanbag was, if anything, too inviting and soft.

He’d gotten his most comfy, stretchy shorts on, his most butter-soft collar, and an only-slightly-cropped-at-the-midriff vest. His feet were bare, which was fortunate. Right now, only his icicle toes were keeping him awake. He was tempted to grab one of the many fluffy blankets scattered around the café, pull it up over him and snooze.

He was torn between asking Carol for a double espresso or napping—to be fair, it was unlikely anybody would join them till noon—when the bell on the door tinkled.

So much for a peaceful snooze.

Fortunately, rather than a hungover Alpha, Robin burst in. On spotting Steve, her shoulders sagged with obvious relief. She hurried up to the counter and presented Carol with her Apple-Pay. “Flat white with an extra shot, and an hour of kitty cuddles, please.”

“Sure.” The payment bleeped through, and Carol turned to grind the coffee beans. She never bothered with great customer service for Steve’s best friend. That said, customer service wasn’t Carol’s strength at the best of times. Steve liked that about her. For an Omega, she was a bitey feral, and she sure had their boss, Tommy, under her claw.

Robin sat down at a table, pulled a cushion onto her lap. Steve shuffled over on his knees and laid his head on the cushion:

“Jesus, Robin,” he whispered, as she started to pet his hair. It was usual practice for Omegas to wait till the customer spoke first, but this was, well, Robin. “You don’t have to pay to see me, you know that?”

“Apparently, I do, Dingus! I’ve been going out of my mind! Why didn’t you return my, like, billion texts?”

“Shit. Sorry.” Her fretful pettings only made him feel more guilty. “I’m out of data, and you know how shit Wi-Fi is in Sunshine Village. Plus, I had really bad cramps this month—I could barely crawl out of bed this morning.”

“Yeah, I guessed that. God, I’m sorry, too.” She slowed her strokes, as they both relaxed a little. “I worry about you all the time, living there. Working here. I wish I could take you home with me. Damn, I should rent somewhere you’re actually allowed to live.”

“No way. I’m fine, Robin. Seriously, I’ve landed on my feet. I like having my own little home. The heating is working in my block this week, and this is a pretty cushy gig.”

Steve didn’t even say that for the benefit of Carol, who’d just dumped Robin’s coffee on the table, slopping half of it into the saucer.

Steve had arrived in the city four months ago, down to his last few dollars. He’d soon realized that acceptable Omega jobs—teaching assistant, nanny, seamstress, junior positions in retail and catering—would all require handing over too much information about himself. He’d also swiftly discovered that Sunshine Village, the district he’d heard about where single Omegas could live unmolested, was little better than a slum.

He’d been caught between the terrifying choices of fleeing back home, starving, or sex work. Then he’d stumbled across this place.

If Tommy had checked the fake name Steve gave, he hadn’t cared. Steve got paid in cash after each shift and earned enough to rent a small place in the Village. Which, despite its shabbiness, turned out to be full of friendly, supportive Omegas.

It all meant he didn’t have to worry about Robin being evicted from her pleasant ‘beta’ neighbourhood for harbouring an unregistered Omega.

Robin chatted on, while sipping the remnants of her coffee and petting Steve idly. While she complained about how unfair the world was for Omegas—they’d met when Steve had turned up at an Omega soup-kitchen she volunteered at—her speech also underlined his point.

His life could be a shitload worse.

This morning, he was being paid for his best friend to give him much-needed bodily contact in a no-strings-attached fashion. While he didn’t have to force fake purrs for her, like he did for the majority of customers, soft sleepy purring happened anyhow.

After Robin left for work, the café was empty again. Carol made them both hot chocolate then turned her attention to doing her nails. Steve breakfasted on an out-of-date lemon muffin, which was still nice and gooey in the middle, then slipped out to the washroom for the second time since Robin left. He needed to re-check his hair.

He was reapplying his eyeliner, when he heard the bell tinkle again.

So much for the ‘graveyard’ shift. He pinched his pale cheeks, bracing himself to face whoever wanted to cuddle him next.

A high-pitched squeal from Carol pierced Steve’s hearing—one that was probably only audible to other Omegas.

And the scent snatched his breath.

The Omega café was flushed with scent-neutralising air fresheners, for obvious reasons. Whoever this Alpha was, his musk was potent enough to punch straight through. It nearly floored Steve with low notes of leather and woodsmoke, and high notes of… Christ, Steve didn’t know what that was.

Plums? Fine Californian wine?

It set his mouth watering, for all of a split second.

Carol! Was she okay?

He rushed from the washroom and peeped from behind a thick velour curtain.

Carol was fine. She was taking payment from an Alpha with long, slightly-frizzy retro hair, a jean jacket—who the fuck wore those?—and dark soulful eyes.

Steve’s heart rate spiked.

The Alpha was pretty damn good-looking, and young too, maybe only a year or so older than Steve.

He was also faintly familiar.

Did Steve know him from back home? Would he recognise Steve?

“So, how does this work?” asked the newcomer. His drawling accent sent a shiver down Steve’s spine that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. His voice was as sexy as the rest of him… and that definitely wasn’t a North County accent. Steve relaxed slightly, ogling the guy who was literally setting both his and Carol’s legs wobbling.

“You pay up front for an hour of kitty cuddles,” she said. “You have to order a minimum of one drink, and all new customers must read and sign our rules and disclaimers.”

“Ma’am, it’s Monday morning.” The Alpha sounded wearily amused, gesturing to the three-page fine-print document she shoved across the counter. “Do I really have to read all this?”

“How about I summarize for you.” Yup, Carol was being helpful and polite. Either someone kidnapped the real Carol, or this Alpha really was special. “You’re not about to go into rut, I take it? Because if you are, Sir, I’m really, really sorry—we can’t take that risk here, or we could get shut down.”

The Alpha shook his head. While Carol reeled off a few pertinent points—“no scenting, obviously. No kissing,”—his gaze snapped onto where Steve skulked, half-hidden behind the drapes.

Steve jumped back out of sight.

“Soooo,” said the Alpha, when Carol finally stopped talking. “To summarise—I can stroke the pussies, but I can’t stroke the pussies?”

Carol giggled. Though they’d all heard that joke, and every variation on it, at least a billion times.

“Pretty much,” she said. “We’re absolutely NOT a brothel. And don’t expect cat-ears and whiskers and all that jazz. Thursday is usually full-costume night, and… erm, right now, we only have one kitty, and he seems to have strayed. Boy kitty okay with you?”

“Yes, thank you, Ma’am,” said the Alpha.

“Cool. I’ll go coax him out with a saucer of milk or something.”

She found Steve backed up against the dingy back-corridor wall, knees basically jello. “Get out there! Christ, you do realize who that is?”

Steve shook his head, throat too tight to speak. He honestly didn’t know what was wrong with him. Alphas moseyed in and out of this place every day. He was usually able to keep himself together.

“It’s Eddie Munson! Lead singer of Corroded Coffin? Super-hot and super-famous bad-boy Alpha rockstar? Jeeees, you really did live in a box till you got here, didn’t you? Look, get out there—before I tell him boy kitty is off the menu, grab my skimpiest bikini, and burrow into that scorching lap myself.”

She nudged him through the curtain. Eddie Munson had already settled onto one of the cafe’s roomiest couches, arms splayed along the back.

Legs splayed too.

Eddie glanced up and those gorgeous eyes raked Steve, head-to-toe, stripping him so bare he might as well have forgotten his shorts. The Alpha’s grin spread slowly, revealing glinting incisors, and creasing up into the sexiest dimples Steve had ever seen.

Steve wasn’t sure how he made it across the room. Somehow, he did, shuffling the final few feet on his knees.

“Hello, Kitty,” said Eddie. Possibly taking pity, he closed his legs. He shoved his thighs forward so Steve could easily lay his head in them.

Steve did so, facing out across the café. His heart skittered like a little prey animal’s. It was only then that he realized Eddie hadn’t placed a cushion on his thighs. Well, if Carol hadn’t highlighted that part of the rules, Steve was hardly in a position to do it now.

Eddie didn’t mess around. Strong fingers plowed straight into the springy mass of Steve’s hair. “What’s your name, Honey?”

“Uh… St-steve?”

Who fucking stammers answering his own name?

“Hi, Steve. I’m Eddie.” He leaned a little closer, hot breath joining those strong fingers to send Steve even deeper into fluster. “How do you put up with the stink in here? I mean, I get it. All those Alpha-Omega scents battering each other would make this place a real fleshpot. Shame, though. I bet you smell real sweet. I mean, I think I get a whiff of you, even now.”

“You get used to it,” squeaked Steve, cutting that line of conversation off pronto.

“You get used to the diabolical plinky-plonky piano music too, Steve?”

“Honestly, I don’t even hear it anymore.”

To be fair, Steve didn’t hate the perpetual loop of movie theme-tune classics for exactly that reason. Even the smoochiest love songs—like the instrumental version of “Everything I do, I do it for you,” currently playing—didn’t mess with his emotions in the way music so often did.

Eddie snorted a dry chuckle, leaning back against the cushions again. Steve’s eyes fluttered closed.

“You’re right, Steve,” drawled Eddie, massaging deliciously into Steve’s scalp, “it’s pretty easy not to hear it. You have got the cutest purr.”

Steve’s eyes flew wide. He hadn’t even realized he was purring yet! Yeah, he could fake purr, but he’d been too befuddled to get to that. Now, he shook with loud rattling purrs that he could barely control.

Omegas purred when they were happy and relaxed, and also when distressed, to comfort themselves. He’d been reduced to that over the weekend. These purrs, though, grew couch-quakingly loud and felt different from anyway he’d purred before.

“You okay there, Honey?” Thank heavens Eddie was nice, though that made Steve’s weirdness all the more inexplicable. Eddie ran the back of coolish fingers down Steve’s burning cheek.

“I’m sorry,” whispered Steve. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” His hormones must still be doing weird things after his chemically fucked-up heat.

He probably should’ve called in sick today too.

“Don’t apologise,” Eddie said. “Look, it’s freakin’ Monday morning. I’m the weirdo Alpha checking this place out. You’re just doing your job, and you’re mighty fine at it, I’m sure.” The words washed through Steve, their brutal truth leaving an awkward residue. “Listen, I’m just gonna sip my coffee and chill. You reckon you can chill too, little kitty?”

“Yes, Alpha,” murmured Steve. The preening growl that jostled from Eddie was enough to make Steve desperate to obey.

He didn’t usually call anybody Alpha on the job. It wasn’t strictly against the rules, but unless a client demanded it—and only the real a-holes did—the kitties avoided it.

Eddie, though, had dragged it from Steve before he could think about it, much like those purrs.

And much like how, a minute or so of petting later, Steve found himself purring effortlessly, and totally relaxed. He wasn’t even stressed by the fact that his cheek rested dangerously close to Eddie’s Alpha dick. Which appeared to be ballooning slightly beneath his thick pair of sweatpants.

This was exactly why the cushions were compulsory. Though Steve barely had time to worry.

“Steve,” said Eddie, fingering around the edge of Steve’s collar in a fashion that literally made Steve’s eyes cross with yumminess. “Are there any rules against you getting in my lap for proper cuddles?”

“No. Absolutely not.” There really wasn’t, though of course, it only worked with the larger Alphas. There’d been no way Steve could’ve fitted into a Beta like Robin’s lap, for example, without some level of squishing. Eddie was, to be fair, not the largest Alpha around, but he was certainly large enough.

After some not-too-awkward manoeuvring—and guided by Eddie’s hand in the small of his back—Steve soon found himself sitting across Eddie’s lap. Eddie scooped him close, and his arms curled around Eddie’s neck.

He stared point-blank into the fathomless depths of Eddie’s dark eyes. Nope. Too much. He dipped his gaze, then squeaked. Now, he fixed on Eddie’s jawline and throat, dusted with scruff, and which drew him like, well, catnip.

Steve inhaled oaky-smoky plums and… Holy crap, what even was that? He was in serious danger of burying his face there and violating the no-scenting rule himself.

Once again, Eddie sensed his discomfort and guided Steve’s head down onto his shoulder, holding him there. “Hey, any chance of another coffee,” Eddie called to Carol. “Extra-large mocha with marshmallows, please, Ma’am? Think I might be settling here for a while.”

After that, Eddie appeared to go out of his way to make Steve even more comfortable. Perhaps noting Steve’s squirmings over getting too close to his scent gland, he slid a thin throw cushion beneath Steve’s cheek. He then settled them both back against the comfiest, most enveloping part of the sofa. He pulled one of those fluffy blankets up over them both. Soon, a floaty weariness, bone-deep but pleasant, overcame Steve.

Even his ovaries had stopped bugging him. God, this was nice. He really got paid for this? Damn, he’d fallen on his feet and Eddie smelled divine. He couldn’t help but daydream about that huge Alpha dick nestled stupid-close to his pussy, with only two layers of fabric between them. He was too sleepy to get too excited, tho’. He soon floated on the surface of a calm ocean, safe and serene…

When Steve began waking up, a honeyed glow saturated his head and heart and previously aching pelvis. He couldn’t remember his dreams, but they must’ve been good ones. He felt complete and happy and… he flicked his eyes open. Oh shit! The cafe buzzed with conversation. Several other kitties had come on shift and were snuggling with Alphas.

He’d fallen asleep on a customer’s lap.

