#part of me can't help but wonder at the significance

[knightofthenewrepublic]

The Titan Army demigods didn't know Luke . . . or each other!

I was going to give this the more provocative title “How Luke lied to the Titan Army,” because I’ve always felt that when demigods from the TA talk about their goals and motives, they don’t line up with Luke’s plans for world domination. But going back over the moments of every named TA demigod in the series, I noticed something else that might explain the disconnect. Most TA demigods were not in the TA at the same time. Their stories don’t overlap.

The fandom likes to think of the Titan Army as being this tight knit found family of misfits, and that’s a great headcanon; but the truth is, most of them didn’t know each other.

After Luke, the first TA demigod we see is Chris Rodriguez, who joined up at some point between TLT and SOMonsters. He was a son of Hermes, so he at least would have known Luke fairly well, but only him. After his first appearance, we don’t see him again until BTL, when he’s back at Camp Half-blood. He had been sent by Luke to try and scout out the Labyrinth; only to be driven mad, and pop out near Clarisse’s home in Arizona. But while we find out about this in BTL, we are told it happened “last summer,” which means it actually happened in the same summer as SOMo, probably just after Clarisse went home for the year. This means that Chris would have actually spent less than a year in the TA before dropping out of it, and he left before the other named demigods joined.

After Chris leaves, we actually have a gap of almost a year when there is no named demigod besides Luke in the TA, until Ethan joins. Ethan was at Camp “years ago,” before being claimed by Nemesis, and he stayed in Cabin 11, so he would have at least known Luke. But they don’t appear to have been close, because Luke made no effort to find him after leaving. His soldiers only come across Ethan by chance; and even though he’s ready and eager to join, Luke chooses to use him as a sacrifice to appease Antaeus. Ethan still shows the TA an amount of loyalty it didn’t show him, and swears his sword to Kronos. He is the last follower that the titan needed to meet whatever magical quota was necessary for him to perform his possession of Luke’s body. This means that after not seeing each other for years, Luke and Ethan would have interacted for two days at the most before Luke was lost. And Ethan would never have met Chris at all, unless it was years earlier at camp.

And now there’s Alabaster C. Torrington; who, like always, has to be the most extra one in the group. Because the thing about Al that is never stated in the text, but is pretty clear when you read between the lines, is that he never actually met Luke. At all. He would certainly have heard about him, but he apparently had no personal connection to him.

Alabaster and all his siblings joined the TA when their mother Hecate hitched her wagon to Kronos. And we know that happened at the end of BTL, when Dionysus shows up to camp and cheers everyone up with the news:

“The minor gods are changing sides. Morpheus has gone over to the enemy. Hecate, Janus, and Nemesis as well. Zues knows how many more.”

Of course, that would be after Kronos had possessed Luke, so Al never got a chance to meet him. And even though it’s never stated in SOMagic, it’s pretty clearly demonstrated. Alabaster does not mention Luke a single time. And when he explains the war to Claymore, he only talks about the events of TLO; because he didn’t join until the last year of the war.

(He also says that it was Percy who killed Kronos, and we never get an explanation for why he thinks that. Maybe that rumor would spread; but it wouldn’t last long, considering Percy himself would correct anyone who said it. But maybe Al thinks that the story about Luke is Olympian propaganda)

Quite a few of the TA demigods would have joined at that same time, following the lead of their parents, maybe even the majority of their eventual number. I wonder how much those new recruits were told about the TA’s operations before that, but I don’t think it was very much. Kronos wouldn’t want people to be missing Luke; and he definitely wouldn’t want them to know that Percy and friends had bested him so many times.

Finally, there is Silena. Now this might be a hot take, but I don’t think Silena should be considered part of the TA. She didn’t seem to connect with their cause, and probably never swore to Kronos. She only supported Luke himself; first out of misplaced feelings for him, and then because he was blackmailing her. Either way, it’s very unlikely that anyone from the TA other than Luke was contacting her. The others probably knew they had a spy in camp, but not who; it would have been very stupid even by Luke’s standards to let that secret out. You never know when another demigod might have second thoughts, and go the same way as Chris.

So, as much fun as it is to imagine the TA as a big found family, it would never have actually happened in canon. There might have been a strong friendship between Luke and Chris, and then maybe one between Alabaster and Ethan (though come to think of it, Al never mentions Ethan either). But sadly, those are the only relationships the TA would produce outside of fanfiction.

[chuluoyi]

✎ protect

- gojo satoru x reader

the word “protect” now means so much more to him

genre: soft and playful gojo, sugary dump fluff, pregnant!reader

note: anyone craving some soft gojo? :3 based on a suggestion by an anon who needs a soft gojo a while back, thank you!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

When he was 16, Gojo Satoru thought that protecting other people was a pain, and didn't take it seriously.

Later, when he realized that even non-sorcerers deserve to live their lives in peace, he dedicated himself to becoming stronger so that he would be capable to protect them more. However, even then, he didn't perceive their worth as significant.

But when you entered the picture, that measly, glorified word suddenly became so much more.

Usually people would only care about whether he had succeeded his mission or not. His formidable reputation as the epitome of strength means no one is genuinely interested in his wellbeing—no one after Suguru, to be exact—until you did.

After a whirlwind romance of attraction and banters, Satoru reached the conclusion that he wanted you, the only person left who actually made him feel like a human, to stay happy and safe. He would do it with his own hands, even if it meant reshaping this cruel world to be kinder for you with him as your shield.

And the word “protect” gained an entirely new meaning years later, when he rested his head on your swollen belly—the place where his new cherished treasure was growing.

“When will he come out~?” he asked in a whiny tone and a blissful smile, even though he clearly knew the answer.

You shook your head with playful resignation, unable to conceal your smile. "In three weeks. Now help me get comfortable, you dork."