Steve’s focus snapped onto the clock behind the counter, where Carol and her assistant, Chrissy, who also did kitty duties, were rushing around making lunches.

1.57 pm.

He’d been asleep on the job for nearly three hours.

Asleep in the lap of…

“Hey there,” drawled Eddie, “somebody’s a sleepy kitty.”

Steve daren’t look up. Was Eddie pissed? He didn’t sound it.

Steve opened his mouth. Shut it again, dabbing the corner. His head had slipped off the pillow and rested against Eddie’s chest. The Alpha’s booming heartbeat mingled with an amused chuckle.

Steve wasn’t laughing: “Oh shit, I’m so sorry. I drooled on your t-shirt!”

“I know.” Eddie’s low rumbling sigh was one of the most contented sounds Steve had ever heard. “You gonna charge extra for that, Honey?”

🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛ I have got quite a bit of this fic drafted, so hopefully more soon. If you’re enjoying, please let me know, or like and reblog... it means a lot to know somebody would like to read more *purrs hopefully* and thank you soooo much for reading this far 💚

[malevoreenthusiast]

Parasocial Predator

Hey all! Had this idea earlier and quickly wrote this out. The celebrity I used is Alec Benjamin (a pop artist you should definitely check out), but they’re really interchangeable with any other celebrity. As always, send any requests you may have and let me know how I can improve! Enjoy.

The first thing I need to get out of the way is that in no way is this a parasocial relationship. Alec knows who I am: he’s liked my comments on his posts, I met him at a meet and greet once, and he’s seen me drive through his neighborhood a couple of times when I make sure he stays safe. One time, Alec even responded to one of my comments on Instagram with, “I love you, thanks for the support!” which validates that, in fact, this is a very real relationship that Alec and I have forged over the past several years. He knows who I am—his number one fan—and I know he loves me. Unfortunately, as a celebrity, he can’t show that, so that brings us to today. My plan, which will go off without a hitch, is to meet Alec in his tour bus in order to charm him and finally get together with him.

I’ve followed him on tour, eventually picking out his tour buses on the road and the one in which he stayed after several weeks. It was early afternoon, and he was supposed to perform tonight at a sold out show. He was such a rockstar. That’ll be the second thing I do: congratulate him for being so great. First though, I wanted to ask which of his songs I’ve inspired because I can think of at least ten. He really is such a charmer. A huge portion of the fanbase doesn’t deserve to listen to him and how great he is, which is really unfortunate because Alec is too nice to tell them otherwise. Still, I’ve got a plan to sweep him off his feet and have us be together forever.

I waited quietly in the back of the bus. Alec and his team had stopped at a rest stop somewhere off a highway to go to the bathroom and get snacks and stretch their legs before finishing the journey. This absence from the bus meant that I could easily sneak on when nobody was looking. Honestly, I think Alec knew I would be coming because he left his sweatshirt for me on the seat of the bus. I put it on and took a deep whiff, smelling him so purely that I sighed in deep, deep pleasure. I got lost in his scent so much that I didn’t even notice Alec get back on the bus before anyone else.

“Who are you?” he asked, uncertainty in his voice. I knew he was cheeky, but playing this hard to get so early? Come on, sweetie, you can do better than that!

“Alec!” I bellowed and raced towards him in a hug. “It’s good to see you, gosh, you look so much better in person up-close,” I brushed his hair back and held him close to me. He gave me a wide-eyed look, probably in shock because he didn’t expect to meet me so soon. I get it, though, and I wasn’t going to hold it against him. I would be at a loss for words too if I had suddenly met the love of my life on the tour bus.

I positioned myself at the entrance to the bus so nobody could get in and come between us. Alec’s eyes shifted out the curtained windows, most likely making sure that nobody would see us in this illicit relationship. All of Alec’s trashy fans would probably get too jealous, so it only makes sense that he would make sure that no one else was around who could witness this. The next thing he did was somewhat confusing, but he brought out his phone and dialed a number. I could see he was shaking a little, and my fierce protectiveness for Alec kicked in. I strode up quickly to my beloved and snatched the phone out of his hand. He was calling his security (probably to make sure no one attacked us while we were in here), and he was scared as a lamb! 

“Oh, Alec,” I hugged him tight, smelling him more closely now, “it’s okay, let me take care of you. Here, I have just the thing.”

Now, before I tell you what I was about to do, let me explain myself. Alec is an amazing singer/songwriter, and the world doesn’t appreciate him as well as I do. Alec is also on the smaller side, so many dangerous things could hurt him and impact his ability to do what he most loves after me: music. To this end, I thought: “what better way to protect my love than keep him close to me at all times?” So, on that thought, I kissed him softly on the mouth and stretched my jaw over and around his head. He instantly started wildly thrashing, probably because my baby was excited to be in my stomach. I gulped heavily, bunching his shoulders up and sending them down my gullet. I could feel him yell with what I assumed was pleasure and excitement at being in his new boyfriend’s belly. My saliva soaked through his clothes, as admittedly, I had been wanting to do this for several years now, ever since I first saw him in concert. Now that my dreams had come true and he wanted to be in a relationship with me, I could finally do this! I swallowed again, sending Alec’s small torso down into my mouth. He really wasn’t that big (which is why he needed someone larger than him—me—to protect him), but he fit perfectly in my gut. I could already feel his head and shoulders spill into my stomach chamber, which felt really nice. Alec was wriggling already from the inside of my gut, unable to keep his excitement in, most likely. I choked down more of him quickly, as the position he was in was probably making some blood rush towards his head, and I was not going to facilitate any misfortune upon my sweet angel of a boyfriend. Slurping up his legs like noodles, I took off Alec’s shoes and gulped the rest of the singer into my stomach. It ballooned out heavily, but my six pack was something I was more than okay with parting with if it meant I got to be next to Alec at all times of the day. Alec’s sweatshirt clung on to my chest, but my belly was now far too big to be contained by the piece of clothing. Still, I wore it happily, knowing it was a gift from Alec.

“What are you doing?” Alec shouted from inside. “Let me go! Please!” 

I rubbed my belly and wore a pained expression. My sweet angel didn’t realize that this was for the best for him right now. Even though Alec was squirming around, making the heft of my gut sway and wobble slightly, I couldn’t help but notice how wonderfully he looked attached to my middle. Though, all of his movements were kicking up a lot of gas.

BBBUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPP “---Sweetheart, please,” I chided. “Calm down in there. Let’s get you back home, okay?”

Some of you may believe that moving in together this soon is a little crazy, and to that I’d simply tell you that you don’t understand the bond Alec and I share. We’re (quite literally) inseparable. I got back into my car that I used to follow him on the road, and, somewhat uncomfortably, I maneuvered around my seat until my belly wasn't pressing up against the steering wheel. This would probably have to be how I drove from now on, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Love is full of sacrifices, you know. I spoke to Alec softly on the way home, asking him about his life so far, childhood memories, and all of the mundane, beautiful things about living. He seemed reluctant to answer, but I chalked that up to him being tired from a long day. Now that he was in my warm, comforting belly though, he would be able to rest peacefully and sleep as much as he wanted. 

Along the drive home, I bought some McDonalds, which wasn’t the healthiest for my baby, but on the road, you make do. I swallowed a few of the burgers whole, wrapper and all so Alec could have some dinner in his own tummy while I had mine already in there. Thinking about it now, it would be a little uncomfortable for Alec to be with me while I digested my other food (that’s what happened with my old roommate. He didn’t want Alec living with us, so he had to go), but again, love requires sacrifices. My belly was really noisy with the sounds of gurgling and churning, but I knew Alec wouldn’t digest. Still, that didn’t mean my belly didn’t want to assimilate him into my body. He was simply too important to digest, though. An idle hand rubbed my boyfriend-filled belly for the rest of the night-ride home with pure love and affection.

Getting back to my apartment, I undressed and flopped onto bed with Alec. The movement jostled my stomach heavily, waking him back up. I think he was having a bad dream about being captive and kidnapped, which frightened me tremendously, but that is precisely why Alec is safer in my stomach than the real world. People are crazy out there, and it could’ve easily happened to Alec. I rubbed my belly soothingly and told him time and time again that this was where he belonged, that I would treat him right, and no harm would come to him. Eventually, I drifted off to sleep, kissing my own belly and looking forward to Alec and I’s new life together.

[prythiansprincess]

CHAPTER THREE

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🤎 pairing: azriel x reader.

🤎 song inspiration: black out days by phantogram.

🤎 author’s note: happy monday! I hope you all enjoy x

The night before journeying to the Autumn Court, Rhys asked you to meet him at the House of Wind. You were halfway through packing when a knock at the door interrupted your progress. It wasn’t much of a process since your definition of the act consisted of haphazardly throwing the bare essentials into a small rucksack. 

Turning your attention to the door, you lifted the wards and beckoned the familiar figure inside. Azriel’s dark hair obscured the setting sun as he stood in the doorway. Since you weren’t keen on making the trek up the ten thousand steps at the House, the High Lord sent the shadowsinger to fetch you. Neither one of you were happy about the arrangement, but you figured that you might as well get used to it since you’d be spending the next month together.

“Are you just going to stand there?” you asked while shoving a heavy cloak into your bag in preparation for the chilly nights at the Autumn Court. 

The shadowsinger said nothing as he crossed over the threshold to take in the contents of your flat. It was strange to see him inside of your home. In all the years you’ve known him, Azriel had never set foot in your flat. Since you usually met up with the others at either the House of Wind or the River House, there had never been any reason for the shadowsinger to visit your dwelling. Now that he was standing in the middle of your living room, you could see how empty and unwelcoming the space may seem from his perspective. 

The place was hardly furnished and it lacked the warmth of a personal touch. You were away on assignment more often than not so you hadn’t really bothered to decorate. Since your days of exile, the habit of only keeping the absolute necessities remained as a holdover from experiencing life on the run. All you really needed was a working bath, a semi-decent bed, and a kitchen to cook in when the mood struck. 

“Is that all you’re bringing?” Azriel asked through the open door of your bedroom. 

Just like the rest of your flat, the room was bare and empty. There was a bed and a dresser, but if it weren’t for the growing stack of books piled high on your nightstand, no one would suspect that anyone even lived here. 

“I like to pack light,” you replied defensively. “There’s no need to bring anything unnecessary.”

“That much is clear,” Azriel muttered under his breath. He inspected the velvet couch in your living room, which was still in pristine condition. “It looks like you just moved in. Haven't you owned this place for years?”

You rolled your eyes in response. For some reason, the comment brushed you the wrong way. Though you supposed that was nothing new when it came to Azriel. 

“My apologies, shadowsinger. Are my interior design capabilities not up to your standards?”

The sarcasm flew over Azriel’s head as he scanned the walls, frowning when he found it devoid of decorations. “It just seems a little barren.”

“It’s a flat, not a palace.” You replied rather sharply. “As long as I have a place to sleep, that’s good enough for me.” 

Azriel tutted in disapproval before he weaved his way into the kitchen. You tracked him underneath the archway, his wings tucked tightly behind his back as he picked up the one sentimental item in your possession. 

In his hands, the shadowsinger held an enchanted painting of you, Rhys, and Serena. Your friend was smiling with her wings spread proudly while both her and Rhys sandwiched you in between them. In the center, you tipped your head back in laughter. You thought you saw the ghost of a smile forming on Azriel’s lips before you snatched the keepsake out of his hands. 

“Don’t touch that,” you reprimanded. “Do me a favor and stop snooping. I’m almost done packing.”

As carefully as you could manage, you set the painting back to its rightful place and ignored the gaze burning into your side. You could practically hear the onslaught of questions that the shadowsinger was dying to ask as you surveyed Serena’s smile. It was that same smile that had saved you all those years ago.

After you left the Autumn Court, you were forced to roam through Prythian alone. At first, you were able to scrape by working odd jobs as a barmaid or innkeeper, but with the war waging through the courts, the opportunities dwindled down to nothing. 

Driven by desperation, you found yourself foraging for food near the Night Court’s war camps. You came across their supplies and rationalized that they wouldn’t miss an apple or two. You’ve always been quick and stealthy, but Serena had the advantage of her wings. She spotted you almost immediately, but instead of turning you over to her father, Serena took you to her mother and brother. With Rhysand’s help, they offered you a place in the camps. A refuge from your exiled existence. 

With Rhys and Serena, you weren’t a Thorne. You weren’t a young acolyte fleeing from her future as the Autumn Court’s next High Priestess. You weren’t the weapon that Beron honed you into. 

You were just you. 

You found family in Rhys and Serena. You confided in both of them. You trusted them with the secrets of your past. For a time, the three of you had been inseparable. Then Serena died and the loss of your friend hardened you in a way that couldn’t be undone. Her death solidified what you’ve known all along — everything you touched turned to smoke and ash.

You looked at that smile again, wondering what your friend would say if she knew you were returning to the Forest House. She probably would have insisted on coming along. 

Serena was the only one who knew the full extent of the horrors you escaped. The cruelty of the Autumn Court. The familial ties that hounded you. The blood of the fox that took and took until you had nothing left. 

You dreaded going back to that wretched place. And yet, the darkness within you, the rage and fury coursing through your veins whispered home, home, home.

When you looked up, you met the shadowsinger’s gaze. There was something brewing within him, though his expression appeared as cold and stoic as it always was. But there — a sharpness in his eyes that strangely resembled recognition. Perturbed by its implication, you broke eye contact. 

Azriel regarded you warily as he moved towards the couch. If he noticed that you had momentarily lost yourself in thought, he made no mention of it. The shadowsinger plopped down on the cushions and stretched his long legs atop your coffee table. Shadows peered over his shoulders as though they too were passing judgment on the utter lack of decoration in your flat. 

You cleared your throat and marched back into your room to resume packing. If anything, you were just glad to have a door between you and Azriel. 

“We should leave before the sun rises. I can winnow us to the edge of the Winter Court, but we’ll have to fly the rest of the way.”

You rifled through your wardrobe, throwing in a few dresses for good measure before slipping out of the smock you were wearing in exchange for something thicker. You needed to layer if you hoped to survive the flight through Kallias and Viviane’s borders.

“Did Rhys tell you where Beron intends to house us?”

A beat of silence passed. You glanced over your shoulder and realized that the bedroom door was cracked open just enough to give Azriel a glimpse of your bare back. You could feel him staring at the giant wings etched upon your skin — a tribute for the ones that Serena lost.

You slammed the door shut, causing Azriel to flinch. After pulling on a sweater, you emerged from the room just as the shadowsinger cleared his throat and picked up the conversation as though you hadn't just caught him staring at you. 

“At one of his properties near the Forest House. He’s welcoming us into his borders, but keeping us well away from his home until the Blood Moon.”

You frowned. "That's strange," you murmured under your breath. The Beron you knew was a strong believer in keeping his friends close, but his enemies closer. If he was choosing to house you away from the Forest House, then he truly must be hiding something. "I would've thought that Beron would prefer to keep us under constant watch. My uncle is as paranoid as they come.”

“With good reason,” Azriel added with a slight smirk, “Look who he’s letting into his territory.”

That brightened your mood a notch. You couldn’t wait to rob the bloody bastard blind. 

“Fair point,“ you admitted. “Well if you’re done being a busybody, we should head out. Rhys is expecting me.”

As always, Azriel flew in complete silence. You looped your arms around his neck and shut your eyes. Flying was something you had always dreaded and it didn’t help that the shadowsinger dipped and flipped without warning. Those lethal wings of his beat against his back and plummeted you into the air while the wind whipped your scarlet hair into your eyes. 

Despite your tight grip, Azriel carried you in his arms with ease while simultaneously maintaining a considerable amount of distance between you. Gods forbid if Azriel held anyone closer than arms-length. It seemed fitting, given the nature of your relationship. 

Despite being in the same circle of friends, you and Azriel had never really gotten along. On a good day, you might be persuaded to tolerate each other for a limited amount of time and that was only if one of you managed to keep the hostility to the bare minimum. Rhys liked to say that mutual stubbornness was the cause of the clash, but in reality, something about Azriel has always unnerved you. 

What he lacked in words, he more than made up for with astute observation. Even without the help of his shadows, Azriel was extremely perceptive. He picked up on things most people wouldn’t notice. For someone who spent her entire life not wanting to be seen or known, the shadowsinger’s attentiveness was perturbing. 

You could feel his scrutinizing gaze on you even now as he examined the expression on your face with calculated caution. You tilted your chin up and stared right back into those hazel eyes of his. 

“What?” you challenged. “Do I have something on my face?” 

Azriel ignored the question and jumped straight to the point. There was no beating around the bush with the shadowsinger. “The tattoo on your back. They’re Serena’s wings, aren’t they?” 

Everything within you stilled. You stiffened in Azriel’s arms and looked away from him, which was a mistake in itself since there was nothing but the terrifying open sky to be seen from this height. You couldn’t tell whether it was your fear of flying or the subject of your friend that suddenly caused your chest to tighten. 

You never really talked about Serena with anyone other than Rhys. A part of you knew you should, at least to keep her memory alive, but it still hurt to speak of your late friend even to this day. It would never stop hurting. 

“So you were watching me undress,” you accused, shifting the topic of conversation. “Can’t say I’m surprised that you’re into voyeurism.”

Azriel rolled his eyes. “It’s pretty hard to miss,” the shadowsinger said with a shrug. He paused as his gaze slid over to you once more. Softly, he added, “I’d almost forgotten how beautiful they were. How beautiful she was.”

Your heart twisted in your chest. Sometimes you forgot that Serena had been his friend just as much as she was yours. The shadowsinger had served Rhysand’s father for years and lived under the same roof as her. She always considered Azriel and Cassian as her brothers and she used to tease you endlessly about your rivalry with Azriel. 

The line between love and hate is thinner than you think, your friend would state with a knowing smile. No matter how much you tried to convince her otherwise. Once Serena set her mind on something, there was no talking her out of it. 

While Serena was right most of the time, she couldn’t have been more wrong about you and Azriel. There was nothing between you but hostility and disdain. The only thing you had in common was your friendship with her. It seemed rather odd to you that the two of you could love the same person, but hate one another. 

With a forlorn expression, Azriel set you down on the balcony of the House of Wind. “It looks good on you,” he declared softly. 

You stared at each other for a moment before you cleared your throat and broke off the intense eye contact. 

“I should go. Rhys is waiting for me,” you said. Azriel nodded in confirmation. “I’ll see you at dawn, then.”

“I have to reconvene with my contacts in Rask to make sure things are in order during my absence, but I’ll be back before we’re due to depart.”

You involuntarily flinched at the mention of one of the most powerful kingdoms in the Continent. A kingdom who allied with Hybern. 

Azriel noted the reaction. “Try not to miss me too much, princess. I’ll be back before you know it.”

The shadowsinger grinned as you rolled your eyes at the comment. Not bothering to respond, you spun on your heel and threw Azriel a vulgar gesture over your shoulder. 

As you ascended the stairs, his dark laughter followed after you like a shadow.

The bloodstone hanging between your shoulder blades gleamed as you tugged on the chain absentmindedly, your focus shifting in and out as Rhysand’s voice floated through the room. His tone took on the form of a question and snapped you back to the present. 

Am I boring you? Rhys asked as he prodded through your mental shields. You frowned in response and clamped down the ruby gates within your mind.

The High Lord winced as you flashed him a feral smile. “You were saying?”

For the past hour, Rhys had drilled you on the plan until you were certain that you could recite the entire thing in your sleep. First, you were to winnow to the Winter Court. After that, Azriel would fly the rest of the way to the borders of the Autumn Court where you would both meet Beron’s welcoming party at the designated spot. From there, you’d be taken to the Forest House and formally presented to the High Lord. 

“How are you faring with all of this?” 

“Fine,” was your customary response. Rhysand raised a knowing brow. This wasn’t just an ordinary mission and you both knew it. “I can handle it.”

“I know you can,” your friend said with a tinge of worry. “But asking you to go back to that place is not something I take lightly. I wouldn’t have brought this to you if I hadn’t already exhausted all our other options.”

Violet eyes met yours and your demeanor softened. Rhysand rarely asked anything of you. Most of the time, you were the one volunteering to go on dangerous missions, much to his apprehension. 

“I know and I appreciate it.” You offered your friend a reassuring smile. “But you don’t have to worry about me, Rhys.” 

“I do so regardless.” He gazed through the glass window panes with a wistful expression. “You know, she would kick my ass if she knew what I was asking you to do.”

Rhysand didn’t have to say her name. You both knew he was speaking of Serena. 

You chuckled. “Knowing her, she would probably have insisted on coming with me.” A smile bloomed on your lips at the thought. “It would’ve been a sight, wouldn’t it? I’d pay to see her lay into Beron.”

You exchanged a forlorn glance. Both of you would have paid all the damn gold in the Night Court’s coffers to see Serena do anything again. 

“For her sake and mine, please be careful.” Your friend said in a serious tone. “I know you’re not thrilled to have Azriel accompanying you, but you will need each other.”

“I highly doubt that,” you muttered under your breath. 

Rhysand gave you a look of disapproval and you responded with a dramatic eye roll, throwing your hands up in surrender. “Fine, I suppose I can tolerate the overgrown bat for a few days. At the very least, the shadowsinger can tether me if things get out of hand.”

At the mention of tethering, Rhys blanched. You knew that you probably shouldn’t joke about such things. Unleashing your true form was dangerous enough, but setting your power loose in the Forest House meant that someone would have to snap the thread in case your flames gained control over you rather than the other way around. 

You had only ever come close to being tethered once, after Serena’s death. You lost control that day, drowning the bog of Oorid in smoke and ash while you raged to taste the blood of the Spring Court lord and his sons. It took Rhysand nearly half his strength to break into your mind and render you unconscious, which effectively broke the connection and stopped you from laying waste to the desolate swamp.

If Rhys had been unsuccessful, the only alternative was to shatter the thread which would have killed you in the process.

“I’m joking, Rhys. It won’t come to that.” He ran a hand over his face, clearly exhausted from his duties. It probably wasn’t wise to add onto his extensive list of worries. “I’ll be careful.” 

He sighed in relief. “Are you and Azriel set to depart tomorrow?” 

You nodded in confirmation. “Yes, he said he’d be returning from Rask before dawn.” Your gaze shifted to your friend. “Trouble in the Continent?” 

“Quite the contrary. It seems congratulations are in order. The King of Rask plans on crowning his heir.” 

“May the gods be with the young prince.” The declaration filled you with dread and tasted like ash in your mouth. “With Xilas as a father, Cauldron knows the boy will need it.”

“The King is a nasty piece of work.” Rhys said in agreement. You didn’t miss the sidelong glance he cast your way. “He hasn’t tried to reach out to you, has he?” 

You scoffed. “His Royal Highness has no interest in his illegitimate offspring. Xilas made that very clear the day he left my mother.” 

“I’m sorry to even bring it up. I just wondered. The coronation may be in the works, but rumor has it that the young prince did not inherit his father’s powers.” 

The pointed look Rhys sent your way was deflected by a nonchalant shrug. “Regardless, he is the heir to the throne. The only heir,” you added with a tone of finality. 

The High Lord nodded slowly, but kept his gaze leveled on you. “Do the others know? About the King?” 

Rhys shook his head. “It’s not my story to tell. If and when you are ready to tell them, I will support you.” 

The day would likely never come. You were content on being known for who you are now, not for some meaningless title passed down from a father who couldn’t even be bothered to care about your existence. 

“Thank you, Rhys.” You nodded towards the darkening horizon outside. “If that’s all, I’m going to turn in early.  Give Feyre and Nyx my regards. I heard the little Illyrian is teething, so you should probably relieve my High Lady soon.” 

Rhys chuckled. “You have no idea. She’s calling in reinforcements as we speak.” 

You grinned. “Don’t let me hold you up, then.” 

You and Rhysand exchanged goodbyes with the High Lord ruffling your hair and making you promise to be careful just like he did back when you and Serena used to sneak out and get into all sorts of mischief in the city.

You paused in the doorway. “Do you ever talk about her? With Feyre or any of the others? With Nyx?” 

Rhys looked at you for a long time, stars winking in his eyes. “No, but I should.” 

He turned to meet your gaze. “We both should.” 

The High Lord of the Night Court found himself in the heart of the Western Isles. 

Despite his desire to return home to his High Lady and their teething toddler, Rhysand had urgent business to attend to first. 

He watched as the waves of the pewter sea crashed violently against the brutal cliffs of the rocky mountain island. Above the misty peak, the Prison stood menacingly against the dreary backdrop. 

“I’m aware that you have a reputation to uphold, but this is a bit overkill, don’t you think?” 

A flash of scarlet glimmered in the High Lord’s periphery. Rhysand remained silent and stoic as stone while Eris Vanserra slid into place beside him. 

“Always a pleasure, Eris.” 

The Autumn Court male snorted. “I may not be a daemati, but being a Vanserra has made me an expert in spotting insincerity and you’d rival my father in your capacity for drivel.” Rhys almost smiled at that. “Why are we here, Rhysand?” 

“Is everything according to plan?” 

“Would I be here if it wasn’t?” The High Lord leveled a hard stare at the redhead and Eris sighed in response. “Beron has ensured safe entry for my dear cousin and the shadowsinger. After all, Autumn Court law requires him to honor the rite. My father would not dare trample the traditions of our land.” 

The tension lifted from Rhysand’s shoulders. As much as he detested placing his trust in Beron, he knew the male would not be foolish enough to break the customs of his ancestors. Violating the ancient rite was punishable by death. No one was exempt from the provision — not even a High Lord.

It was the only way Rhysand could protect Y/N. Though it didn’t fully alleviate his worries, it at least provided him some sort of assurance. 

“And Xilas?” 

It was the Autumn lordling’s turn to frown. “I have stalled his correspondences for the meantime, but it’s only a matter of time before he makes contact with my father.” Cunning eyes scanned the gloomy horizon and a flash of brooding marred the eldest Vanserra’s fox-like features. “Does she know about the coronation?”

Rhysand nodded. “She’s aware. I tried to broach the subject, but she has made it clear on multiple occasions that she’s not interested in the affairs of the kingdom.”

“Be that as it may, but the kingdom is interested in her.” 

“She’s been through enough.”

“And yet you’re sending her back into the Autumn Court blindly,” Eris said with a hint of bitterness. “This arrangement may protect her from Beron, but she cannot avoid the matter of her birthright forever. Perhaps it would be best to inform my dear cousin of the plan.”

“You lost the right to claim her as family the minute you allowed her to wander through Prythian starving and alone,” Rhys snapped. “I am doing what you failed to do centuries ago. I’m protecting her.”

Ire flashed behind that burning gaze. Eris seemed inclined to argue, but thought better of it and settled for a sneer instead. “Awfully convenient that I’m the one who will bear the brunt of her wrath once she finds out about your twisted little plan of protection. She will be furious with your deception. As will the shadowsinger.”

“Azriel will do what is necessary.”

In that, he had no doubt. As much as he hated keeping both of you in the dark, he knew it was the only option. Azriel would be angry, but his brother would understand. He just hoped that Y/N would too. 

“You may judge my methods, but all that I do, I do for the sake of my loved ones. That is what we do in the Night Court. We protect our families.”

“Grand and noble Rhysand,” Eris sneered. “Has it ever occurred to you that you’re not the only one with a family to protect?” Rhysand faltered at that. 

The High Lord examined the eldest Vanserra — the heir of the Autumn Court who possessed deadly wit and an even more lethal hand. Rhys could see the poised, pompous, and arrogant male who pranced about Prythian as though the realm owed him a great debt for merely existing, but underneath that carefully crafted exterior, he thought he was a glimpse of Eris. 

The male who had risked his life to ally with the Night Court, to rebel against his father, to protect his mother, to keep his brothers in line, to rally the troops of the Autumn Court during their fight with Hybern. Rhysand thought that maybe, maybe, they weren’t as different as he had always led himself to believe. 

But that glimpse had only been afforded to him momentarily. Once again, the cool mask of Eris Vanserra clicked into place as his amber eyes hardened on the horizon. 

“The next month will be eventful to say the least,” Eris conceded with a sigh. “But I suppose it isn’t a Vanserra family reunion without lies, schemes, and betrayal. At least my cousin’s arrival will rouse some drama and intrigue in the fox’s den. I dare say it’s gotten a bit dull with only the threat of death gods and war.”

Rhysand’s lips curled a little at that. The Autumn lordling sighed. “Are you sure keeping this from them is the best idea?” 

“It’s safer if they don’t know,” he replied. “Not yet, anyways.”

“She will be furious,” Eris whispered. He didn’t have to say the words that Rhys had spent pondering during the past few weeks. 

She will never forgive you.

The High Lord knew that Eris, of all people, understood what that felt like. 

“Better angry and safe than informed and dead.” The High Lord repeated the phrase almost mechanically, the words falling seamlessly from his lips as he recited them over and over again to himself, though it did nothing alleviate the worry and fear he felt. “She’ll understand. She always does.”

The words caught in his throat. You would be furious with him, Rhys knew that. But it was a risk he was willing to take if it meant keeping you safe. 

I will not lose another sister. 

Rhys had meant what he said. This plan had to work. It had to, because he didn’t know what he would do if it didn’t. 

Right now, standing on the rocky shores of the Western Isles, it wasn’t the High Lord who slipped his trembling hands into the pockets of his tailored trousers. 

It was a brother who prayed that his sister would forgive him for what he was about to do.

TAGLIST

@fuckingsimp4azriel @onebadassunicorn-blog @acourtofbatboydreams @marina468

[utilitycaster]

The identity erasure in fandom is so exhausting.

I feel like someone could write a thesis specifically about Zac Oyama’s characters being pushed into queer/ nd stories by fandom without any regard to the actual textual stories of racism, model minorities, and othering that often arise from Zac’s work.

Like I can find hundreds of Gorgug/ Zelda/ Ragh fics and fics about Gorgug being autistic and only a handful that engage with Gorgug’s race. And actually, you’re just as likely to see a fic about fantasy racism towards Riz, which. Is not the story being told.

Truly wild.

You know, this is really fascinating to me both because I tend to only see the most ridiculous discourse coming from D20 and I don't read fic, but also despite neurodivergence being not uncommon among peole in fandom, as I said, people acted like Travis Willingham was too stupid to play a druid as recently as late 2021 (even after he'd played a hexadin). It's gotten much better and more AP actors have openly talked about having ADHD (Travis McElroy, Aabria Iyengar, Siobhan Thompson, Taliesin Jaffe, Ashley Johnson) which I think forced people to consider what ADHD looks like but now it's kind of become a new "oh this character is LIKE ME" thing where basically anything can be used as evidence, which is fine for headcanons but becomes a problem when you ignore the identities you don't personally have.

But yeah, Zac in particular gets treated terribly - I haven't seen people be as awful to Lou despite him also being a man of color (though I have seen people be weird about him not necessarily choosing to play fat characters and it's like idk man why do you feel he's obligated to play characters that represent you, especially since he does clearly choose to consistently play black characters?) but a lot of people ignore that yeah, Zac has consistently played Japanese characters whenever they've been in a real-world-inspired setting, and that Gorgug is a half-orc living with gnomish parents who is curious about his parentage and who ends up pursuing artificing like his adoptive parents and feels like a very meaningful exploration of being multiracial. I do, for what it's worth, think there is textual exploration of anti-goblin racism in the first season that isn't really followed up on...but it's kind of telling that also, Gorgug isn't canonically queer and Riz is, and Riz is played by a white actor.

I would like to see someone, actually, do an academic exploration of everything talked about here because it's like:

Is this character, in-world, textually an oppressed identity (Fjord, Molly)

Is this character portrayed, in-world, as being of an identity that is oppressed in our world but is not in their world (eg, Beau being a nonwhite human lesbian in a world that doesn't really have color-based racism, usually favors humans, and doesn't have homophobia)

Is the character portrayed by an actor with an oppressed identity (Zac is nonwhite, Ally is trans, etc)

Is this actor a person with an identity shared by their character (ie, Lou and Aabria usually play black characters but those characters do not necessarily experience racism in their world - Fabian doesn't but Kingston would as does Eursolon; Deanna and Suvi don't - if I'm wrong bc I'm behind on WBN sorry)

If a character has multiple identities, which one are people connecting to and which are they ignoring?

If a character is, for example, played by an (afaik) straight cis nonwhite man and played as a straight cis nonwhite man (Ricky Matsui as played by Zac) do people headcanon them as being more like themselves to make them more relatable? Does this happen more with nonwhite characters given the heavily white AP audience?

If a character's race in a fantasy world is metaphorical, do they care about it? when and how?

anyway. much to think about.

[bwat5-blog]

A Sister's Love: Jinx & Vi

**Spoilers For Arcane**

A while back I had a short but pleasant discussion with someone on one of their posts about Jinx's treatment of Vi, and how it can feel like Jinx doesn't seem to care about Vi in many instances. In hopes of further discussion, I posted in the community where many of you wonderful folks shared your thoughts on the subject and I got a lot of really good insight into this as well. I was thinking about that this morning and it got me thinking about Jinx in general, and more specifically the times when even if it's not as clear, her love for Vi shines through.

I've said this many times but it bears repeating. I am aware that I have been quite harsh on Jinx. The unfortunate reason for most of that is that a significant amount of Jinx fans have an obsession with comparing her to Caitlyn or Vi that borders on the fanatical. But my issue has never been, and will never be with the character herself. I think she is absolutely amazing as a character and loved watching her story unfold.

*I do this every-time but I think it's important. Especially because some of you have shared with me that your own mental health is what has made you connect with Jinx so strongly. I understand and recognize that her mental health plays an immensely important role in her character's journey. I am in no way, shape or form a qualified mental healthcare professional. So any disrespect or lack of sensitivity is not my intention*

Jinx & Vi:

The journey of these sisters is heartbreaking and inspiring in equal measure. It is many people's favorite part of the story and for good reason. They are so close when the show begins and ripped apart by the darkness in their world. Only to fight their way back to one another through love and sacrifice.

But their story is not without conflict. In fact at their lowest point they almost kill one another. There is much that can be said about Vi's love for Jinx, the times she fails her, and those important moments, but I want to focus on Jinx right now.

I don’t have exact quotes on hand, but someone in the community made an excellent point during our discussion. Even when Vi and Jinx are at odds, and Jinx’s hallucinations try to convince her that Vi no longer loves her—that she’s been replaced by Caitlyn—Jinx fights back. She defends who she knows her sister to be, even if she can’t always silence those voices. It’s only pain, fear, or manipulation that pushes her too far, making her lose her grip on what she knows to be true.

During the horrifying sequence when Jinx is being saved by Singed, she hallucinates. And who does she hallucinate in that terrifying moment when she is in terrible pain and in such need of comfort? Vi. Even though she just tried to kill Vi on that bridge. The vision is only corrupted when Caitlyn appears, which all stems from Silco and Sevika feeding Jinx's paranoia.

Okay. I know what some of you are thinking seeing me post ANYTHING about the dinner party on a Jinx positive post. Hear me out. There is no question that Jinx does ALL sorts of fucked up shit here. But we are talking about her love for Vi. What does she want here? She wants things to be like they used to be. She wants her sister. She is in such a dark and twisted state that she cannot see how terrible her actions are, but at her core, she wants her older sister to love her like she used to. She doesn't hurt Vi (I mean aside from the bonk). Additionally, and again- I AM NOT SAYING SHE DIDN"T DO TERRIBLE THINGS HERE- Even with all she did to Caitlyn, she knows Vi cares for Caitlyn, she views Caitlyn as the one who was taking Vi from her, and yet she doesn't kill Caitlyn and she easily could have. This is not about justifying anything she does. It's about looking for what lies beneath the darkness in her to see the person she has the potential to be again.

Here at their lowest moment, when Vi and Jinx have almost killed each-other, and Jinx is glad Vi is the one who is going to finish her, Jinx screams "NO!" when Isha does this. She doesn't want Vi to die.

Vi is at her worst during her pitfighter arc. I'm not going super in-depth on this because this post is about Jinx but Vi is in a self-destructive spiral and totally alone. It's quite clear in one moment that Jinx is there in the crowd but if you slow down the whole sequence you actually see her there a few times. This was primarily what I was discussing with some other people and I believe Jinx was watching over Vi in the best way she could process. I'm sure there was some degree of pleasure in seeing Vi cast out by Caitlyn at first, but with all other signs pointing to Jinx caring for Vi I don't think Jinx was here laughing at her sisters pain. More trying to be there and watch over Vi but with no idea how to approach her with all that happened.

*I fully recognize there is a degree of speculation on my part for this point but I think it's reasonable, feel free to let me know if you disagree!*

With everything that has happened between them, the fact that Jinx comes to collect Vi when she finds out about Vander speaks volumes. There is still much to be worked out between them but she wants their family to together again including Vi. And although I couldn't find the GIF for it, when jinx is in the dark with her lighter after Vi and Vander fight is such a heart wrenching moment. She is clearly so afraid that she has caused the death of her sister, her dad, or both. She cares so much for those that she has left.

Jinx and Caitlyn's history is the furthest thing from simple. But in this moment, Caitlyn cast Vi out, hit her, became the commander and placed Zaun under martial law all because she wanted Jinx (this is not a who is right and who is wrong I'm just making a point), Jinx would HATE Caitlyn. But she knows what she means to Vi. And she just saw Caitlyn save Vander. Jinx easily could have let Rictus finish Caitlyn then jumped in if it was just about saving Vander but she still jumps headfirst into the fight.

In the aftermath of Isha and Vander's death, Jinx could easily have escaped Caitlyn. But Caitlyn tells Vi that all Jinx wanted was to make sure Vi was safe after Vi sacrificed herself to protect her.

Jinx's mindset in this moment is a complicated topic. But I want to focus her feelings about Vi. Vi has come and broken her out of jail, risked everything for her again. And Jinx realizes Vi will never give up on her. Even at great cost to herself. So Jinx punches her and leaves her, and almost begs her to start living for herself. Because she knows Vi cannot give herself that permission. She wants Vi to choose her own life, and to choose love.

Free and clear, obviously Jinx was going to do something horrible but thankfully Ekko talked her down. Even still, she could have done anything. But what does she choose to do? She chooses to ride to war with her people, honoring Vi's faith in her.

And of course, the absolutely devastating final sacrifice (I know she's alive but you get it) of Jinx saving Vi's life when the pain and grief finally overwhelm the fearsome brawler. I have mentioned it many times, but Jinx's core belief is that everyone who gets close to her dies. She thinks she is a curse on all who love her. But in her last action, she saves the life of the older sister she knows will always love her, and who never gave up on her.

I have touched on most of this before but it was just on my mind this morning. I hope I didn't bore anyone. I know there are LOTS of strong feelings about Jinx and like I have said over and over nothing here is about justifying the wrong she did. It's just about looking at those moments that showed her true colors even when she herself couldn't see them. Hope you enjoyed, take care!

[cosmerelists]

Cosmere Characters React to the Cosmere Femslash Prompt Generator

Happy femslash February! @gal-palanaeum has created a Cosmere Femslash Prompt Generator (here) which creates fun ships & scenarios to inspire you! Please check it out!

Me being me, I've created a bunch of randomly generated prompts to consider how Cosmere characters might react to them.

1. The Prompt: "Venli couldn't stand Palona at first, but then..."

Venli: [Looks expectantly at Palona] Venli: Well? What about you is going to win me over? Palona: Hmmm...well, there was a time my partner and I had a literal picnic during the onset of the world's first Everstorm--on the Shattered Plains. You know, the very place where the two storms were crashing into each other. Venli: ... Venli: Dammit, that IS really hot...

2. The Prompt: "If Shallan keeps looking so maladroit I'm going to end up scrying her," Tindwyl whispered to herself."

Shallan: [scoffs] "Maladroit"? I've never been maladroit in my life! Tindwyl: [calmly holds up a screenshot of Shallan sprawled out on the floor with her underwear showing] Shallan: T-That was on purpose! Tindwyl: Mmm-hmmm.

3. The Prompt: "Can't you be normal about Hesina for five minutes?" Jasnah growled at Palona.

Hesina: Oooh, so in this story, the Alethi Queen and Urithiru's economic powerhouse are fighting over me?? Hesina: What happens next?? Jasnah [who had been about to criticize the implication that she would tell any woman to be "normal"]: Well... Palona [who had been about to criticize the implication that she'd let any situation devolve to the point of growling]: Uh... Jasnah: Perhaps...Palona starts to expound on your virtues? Palona: Y-Yes, the words, "How COULD I be normal about such a woman" are surely coming next. Hesina: [eyes sparking]

4. The Prompt: "Watching Akane and Yumi kiss made the Midnight Mother feel so mean!"

Akane: The Midnight Mother...is homophobic? Yumi: W-We should make out harder to show her the error of her ways!

5. The Prompt: "Cord and Rysn were constantly trying to pinch each other, until something changed…"

Rysn: [Looks at Cord] Cord: [Looks at Rysn] Rysn: [Imagining sloppy make-outs] Cord: [Imagining her defending Rysn from a sudden pirate attack after which she leaps to safety with Rysn in her arms] Rysn: C-Can you imagine... Cord: H-Ha, yeah...

6. The Prompt: "Sylphrena nodded, looking over her plans. 'The only way to stay on the Wind's Pleasure is to break up Cord and Rysn,' she announced."

Cord: Uh, wow. Rysn: Dishonor Spren, more like. Syl: I-I'm sure it's one of those stories where you'd end up getting back together!!!

7. The Prompt: Eshonai and Vivenna walked hand in hand in the Nightwatcher's Valley, with their trusty havah nearby.

Vivenna: Now, I'm relatively new to this world, but isn't a "havah," like, the main piece of a woman's clothing? Eshonai: Among Vorin humans, yeah. Vivenna: So are we, like, strolling naked? Eshonai: On our way to see a dragon. Vivenna: Kinky.

8. The Prompt: "'Sure, I'm atop Gallant,' Radiant smiled, 'but I would leave it all behind for you.' // 'Even your spren?' Design asked, blushing."

Pattern: Mmmm, ditching your chaperone, Radiant?? Pattern: I know what that means!

9. The Prompt: "She was running out of time. If Queen Fen didn't act fast, she might lose her chance to ask Jaxlim on a date."

Jaxlim: Ah yes, this is told of in our ancient songs... Jaxlim: It is called "Old Woman Yuri." Fen: Is that...really in the ancient Listener songs? Jaxlim: [smiles cryptically]

10. The Prompt: "'I wish I could milk Azure and Jasnah,' Sylphrena said."

Azure: ... Jasnah: ... Syl: ... Azure: ... Jasnah: ... Syl: Although...you know, now that I'm thinking about it... Jasnah & Azure: NO

[pommedepersephone]

Please let me explain why the centipede tears my heart out and chews it up.

Burroughs had a THING about centipedes. He hated them, loathed them entirely. Centipedes made appearances in his writing repeatedly - in Junkie (1953), Queer (written 1951-53), Naked Lunch (1959), The Ticket That Exploded (1962), The Place of Dead Roads (1983), and The Western Lands (1987), not to mention in his journals and even interviews.

For Burroughs, centipedes are a symbol of inhumanity, a state of existence without free will or feelings. They are monsterous, irredeemable. Which makes his final journal entry - a source of inspiration for the movie (especially the score) - really fascinating. Burroughs writes:

A centipede can be seen as a test upon which Love, like St. Francis used to make, would shatter.

St. Francis of Assisi was deeply concerned with matters of Love. He is the patron saint of animals and ecology, believing that loving all of creation was the way to truly love God. St. Francis would have loved the centipede as he loved all creatures, though Burroughs objects. And yet his entry goes on to consider that the answer to it all is Love:

There is no final enough wisdom, experience–any fucking thing. No Holy Grail, No Final Satori, no final solution. Just conflict.

Only thing can resolve conflict is love, like I felt for Fletch and Ruski, Spooner and Calico. Pure love.

What I feel for my cats is present and past.

Love? What is It?

Most natural painkiller what there is.

LOVE.

To have the centipede represent repression in Queer just gets me. Whether the repression comes in the form of external social pressure or internalized self censorship, repression will keep you from loving yourself and others fully. It is what denies one free will and true feeling, and is the thing which can shatter Love.

Anyway, I will be over here in the corner having Feelings about this.

the luca guadagnino reflection on repression and love got to me. alright

[steddieas-shegoes]

i love him on purpose

for @steddielovemonth using red, white, and royal blue for inspiration

rated t | 1385 words | cw: forced coming out | tags: established relationship, secret relationship, royal steve harrington, wayne munson is the president (god i wish)

🔴⚪🔵🔴⚪🔵🔴⚪🔵🔴⚪🔵🔴⚪🔵

The news broke in the middle of the night, long after Eddie had fallen asleep, and just before Steve’s alarm woke him up.

PRINCE STEVEN CAUGHT HOOKING UP WITH FIRST SON EDDIE, ROYAL FAMILY INSISTS ON SECRECY

Every headline is some variation of Steve and Eddie being caught, but there’s no photos. Most articles point to the royal family not wanting to allow it, but they didn’t even know about it.

Steve’s been so careful, much more careful than Eddie. Eddie’s told his best friends and Wayne, who deserves to know when his nephew turned son is getting into things. Especially when the thing he’s getting into is the Prince of England.

Steve doesn’t really have many friends. He has Robin, who is more like a sister to him, and an entire advisory team, publicists, security…

He won’t answer his phone, which means all of those people have probably informed him he is to have no contact with the outside world until they figure out what to do. Eddie doesn’t know what to do.

They talked about hypotheticals, as any young adults in the public eye are wont to do. How they’d handle the press when they come out. How they would handle Steve’s family when they come out.

All under the assumption that they would have control over their coming out.

How naive.

“Ed. I have to give some kind of message here,” Wayne says softly, gently like he knows that Eddie is gonna beg him not to say anything until he hears from Steve. “Silence ain’t gonna win us any favors.”

“I promised he wouldn’t have to do this alone,” Eddie says. “If we make a statement now, I’m just throwing him to the wolves.”

“Not necessarily. Plenty of options with what to say. As long as we acknowledge we’ve seen it, they don’t have to have any other information,” Wayne says. “I’ll follow your lead, kid.”

“I don’t know what the right thing is.”

Wayne pulls him into a hug. This isn’t the first time they’ve had a PR nightmare on their hands, and probably won’t be the last. Wayne’s always been good at handling things just fine.

But this is something Eddie needs to handle. He accepts the comforting hug, then he decides to be brave.

****

“Forcing anyone to come out is disgusting, and the media has done it time and time again. In this case, they took something that should have been up to me, and up to Prince Steve, and made it world news based on a false report of someone seeing us together at an event. Whether we are together romantically or not isn’t up for speculation. We are what we are. We choose how to define that to ourselves, to our loved ones, and maybe someday, to everyone.” Eddie takes a deep breath and looks into the many cameras facing him, trying his best to ignore the reporters anxiously waiting to be able to ask questions. He’s not letting them, but they don’t know that yet. “Respect goes both ways. Pops has always taught me that respect is earned, not freely given. No one in this press room has earned my respect. Until you do, the only news story you can break about me is that I’m disappointed in the way the media has handled this news story. Thanks for your time.”

Eddie leaves the room.

Wayne is waiting for him in his office.

“Proud of ya, son.”

“Thanks.”

“Your boy will be here in four hours.”

Eddie’s jaw drops. “He called?”

“He did more than call. He caused a scene with every secretary in the building. He insisted he needed to speak to me.”

“He could’ve called me,” Eddie is pacing.

“You left your phone in here earlier, remember? He was desperate.”

“Is he okay? Have they made a statement yet?”

“They haven’t. They wanted to see what we’d do first.” Wayne holds Eddie’s phone out to him. “But I think he could stand to hear from ya.”

Eddie steps in to take the phone from him, but Wayne clasps his hand between his, holding tight.

“I can’t protect you from the media forever, but I’ll always stick up for you and your happiness. You know that?”

“Of course I do,” Eddie answers.

“That goes for your Prince, too,” Wayne smirks. “His family’s on thin ice, though.”

****

Eddie talks to Steve on the phone for a few minutes, but Steve’s not alone, and Eddie’s trying not to hide away entirely from everyone who cares about him. It’s a short conversation, but it’s enough to get them through until Steve arrives.

He sounds like he’s being stoic.

Eddie knows he’s struggling.

It takes nearly two hours of security for Steve to actually get to Eddie’s suite.

“Baby,” Eddie says as he pulls Steve into his chest, feeling whole for the first time since he woke up. “It’s okay. It’s all gonna be okay.”

“They’re making a statement any minute now,” Steve says miserably.

“I’m guessing it’s not what you wanted.” Steve shakes his head in response. “That’s okay. We can work with whatever we need to.”

“They wouldn’t let me do it,” Steve explains. “I wanted to do something like what you did. They said I was too emotional.”

“I think you’re just emotional enough. God forbid you show signs of being a human.”

Steve laughs. Eddie smiles.

“Have you eaten? Do you wanna get cleaned up? I know you hate how airplanes make you feel,” Eddie offers.

Steve tightens his grip around Eddie. That’s answer enough.

****

“We sincerely hope the media will understand that making accusations of this nature about a member of the royal family will not go unpunished. Whether it is true or not, we will be handling this discussion internally. We have contacted the President’s office to have a discussion with their team. Eddie’s statement today was not discussed with us beforehand, nor did it go through any of our approval, and should not be seen as our official statement.”

“Does your grandfather always look like someone pissed directly in his eye?” Eddie asks Steve as they watch the official statement from his room.

“It depends on which of us has displeased him,” Steve laughs. “If it’s my mother, his lip curls up over his teeth.”

Eddie pulls Steve into his side on the couch, turning off the television so they can have some peace. They sit in the silence for a couple of minutes, something neither of them get to do very often.

“Wayne offered us the house in Indiana for a bit. Said it might be nice for us to just be away from the chaos,” Eddie runs his fingers up and down Steve’s arm, smiling to himself when Steve shivers against him. “At least for a few days. Let the media move on and give time for your family to get the sticks surgically removed from their asses.”

“That sounds nice,” Steve agrees, leaning his head back to kiss Eddie’s lips. “I wanna do something first, though.”

Steve pulls away so he can get his phone from the coffee table. It’s been on silent and face down since he arrived. He types for a minute, and Eddie waits.

Steve sets his phone down and turns back to Eddie with a grin.

“Okay, ready to go.”

Eddie’s phone goes off in his pocket. He pulls it out and looks down at where he’s been tagged on Instagram in Steve’s post.

It’s a picture from the trip they took with Wayne to Indiana last month, the two of them by a fire with melted marshmallow all over their lips. They’re both happy.

The caption makes tears pool in Eddie’s eyes and a semi-hysterical laugh burst from his throat.

Doesn’t matter who pissed in his eye, as long as I’ve got you. Let’s go off the grid, baby

“You’re gonna be in so much fuckin’ trouble, baby,” Eddie laughs with disbelief.

“I don’t care. They know better than to cause a bigger scene.” Steve kisses the corner of his mouth. “Can we go to that diner when we get there? The one with the burger that have cheese inside the meat?”

“How American of you,” Eddie teases. “I’ll make sure Wayne calls Benny ahead of time so he knows we’re on our way.”

[bahja-blix]

One Helluva Shit Show! 🤡👇🏽💩

I'm sorry Vivziepop but... I hope you just cancel Helluva Boss 😂

Your show is the Literal definition of an Actual shit show 💩! Nobody wants it anymore like they used to back then. It's never going to be as popular as it used to be!

The specials held up for a little bit at 29M views

Those two Stolitz episodes were consistent but with a drop of 13M views which got us at 16M views

Then EP 11 rolled in and got the worst of it with a 6M view drop that was sitting at 10M views and recently went up to 11M views

Then Stolitz once again rolled in town and the views surprisingly went up at 3M+ increase that got us 14M views but still dripped

And lastly, The whole crew showed up and for the Grand Finale and it got 12M views... A 2M dip for the shows ratings

You've TANKED this show into Oblivion, Down straight into the toilet 📉🚽! The Ratings show, the Views show, and the Units of merch you Still haven't sold that occasionally hit the CLEARANCE RACK titled "Last Chance" that nobody wanted it in the first place, Also show!

The fewer units of merch you make, mainly because you can't produce as much as you used to because the show and it's products don't sell anymore!

Hell, not even people of Your political side wants it! Democrats DON'T Want this! Us LGBT folk Don't want this okay!? NOBODY Wants Your Shit Shows Viv 😂!

It happened in movies and in comics back then where people of your side try to pander to other Democrats and they never show up or help sell their shit because the audience you thought was on your side doesn't want this either mainly because there was never usually an audience to begin with.

Wanna know why Barbie and Oppenheimer were successful Viv? Because they DID something Right!

I don't want this as a Bisexual who's been in the LGBT community for more than a decade and This begs the question of the fact that:

We constantly ask you Vivziepop, who the HELL this shows even supposed to be for and You Yourself can't even answer that! You can't represent jack shit outta Anything or Anyone!

You can't represent, White, Brown, or Black communities, you can't represent the LGBT comm because you think that stereotyping the hell out of everything is necessary, you can't represent the disabled community. You know who represents ALL of that including me? JAPAN! know what else? Anime, Manga, and South Park!

You really sat here and opened your mouth somewhere on the Internet claiming to be a Creative Genius that and I quote "Took inspiration from South Park" really? ARE YOU SURE? Well then, Where's the fun satire and jokes that embrace that? Where's the charm that South Park has? Where the Hell is it?

Did you shove it up your ass? Like how you did shoving fucking Stolitz down everybody's throats because you think that shitty ass ships gonna save the show you wasted Millions of dollars on?

And turn around and claimed to want to make MORE of your crap nobody wants? You seriously think you can handle a THIRD SHOW? Like for Fuck sakes Loona, Can't even Save this show! That undeveloped weasel shit you made who I DID love at one point and Was my favorite until You fucked her All up and wasted large amounts of money on merch and made her into wasted space of screentime can't save this show because the only thing that Will (Scuse me) Might is STOLITZ!!!

The few extra views (As you can see in my screenshot above) certainly prove that! I can't believe that's what people want. A level lower than the depths of Hell itself...

And yet you Also sat here probably on Bluesky most likely of all platforms where you ran and hid because I called you out last time on X and you hid by locking your account down because you got scared over receiving criticism all around you yet again!

Probably because I'm an Actual diverse person and politically balanced in Every direction which is why people think TWICE before coming at me. Despite me being smaller than you, you knew not to fuck with me! But you'll go after other critics... wtf...

You my dear friend Vivziepop, are Weak in Spirit! You can't take the heat from other Democrats or Anyone because You Yourself think everyone who even lightly critiques you are All bigots when You and people of your ilk are the ones who have been creating actual bigotry for Years by Normalizing the fact that your shit shows are synonymous with incompetence. And That is on You!

Here we are as past fans who Used to look up to you Laughing at Your Ass because shit like this is Actually funny to watch!

Four seasons??? Like who the flying Fuck has the budget to pay for that cluster fuck of a catastrophe? Ain't no way you're going to deliver this shit in an age like this especially with the shift in politics! But that darn ol Vivziepop sure do gotta plan hidden up her sleeve and in that big ol head of hers now do ya Vivziepop?

Your brain must be filled with SEWAGE to look at this Fuckness and think that it's still okay! Look, Viv, at the end of the day, a polished turd, Is STILL a Turd!

I'll finish off by taking a look at Gooseworx! Obviously Goose and her amazing indie team is doing something Right! This show BLEW your ass and your shit shows away with one swipe of the pilots sword! 🗡️

While the Halloween Episode did Dip it's still very popular and is still noticeably gaining views faster than Helluva Boss. Notice how the McDonald's AU EP for Spudsys with Gangle's story gained an increase of 7M Views which got us At from 54M views to 61M views and STILL counting because I check Everyday on Gooseworx and Vivziepop's channels to see if anything moves and so far Gooseworx is moving but not that darn ol Vivziepop!

IN CONCLUSION

When it comes to Vivziepop, Let's just Mooove away from All this horse shit, stop allowing her to shove her brain diarrhea down everyone's throats and normalizing said sludge heaps. Let Vivs horrendous garbage heaps of shit just die straight into the depths of Hell where it belongs!

I'm Bajah-Blix and I'll see you All in the next one!

[hannahbarberra162]

Victoria Punk Breeding Farm Part 2 (Dark, NON CON, Hybrid Kid Pirates x Reader)

18+ MDNI | on Ao3 | First Part

Hybrid Bull AU, NON CON, DARK

Reader x Kid, Killer, Heat & Wire

Happy birthday Killer!! For your birthday present you are not in this chapter :3

A continued thank you to - @don-mellow for your incredible Bullstass art that inspired me. Thank you to @gouraminnow and @quinloki for beta'ing this for me as I whined about it.

Wire POV

The little heifer was a touch more clever than most, Wire conceded as he watched you from afar. He’d been following you for about fifteen minutes as you attempted your escape. You hadn’t made it very far in terms of distance, taking your time to ensure you were undetected. Well, you thought you were undetected. You didn't know but the crew was still watching you in their den on CCTV and Wire was observing you downwind where you wouldn’t be able to smell him as easily.

You had quickly determined which direction you wanted to set off in, you probably saw the river when you came in that shitty van earlier in the day. Before heading north, you tried taking off the cowbell but found it was locked. Instead of holding the hammer with one hand to prevent it from making noise like some of the other cows had, you stuffed the bell with dirt and grass, which left both your hands free. It wasn’t that the other cows were stupid or anything, but they often let their nerves get the better of them and made foolish mistakes. You also tried rubbing dirt all over your body to dull your scent and the smell of Kid and Killer, another wise move. Kid had mentioned they weren’t your first or second farm and that you’d been sold off for bratty behavior so he wasn’t all that surprised to see you try to take off. In fact, it made his night. 

You were now carefully passing through an open field. If you had stopped to read the sign in the light of the moon, you might have noticed the warning to watch out for bulls in rut. But instead you passed right by, scurrying along in the dim light while trying to remain as quiet and unnoticed as possible. Wire had tracked you from the fence until you hit the middle of the field where there wasn’t any cover. Deciding he had enough chasing for the night, Wire got up from his own concealed position and walked straight towards you.

“Killer warned you little cow,” Wire taunted loudly, swishing his long tail as he spoke his first words to you. “You were told to stay in your pen and be a good little heifer, that running wouldn’t help ya. And now you’re about to find out why. You can come with me now and things can end the easy way or take your chances and things will end the fun way,” he continued, smiling widely. Wire loved this part of his job the most. Sure, he liked everything about working for Kid - the fucking, the fighting, the booze, his friends - but chasing down runaway cows was his favorite part of the job. His cock had been hard since Kid turned on the TV and now it was twitching in anticipation of your imminent capture. He really hoped you went the fun route. 

Your eyes were wide as you remained in your crouched position and Wire smelled fear wafting his direction. It only made his cock harder as he imagined you thinking through all your current options. He hoped you chose to run, it was always better that way. Telegraphing your plans, you braced yourself against the ground as Wire continued casually strolling towards you. He made sure he wasn’t all that close, maybe 50 or so feet away. It was enough for you to think that you had a chance to get away, that you might be able to outrun him. You wouldn’t, but you didn’t know that. You'd find out soon.

He stopped and let the gravity of the situation hit you. And just like Wire predicted, you bolted. His laugh resounded loudly through the empty field making you run even faster as he pulled the lariat off his belt. Wire made his loop and began swinging it overhead, laughing all the while.

Your POV

You stopped as you heard the bull speaking to you. You didn’t know how he’d found you so quickly, you had tried your best to conceal your path, your footprints and your scent. In the light of the moon he looked like a devil sent from hell to drag you back down. His horns were the longest you’d ever seen and they seemed to glow from within. He was wearing some kind of black flowing robe that accentuated his muscles as he walked leisurely towards you. He almost seemed indifferent to the fact that he was chasing you down but for his tail twitching with excitement. You remained frozen until the bull’s hearty laugh had you running as fast as your sore legs could carry you. 

You didn’t want to look back and determine if he was chasing you down as you ran through the open field. Any second that was spent not running would be wasted against a bull that size. You could only hear your blood rushing through your veins as you raced towards the forest at the far end of the clearing. If you made it there maybe you’d be able to lose him among the trees or at least you’d have a better chance than being in the wide open field. Your legs burned with exhaustion as your breath was coming in short spurts but you forced your body to continue onward. Just as you approached the tree line, you felt something tighten around your ankle. It was like you hit an invisible wall as you landed hard on the ground with a thud. You attempted to scramble up again but realized your ankle was caught in a lasso. Turning over onto your butt you tried to get the loop off your leg but it was being pulled tight by the now too close bull. He was practically dragging you to him with how taut he was pulling the rope.

“Looks like you want the fun way, hm? Fun for me anyways,” he drawled as you kept trying to get the rope off. You hadn’t realized how tall he was until he was looming over you, his incredible horns further accentuating your fear.

“D-don’t want ngh any kind of way,” you grunted, still trying to make your escape. The bull laughed again as he squatted down by your torso, the rest of the rope now coiled again in his hand. He pushed you onto your back, putting you at a disadvantage. You could still figure out something to escape if you thought quickly enough.

“Too bad,” he said with mock sympathy, reaching for you. You put up your hands to stop him from touching your body, the two of yours fitting into one of his own. “Never had a heifer assist in her own hogtie before,” he said with a laugh. He captured your wrists in his hand and sunk his knee into your hamstrings, forcing your calves in the air. Faster than your next breath, he’d tied your wrists together and bound them to your ankles. The speed and expertise with which he bound you told you this wasn’t his first rodeo. The ropes were tight and you were unable to dislodge them but they weren’t painful or cutting off your circulation. 

“Let me go!” you screamed, thrashing as much as you could. There was no sense in being quiet or sneaky anymore, your attempt had been discovered. 

“Nah,” he said, sitting down on the grass by you. He pulled you into his lap so that your cunt was inches from his face, your wrists and legs now dangling backwards over your head. One of his hands was on your inner thigh, easing your legs apart while the other was on your hip, keeping you steady. You felt like a crab that had been flipped over to reveal your soft underbelly. “Oh, looks like Kid was here already, yeah? Good thing for you,” he said, a thick finger suddenly stroking your wet slit. You knew you were wet from earlier but you hoped he couldn’t tell not all of it was old. Your body was responding to the bull even as you still wanted to get away.

“Yeah, you probably get off on hurting hybrids smaller than you. Making defenseless cows bleed and cry,” you hissed, unsuccessfully trying to close your legs. Your position, gravity, and his large hand were all working against you as you felt his hot breath on your thighs and bare cunt. You squirmed and tried to reposition yourself farther from his mouth. There had only been one time before where a bull had licked you there and you hadn’t enjoyed it at all. It felt wrong and weird and you’d kicked the bull in the face to get him away.  

“Nah, I’m not gonna hurt ‘cha. At least, not in ways you won’t like,” he said, his eyes no longer on your face but on your cunt. He removed his hand from your hip and used his index and middle finger to spread your pussy lips for his inspection.

“I d-don’t like th-this,” you stammered as he hiked you up further onto your back.

“You will. I watched ya moan and cream all over Kid’s cock earlier, I know what kind of cow you are,” he said in a low voice, his aquiline nose now grazing your folds. You shuddered and fisted your hands tightly, your fingernails digging into the skin of your palms. You tried to mentally prepare for what was coming but your nerves were already shot.

“Wh-hat kind of cow am I?” you asked, hoping the venom in your voice would convey self assurance that you didn’t feel.

“A nasty one. The kind of cow who wants nothing more than to be put in her place and bred by bulls until she cries. The kind of cow whose messy, sloppy pussy is telling me she’s glad she got run down and tied up. The kind of cow who’s going to come on the tongue of some bull she’s never met before over and over again. That kind of cow,” he said, his fingers spreading your lips even wider. You couldn’t see him but you were sure he wore a large grin. You kept your mouth shut as his warm, flat tongue licked you from your hole to the top of your clit. It didn’t hurt, like he said, but it felt foreign and strange. 

“Nice pussy you got,” he said, smacking your lips. If you opened your mouth you were going to squeak or scream so you ignored his stupid ass comment and kept your jaw clenched tight. “You can try to keep yourself quiet if you want, there’s no sound on the cams anyway,” he said offhandedly. You really wanted to know more about the cameras but didn’t take the bait to answer. 

It seemed like the bull took your silence as acceptance as he began licking your cunt like it was a lollipop. You tried to shake him off a few times but all it got you was a nip to your inner thigh before he turned his attention back to your pussy. He teased you by laving the point of his tongue against your clit repeatedly until your legs shook, alternating with dipping his tongue into your hole. You couldn’t imagine what his cock was like if just his tongue was delving so deeply into you. His head bobbed as he ate at you, your teeth grinding against each other to keep them clenched tight. You desperately wanted to grab his horns and pull him closer if only to end the torment that much sooner. 

“Still quiet, eh? Let’s see if we can get you to say somethin’” he said, picking his head up momentarily from your folds. He was taking your silence for what it was - a challenge. He changed the angle he was holding you, setting you against his bent legs. Now you were at a 45 degree angle as one of his arms wrapped around your torso to hold you securely. You didn’t know exactly what he was doing until you felt his fingertips prodding at your seeping cunt. 

“ Y’can take two,” he said, stuffing them into you slowly. You rocked your hips back at the intrusion but soon he was working the digits in and out of you with ease. The lewd squelching of your dripping cunt was making you flush even as you wanted to keen from his attention. You could take it, you thought, you’d be able to bear it without making noises. 

Until.

His mouth descended back to slurp you while his fingers curled on something deep within you. It was like an electric shock - not the bad kind you’d gotten at your previous farm - but like your whole body was a live wire. The bull’s fingers roamed until he found some spot within you and pressed on it. You didn’t mean to, you couldn’t help it, it just slipped out - you moaned.

“There’s my good little heifer,” the bull laughed as his fingers prodded and rubbed within you. “You tried real hard, kept it up a while,” he said, pushing at that special spot. The pressure was doing something unfamiliar to you, making you feel like you were wound too tight like something was going to burst in you.

“N-no, don’t - don’t do that,” you whined. You wanted to stretch your hands over your head but weren’t able to move them farther without opening yourself up to the bull more. 

“Or else what?” the bull taunted from between your legs. He worked you quickly into a fervor, licking and finger fucking you until your toes were curling. You would never admit it but he was right - you did enjoy the sensation of his mouth on your pussy, the strong muscle bringing you closer and closer to coming.

You figured you’d already broken your silent streak and you needed an outlet for the feeling rising within you. “ Oh my gods I’m guh-gonna cuh -” you moaned out, ready for your imminent climax. You were so close to coming over this bull’s face, you wanted to with every fiber in your being. All he had to do was keep going, keep licking and fingering you…but he stopped right before your precipice.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” you cried out, your frustration escaping as anger. You wanted to kick or stamp your feet but they were still bound to your ankles. It wouldn’t do well to provoke the bull who was giving you pleasure but it hadn’t stopped your hot temper before.

“Nah, you say my name when you come or you don’t come at all. Got it?” 

“Wh-what’s your na-name?” you asked, your knees trying to close around his head.

“Oh oops, didn’t tell ya. Wire,” he said with a shrug before leaning back down into you. He started again, his jaw working hard to lick at you like you were a delicious meal. His strong fingers prodded and stroked your sensitive spot and you were panting just moments later. 

“Good cows get to come, yeah? Say my name or I’ll ruin it for ya,” Wire demanded. You nodded, unable to string together a coherent thought as he pistoned his fingers in and out of you. Resuming his previous position, Wire licked his way from his fingers to suck your clit gently in his mouth. One moment of the pressure you came screaming his name into the night. He continued to suck softly as you rode his face as best you could, humping his fingers and nose. Finally you began to come down off your high, your chest heaving as Wire removed his fingers and licked them clean.

You were still panting as he untied your ankles from your wrists and you let your limbs splay outwards and your arms rest over your head. Wire was rubbing your ankles now that they were unbound, checking the ankle he’d yanked with nimble fingers. You didn’t give a shit what he did right now, you felt boneless and could see why some cows begged their bulls for such an act. Not that you would ever beg for anything from these assholes but you could see the appeal. 

“Your ankle’s fine,” he told you, setting your leg down more gently than you expected.

“Like you give a shit”, you snapped. You weren’t fooled, he just didn’t want their investment to be destroyed. Kid would probably take it out of his paycheck - or hide- if he seriously hurt you. Wire grunted but rolled you onto your stomach and pulled you to elbows and knees since your wrists were still bound.

“Nothing’s injured there either, asshole,” you hissed at him, unable to push yourself to your hands. Wire didn’t answer but you heard the sound of fabric swishing and a zipper being undone. Wire’s heavy cloak hit the ground as he threw it behind him. 

“H-hey, wait -” you said, trying to move your legs under you and get out of position. You were tired, sore, and didn’t want to be used by any other bulls. All you wanted to do was pass out and plan your next escape, not get fucked yet again.

“I don’t want - no, please -” you pleaded as Wire lined himself up, his fat tip pressing against your core. There was something metal on his cockhead pressing against you, making you arch your back up. You felt him pause momentarily but continue to move forward as a hand pressed on your lower back to lower it back into position.

“Won’t hurt, loosened you up first,” he grunted, holding up your slim tail in one huge hand as he eased his way inside. His left hand found its way to your horn, gripping it as he mounted you from behind. He was gentle with your horn, holding but not squeezing as he used it as leverage to insert himself into you slowly. Even though you’d been under Kid earlier in the day the stretch was still intense. You whined in your throat as he bottomed out in you. The feeling wasn’t unpleasant but still uncomfortable as your body struggled to accommodate his huge cock. 

Wire started a slow rhythm moving forward inch by inch and retreating just as slowly. Soon the discomfort was replaced by pleasure as he worked himself in and out of you.

“See? Doesn’t ngh hurt,” he murmured, now grabbing both of your horns and leaving your tail to swish by itself. He used the roughened pads of his fingers to rub where they sprouted from your head. It felt too good, too euphoric so you shook your head to get him off. Wire simply held on tighter and pointed your head forward as he fucked you faster, never stopping his movements. 

“Pussy’s so fuck tight, can’t believe this is your third farm. Can’t wait hah to breed this pussy full, have you dripping with my come shit from this nasty little slit,” Wire babbled to you, his pace increasing. It felt vulgar to have him holding you by the horns to fuck you like you were some lowly animal but you couldn’t deny it was turning you on just a little. Wire reached down and grabbed one of your dangling breasts, rolling your nipple between his fingers.

“G’na make milk for us, yeah? G’na be nnnn good little cow let us milk hah hah you? G’na have me suckin’ on these sweet titties, drinkin’ like a king while you come on my cock,” Wire started pulling on your nipple with his index and middle finger while the other fingers massaged your breast, like he was milking you already.

You could tell yourself a lot of things. You could tell yourself that you were overwhelmed, that you were tired and aching, that you were angry, upset, that you just wanted to go home. But as it stood Wire was rubbing your horn, pulling on your nipple and pounding you from behind with his pulsing cock and talking dirty into your ear. You couldn't keep it all together, you…-

You mooed. 

Wire paused for a moment then barked out a cruel laugh that had you ducking your head. “Is that so little cow? Fucked so good you moo for me? Kid's g’na be so fuckin’ mad it wasn't him that got it out of you first,” he snickered like this was something funny for him. Cows were known to moo when overstimulated but it had never happened to you before.

“Good little heifer, mooin’ on our first go. I wasn’t gonna shit hah let you come again but how can I refuse such a unggh sweet moo? Usually nnnh takes a few more ungh fuck shit g’na fuckin..’” Wire let go of your horn and reached under you to rub at your clit with three of his fingers. You clenched down hard on his cock as he brought your sensations to a crescendo. He was playing your body like an instrument, making you senseless with sensation as his pace increased faster and faster. He was pushing you rapidly towards another unwanted orgasm as pounded into you, his thighs slapping against your own as the coil in your stomach wound tighter until you could hardly bear it. You were moaning softly as you climbed higher in your pleasure but needing something to tip you over the edge.

Wire leaned down over you and bit your horn hard. Without warning the coil in you snapped as you came for him a second time, this time shrieking from the intensity. He rode you hard while you came pushing himself towards his own release. Finally you felt him shoot his come inside you, the hot white ropes splashing out of your overstuffed cunt. You collapsed onto your stomach as Wire pulled out, your bound arms trapped underneath your body. This time you didn’t open your eyes after your orgasm ended because there was nothing left of you. You had no more energy or fight, you couldn’t do anything but lay on the soft grass as the night wind chilled your skin. 

Wire rolled you to your side and untied your wrists, rubbing them like he had your ankles. You didn’t resist or try to escape, that would have to wait for another time. After untying you he rolled you onto your back and began kissing your sore tits. You began crying in earnest now, you couldn’t do another session with Wire, you just couldn’t -

“Alright, get off her. She’s done, I’m taking her back,” a blue haired bull said gruffly as Wire picked his head up from your body. The new bull scooped you up easily from the ground, your limbs dangling like a ragdoll from his strong arms. Wire grumbled but moved to a sitting position. What did they put in the water to make all the bulls here so large? 

“Only went one round Heat, I didn’t even get ta -”

“Your dick’s not gonna fall off, you can have ‘er later,” the blue haired bull said dismissively, already turning back towards the barn. He was strange looking and had been branded all over his face and arms but you didn’t even bother staring as you sagged in his arms. Sighing, he grabbed Wire’s cloak off the ground from where he threw it and wrapped it over you before resuming walking. Now you had to straighten up again - the last time that you let your guard down you’d ended up over Killer’s lap with his fingers up your ass. The new bull glanced down at you and grunted.

“Yer alright, nothing else’s gonna happen tonight,” he said quietly. You didn’t reply, not trusting his word. He shifted you in his arms so your head was resting against his shoulder as he carried you back to the lit barn. You let yourself rest just for the moment, it wasn't like you'd be doing anything in the next few minutes anyway. The walk was shorter than you remembered and soon he undid the simple gate lock and entered the warm, cosy barn. Entering your stall, he sat down on the same large chair Killer had before. You tried to get out of his hold but he easily kept you on his lap as he clipped your collar back to your line. Frowning, he turned your bell over and saw the debris you’d put there earlier.

“Smart,” he remarked, digging out the dirt and leaves. Once he was done the hammer could hit the bell once again, leaving you exactly where you started. Well, not exactly. You were exhausted, had more bruises and aches and now had Wire’s come dripping down your legs. Tears beaded on your lash line as you waited for whatever else Heat was going to do to you. You couldn’t take much more, at least not tonight. Heat pulled you close to his chest and sat with you in silence. 

It was wrong on so many levels but Heat was warm, calm, and smelled faintly of peppermint. You buried your head into his chest under Wire’s robe and avoided his gaze as he sat with you on his lap, stroking your skin gently. He didn’t say anything as an errant sniffle turned into a sob which turned into a long cry. Heat held you as you bawled, snot and tears running down your face in equal measure. You were crying for your family, for your freedom, for your future, for anything and everything. No other farm had ever made you feel a loss of control like this one and you didn’t know what your next steps would be. Through it all Heat held you and stroked your flank as you cried into his chest, rubbing your face on his healed wounds. Eventually your cries petered out and turned into hiccups as you calmed yourself down. Heat moved you off his chest and took a look at your red face, brushing some of your tears away with his thumb.

“You can be strong and resist again tomorrow, little cow. We’ll like you just the same,” Heat said as he stood up and placed you on your cot. You laid down obediently and he  covered you with the heavy wool blanket. 

“Good night, little cow,” he said, turning off the lights overhead. You were asleep before he’d left the barn.

Taglist: @mfreedomstuff

[nightwingsgypsyrep]

So I definitely feel like I will be adding to this post quite a bit, and this first addition is coming after @jjohnnyutah’s fantastic reply, which kinda summarised the history a bit more.

As I said earlier, I was really umming and aahing about making this post, because I’m still new to a lot of the comics, so this was really inspired by what I have been able to get my hands on (literally… I started out borrowing my friend’s comics last year) whilst I’m slowly making my way through what’s available online. As it is, you can probably see that I was able to read more of the modern stuff than the older stuff so far. I didn’t really want to make a post until I had read more but hey I’m adhd as hell and intended to just make a small one in reply to the tags and it spiralled from there. I did try to find some info of what I missed online but apparently that left out a lot! So this post is gonna have constant updates of me doing a DC and retconning stuff as I learn more.

So, anyway, jjohnnyutah’s reply addressed a couple of things. Firstly was Mary’s origin as a dental hygienist, rather than being from the circus herself originally. Can’t lie, I actually love this for her. Is it super unusual from a how-gypsies-work perspective? Sure. But like I say, a lot of my cousins are Diddakois, and I kinda love the idea of Mary coming into the fold, when just as often, the gypsy partner ends up leaving it. Of course, there’s nothing to say for sure that Mary did not have Romani ancestry (like I say, in the N52 modern stuff, she was friends with other Romani characters, so she wasn’t completely unfamiliar with the Romani sphere) - I, myself, am a gypsy with a degree, so it’s not exactly like getting a different job cancels your Gypsy Card. Although I do really love the idea of Mary being a gypsy and working as a dentist for the simple reason that, although attitudes to education have greatly improved in recent years, my family would have lost their shit if I got my degree twenty years ago, as it would have been seen as ruining my prospects. So from a feminist perspective, I really love the idea of Mary having at least some Romani heritage too.

The other is Dick not knowing much about his heritage and wanting to learn more, and let me tell you, I feel that. Even growing up surrounded by it, my dad’s side of the family never told me anything. I didn’t even get confirmation of how many siblings my grandmother had until she died. My mum’s side was much more forthcoming. Like I say, I’ve had a lot less opportunity to read the (let’s face it) better older stuff so seeing what I have of it, it seemed more of a given that Dick knew something. The reason for this presumption was mostly of how much Romani he’s seen to know even early on?? As I’ve said on previous posts, in the modern day, Romani is a lot less complete for actual use, so how much he knows is impressive. But yeah, this has just made me so much more excited to continue reading. But at the same time, fully expect another post from me six months from now when I’m more caught up calling myself an idiot. Ta x

Ok so I’ve been umming and ahhing about making this post for a while. I’ve always kinda planned on it, but seeing these tags on a previous post of mine (no hate to this user) made me want to post something now. It’s also gone 3am. So it’s not really going to be very clean and tidy, and will probably be a bit rambling, but I can always post a ‘tidy’ version another time.

So! Tackling Dick Grayson’s Romani/GRTSB heritage (warning: it’s a long one)

So, as usual, a few disclaimers: 1) I am not American. 2) I myself fall under the GRTSB umbrella - for clarity, I am from the fairground/circus so a Showman, but my family were simply ‘gypsies’ before getting involved in that in the Victorian period, so I use gypsy/traveller/Showman for myself. I also speak Romani and grew up in the culture and on the grounds. I’m not just talking out of my arse, I promise. 3) I do not pretend to have read every comic. However, this post will be based in things which DC have published (yeah I know it gets retconned every two minutes but hey, I’m working with it), even if some of it is more speculative/Headcanony, it will all be canon-compliant/what makes sense based on my own experiences. 4) That being said, everyone who does in some way fall under the GRTSB acronym will have different experiences and opinions, and all are equally valid and should be respected. 5) I use the term ‘gypsy’ a lot. Where I am from, it is not a slur, but is used almost a catch-all phrase for GRTSB people, by us. We also see Dick use it so I’m going to. I personally don’t mind if people use it (so long as they don’t use it as an insult) but not everyone will feel that way, so it’s always better to ask individuals. 6) this post is intended as a fun exploration of a character whom I relate to based on our shared heritage (when it’s really rare to find characters like that). I’m not trying to dictate to you how you should interpret Dick’s character. You’re welcome to different opinions and interpretations - this is just one of mine! :)

So, first, what is GRTSB? Well, it’s an acronym which covers all aspects of the gypsy/traveller umbrella. It is used in British legislation. It stands for Gypsy Romani Traveller Showman (aka fairground and circus) Boater. Under British legislation, only the first three (Gypsies, Romani, and Travellers) are considered an ethnic identity, whilst Showmen and Boaters are considered a cultural identity.

This is absolutely FULL of problems and has been hotly debated for years, with different people identifying in different ways. People who share the same/very similar ethnic heritage (i.e. siblings, or cousins) can have completely different points of view on what they identify as. As such, don’t take it as gospel - it’s more of a guideline than anything. Especially since a) these groups often intermarry, meaning that someone can be multiple at once; b) if a Showman stops travelling with the fair and settles, they don’t become a non-traveller, because it’s in your blood, not just a job; c) people can trace their heritage back past a particular group - e.g. my own family (circus and fairgrounds aka Showmen) can be traced back to at least the 1600s, before fairs were really a thing - at the time, they simply identified as gypsies. They didn’t stop being gypsies just because they changed their job/founded a circus/fairground. As such, many in my family identify primarily as a gypsy or traveller, and a Showman secondarily, whilst others do the opposite, or identify as just a Showman or just a traveller/gypsy. Like I say, this classification is not perfect, and is hotly debated, especially at the present time.

So, now, onto the subject of Dick Grayson. I included the tags above mostly because of the ‘tell me you don’t know a character without telling me you don’t know a character’, because, firstly, rude. secondly, the poster makes reference to the Golden Age. And yeah, obviously DC aren’t going to make reference to Dick being a gypsy in the Golden Age - do you really expect writers in the 40s to care enough about the nuances of a character’s ethnic heritage, especially a gypsy, at a time when it was still common even in countries like England (where legal segregation wasn’t a thing) to have signs on pubs like ‘no blacks, no Irish, no dogs, no gypsies’ - btw we still get those occasionally? However, if we look at the comics which have been published in the eighty five years since Dick’s debut, we see a lot of references to Dick having Romani/GRTSB heritage. Again, I’m not well read, but in Grayson’s run, at least, we do see Dick speaking Romani and self-identifying as a gypsy (Nightwing #91 btw). So I’m sorry but it is definitely canon that Dick has at least some Romani heritage (since Romani, by culture, is not taught to non-travellers on purpose, and is thus only passed down from parent to child. Hell, even some of my cousins who are half gypsy - Diddakois - don’t know the language!), and the fact that he speaks it and IDs as a gypsy does suggest that this is something important to him and his character. I know that being a gypsy is certainly a big thing to me (with how the world treats us, you have to be proud of it and have it be important to you to make it worth it).

So now we come onto the second part of my rant: wtf is going on with Haly’s Circus.

So, an important bit of context is, what makes a gypsy a gypsy? And the answer to that, in my opinion, is a mix between culture and blood. You can’t be a gypsy (unless in circumstances like adoption) unless you have both. What I mean by that is, if you’ve got one gypsy great great great grandparent, but weren’t bought up with the culture and morals, you have gypsy heritage but are not a gypsy. However, if you are a gypsy and you decide to settle down in a house, work in an office, and never speak Romani again, you are still a gypsy. Similarly, if you suddenly decide to take on the gypsy lifestyle (maybe work on the fairgrounds or in the circus, or go travelling like the New Age lot), you are not a gypsy, because it’s not in your blood - hence why it’s an ethnicity, not a cultural thing really. As such, it is common for there to be a us vs them mentality even with those working on the ground - you have the gypsy/traveller/Showman who tends to own/run things, and then you have hired non-GRTSB staff (traditionally called chaps, but this has fell out of fashion in recent years).

Now, I make this distinction because Haly’s Circus is really odd in that regard.

Most gypsy (or Showmen - like I say, it can be both at the same time) ran circuses and fairs tend to be family affairs. For example, it might be John Doe’s Circus on the tin, but the Smith family (which Mr Doe’s sister married into) will often work with and alongside the Does in the running and operating of the events. Largely, this is on an ownership level, with various relations then owning the surrounding supporting elements (e.g. sideshows, fairground rides and joints, food kiosks). Other family members might then help ‘mind’ the stuff, or you can hire non-GRTSB staff to help.

Now to draw on my own family history: historically, in the Victorian period, etc, it was common for the gypsy family who owned the circus to also perform in it. For example, in my grandfather’s circus, my grandmother was a lion tamer and equestrian performer in parades. They did also hire non-traveller performers, but there wasn’t such a distinct line. However, by the 30s approximately, this had changed to be a more managerial role, with it being more common to have purely hired performers in the main event. The exception here was for sideshows and fairground rides - it is still common today for these to be ran/worked by GRTSB people (e.g. my grandmother did the dookering - fortune telling - and my grandfather did the boxing; today, we still run and operate the rides and kiosks).

However, we know that Haly’s circus was not like that. We honestly don’t know if Haly was a gypsy or not. Also, usually, gypsies have such big families and are surrounded by them, but we know that the Graysons died with no living family (no William Cobb does not count here) and had no relation to anyone at Haly’s. I suppose if you want a canon answer, you could point to how Haly’s was used by the Court of Owls, but it could just be Like That. This is unusual but not unheard of, but still worth pointing out I think. Alternatively, it could originate from one of the non-GRTSB started circuses which were popular around the turn of the 20th century. Since being a gypsy is really tied to your family name and, ethnically, means you have to be born into it - you can’t just start a fair and claim to be one-, even 120 years later, these families are still met with scepticism - they could marry into a 100% gypsy family in 1901, and have all of their descendants do the same, and still the older generation would look at their surname and scoff and say they’re not a real traveller because that one great grandfather 100 years ago was not a born-and-bred traveller. But honestly, I think 100 years is enough to integrate. So, to summarise, Haly’s circus is quite unusual in that it does not appear to be operated by only gypsies/Showmen, even if it still common for circuses not to be performed in by just gypsies.

Now, to answer, how Romani is Dick Grayson?

Like I say, canon does explicitly tell us that he has Romani heritage, placing him firmly within that second category of the GRTSB acronym (and he also identifies with the more general Gypsy identity). However, it’s frankly unlikely that the writers really went in depth with the whole GRTSB thing, so I think we can tentatively suggest that he might have also identified (keyword here being ‘might’ - this is more canon-compliant HC here y’all) as a Showman (called a Carney in the US) because the whole deal with being a Showman is the circus/fairground aspect (but, like I say, it is still a ‘gypsy’ identity as you must be born a Showman, you can’t just sign up, because it is based on a mutual gypsy heritage which predates fairgrounds/circuses, which means it still fits into what we know of Dick in canon. As such, Dick being a Showman is hardly canon, but it is 100% compliant with what we know of Dick in canon). As I’ve said, they are not mutually exclusive. He could ID as both or either, or just prefer the all-encompassing ‘gypsy’.

Now, we also know that Dick is not 100% gypsy (but tbh who is nowadays? I have two non-gypsy great-great grandfathers). Although Dick’s family history is limited, we know that his great grandfather William Cobb was likely not a gypsy (he could be ethnically, it’s not ruled out, he might have just settled, but let’s go for safety’s sake here and just say he’s not). Similarly, his partner was from a wealthy non-gypsy family, meaning that ethnically, their baby (John Grayson’s father) was likely not a gypsy (though could potentially have been a Diddakoi aka a half-gypsy, if we believe William Cobb to be a settled gypsy). However, since this baby still grew up amongst the circus, it is not impossible that he ended up marrying a gypsy, which would make John Grayson half gypsy - aka a Diddakoi. In fact, I would argue that it is even likely, owing to the fact that Dick speaks Romani, and the fact that Romani is only taught to other members of the family, meaning that somewhere in the Grayson family, a Romani speaker had to be introduced. Mary Grayson (formerly Lloyd), on the other hand, probably was Romani/GRTSB herself. I say this, based mostly on her closeness with the OG Richard aka Raptor from Seeley’s run, who was Romani, and the fact that it is really common in gypsy circles to mostly mix with other gypsies, meaning that it would make sense for the pair to meet based on the fact that they were both gypsies/Romani. Therefore, I would argue that even if Dick is not wholly Romani/gypsy ethnically (but, like I say, who is nowadays?), I think there is enough both blood and culturally to make a pretty good case for him IDing as such, and foregoing the need to make any distinction. (Also, especially nowadays when Diddakois are increasingly more common, it’s not even that prejudiced to be a Diddakoi. A lot of my cousins are and you don’t even think to mention it). Aka. He’s a gypsy. Nuff said.

Then, I suppose, the final thing I’ll address is the ‘whitewashing’ issue, or, what I really think is a non-issue.

Sure, a lot of ethnically Romani people are dark skinned. There is a reason why the term gypsy exists. Now, as my grandad will tell you, gypsies originated from Northern India about 2000 years ago, before moving into Europe. However, a lot can happen in 2000 years. There are a lot of people in the UK, at least, who identify as purely Romani who have very pale skin. My family has a real split: my dad’s side of the family is quite dark, and are often mistaken for being South Asian in the summer due to how dark they get when they tan. Meanwhile, he refers to my mother’s side of the family as being ‘poxy and pasty’. My mother is a full-blooded traveller btw, same as my dad (barring their singular non-gypsy great grandad they each had). You just can’t paint everybody with the same brush. Take me for example: I am pale af and take after my mum’s side of the family, but I’ve still got the stereotypical dark curly hair and blue eyes of gypsies (which my boy also shares). Genetics are weird. So whilst I am a big fan of dark skinned Romani Dick Grayson, it’s also still ok and accurate for him to be paler. This does not make him any less Romani. (Like I say, this is all based on my experiences in the UK).

SOOO… TLDR:

Dick definitely has Romani heritage. This has been canon for decades and cannot be taken away from him.

He canonically self-IDs as a ‘gypsy’ (as well as the Romani heritage), and may also be interpreted as being a Showman (even if this is more of a European term) if you want to see him that way, especially since a lot of Showman families (mine included) can trace their families back past the origin of the fairground to when they simply identified as gypsies or Romani (hence why Dick might ID as a gypsy with Romani heritage. Honestly, this is mostly in the realm of canon-compliant Headcanon now)

The GRTSB classification system is a mess y’all and everyone has a different opinion. Just roll with it and don’t get into the debates is my professional opinion.

Being Romani/a gypsy/a traveller/a Showman is something you are born into. You can’t just become one, or stop being one. So, if we presume that William Cobb had no Romani heritage/was not a settled-down Gypsy, even after he joined Haly’s he did not become one. It really is in your blood, and is tied to family.

Haly’s circus is unusual because it’s mostly not a family affair (though points for the Graysons sticking with it and inheriting their roles - that is realistic!). It’s unclear how many of the members of the circus are Romani.

Dick also has non-traveller heritage due to the William Cobb thing. His grandfather, at least, was probably not ethnically Romani (though he might have been half if we want to view William Cobb as having Romani heritage/being a settled gypsy). However, since Dick canonically has Romani heritage, IDs as a gypsy, and speaks Romani (a language which is closely guarded amongst gypsies), it had to come in somewhere. Honestly, I think we can comfortably view him as being at least 3/4 ethnically Romani/a Gypsy, but also since modern Dick Grayson was not born during prohibition, this really isn’t a problem as it’s really common for Diddakois (half gypsies) to be treated as full gypsies nowadays.

As much as I love darker skinned Dick Grayson, it’s not a requirement. A lot of the GRTSB community (especially in Western Europe/Britain/Ireland) are on the pale side. This does not take away from their identity.

So that’s my rant. It’s like 3.30am so it’s probably a complete mess but hopefully it gets down the basics, at least insofar as it relates to my experiences and understanding as a gypsy from the fairground/a circus family. People will probably have different experiences (especially since I’m in the UK). Although I have based all of this on canon, and as such it should all be canon-compliant to my knowledge (I’ve still not read all the comics!), it is also equally based on my experiences, so you may interpret it completely differently. The beauty of Dick’s character is that he has been built up over 85 years, and as such, we have to do our best to interpret what was laid down in the Golden Age by writers with no idea of what Dick’s character would grow to be. As such, canon really is a bit of a sandbox, and this is my own go at it!

If anyone has any questions/wants clarification/notices any obvious contradictions with canon since I’ve not read them all yet, please feel free to point it out! This is not intended to be a lecture/call out post/dictatorship on how you view canon, just a small exploration of my interpretation of a character whom I relate to as a Romani speaking gypsy from the fairground/circus myself.