He helped you turn over and fetched a pillow to place under your aching spine. Then, with a mischievous grin, he lightly poked your belly with two fingers, eliciting a yelp from you.

"Don't poke me! You're poking your child!"

To that, Satoru merely threw his head back and snickered like the dumbass he was. He then tenderly rested his hand on the taut skin of your belly, gently massaging it, smiling with ardent happiness.

"Can't really believe it," he sighed, brimming with the purest sense of contentment. "A mini Gojo, huh... You're really doing a honorable work."

A child of his and yours. He had always wondered how he would be after seeing him firsthand—would he laugh just like he had been doing now, or will it be the first instance that move him to the point of shedding tears? One of the reasons he eagerly anticipated his son's birth was just to discover how he would react.

Seeing the weight of his baby growing within you, making you rounder and fuller, stirred a deep well of warm emotions in him with each passing day though.

"I am," you retorted cheekily, rolling your eyes. "In fact, you should be revering and worshipping me for carrying your spawn."

He merely hummed in a childlike manner, feeling his baby move around under his touch. You were about to roast him again with something funny when he leaned down and planted a kiss on your tummy, whispering to it.

"Please come out already~ Papa wants to meet you!"

Your heart swelled with warmth at that moment. Gojo Satoru was many things, but he wasn't typically known for his softness—he was often seen as this all-perfect being, and so witnessing him acting purely on his human emotions brought you a sense of happiness.

“Who do you think he’ll take after?” you mused.

“Hmmm. Me, obviously. He'll be hot just like me!” he quipped proudly, and you playfully smacked him on the arm.

Satoru caught your hand and kissed it tenderly amidst his grin. "But I want him to have your personality. I'd hate to see him be a show-off."

"So you do realize that you're actually a menace."

He laughed out loud, patting the generous swell of your belly again with a smug look on his face.

"I know, but I'm your menace, and that's all that matters."

And when his adorable son was born less than three weeks later and you passed out due to sheer exhaustion, Satoru vowed by everything in the heavens and the earth that he wouldn't spare anything to protect you and his child from this curse-filled world.

Epilogue - on the night of the birth -

“Satoru—” you panted, grimacing, head jerking back as your womb throbbed and pulsed in order to bring forth your child into the world. “I… feel like I’m going to faint…”

Worry etched his face as you leaned on him. “Hey, hey… Calm down sweetheart, relax and catch up on your breath, okay? Don’t worry, he’ll come out soon.”

Somehow his words rubbed you the wrong way.

“Hahh—this… is because of you! This happened because you shoved your stick into me! You horny bas—aahh!”

“Well, hey! Last I remembered, you begged me to put it into you! And I'm not—pfft—”

“Then what are you?!”

“Hmmm, nothing but a man who got you pregnant, sweetheart~”

“If I bleed out and die, it’s going to be your fault, you evil, wretched sorcerer!”

[power-handmaiden]

Chuck Tingle interview

OK, here is the FINAL 2024 Tingles My Butt post, which I've been pretty hyped for. I still kind of can't believe this. While I was figuring out how I'd move on from 2024, @drchucktingle generously offered to answer some questions of mine to commemorate the end of my tingler project! Here they are!

-Considering that your process for tinglers is just to write it out and not stress about proofreading and editing, was it weird for you to see someone decide to go back, examine, and contemplate every single tingler published in the past decade?

the whole dang project was really wonderful for me, for exactly the reason you have just said. tinglers are very STREAM OF CONSCIOUS and only edited with one quick pass so while i think this adds to their honesty and rawness it also means that my time with them is limited. really watching someone go back through them at this depth was like reading a diary that i have not opened for many years, and it jumps around through time in a very beautiful way. it was very moving

-I love tingler character names. I personally admire how many great ones you come up with. (I never know what to name my ttrpg characters.) You just come up with all these great names that seemingly spring from nowhere, how do you do it?

DANG great question cant believe i have not been asked this before but yes there is a type of name that shows up in the tingleverse that is unusual and has a certain feeling and cadence that is very specific. if i am trotting along with sweet barbara and there is a name of a product or a place or something that has this tone we will say ‘oh thats a tingleverse name.’ the reason i wanted to do this in the books was as a very subtle way of saying these stories exist on a timeline that is RIGHT next to ours, so in some ways it is exactly the same as our world but there are these little cultural differences with things like chocolate milk and spaghetti and then with the names. you will have buckaroos like justin and sarah trotting along next to buckaroos named corb torbins-quill or borto lart.

-So, as a reader, reading from 2014 to now, old tinglers and new tinglers feel different to me. I believe you when you say tinglers have always been sincere, but they feel MORE sincere than they used to be. Like, I feel like there was some self-consciousness and irony in some of the early tinglers that you've since let go of and embraced the Chuck Tingle voice more. I don't know, am I imagining this, or does this square with your tingler writing journey? If it does, what has that process been like for you?

i think you are absolutely correct. the intention with tinglers was always to be a place for me to express myself with complete sincerity, but the practical way of HOW to trot like this took a bit of an evolution to arrive at. in other words i knew the basics, but actually refining the best way to express yourself and perform your art takes time. maybe in the same way goin back and watching season one of a tv show can feel very different from season three, even though they are part of the same expression. 

similar thing happened with in my chuck PRESENTATION as well, where my main focus was to stay anonymous so the metaphors i used to talk about my life were still true but laid on much thicker. even my attire was a large gi so that you would not even be able to see my shape, which has obviously changed now because i wear suits these days. all of this was a process of starting in a place i knew was important to me and then peeling off the parts that were not helping the message or expression over time

-Is there anything you could tell us about the significance of Borson Reems? I feel like he's more than just another Buck Trungle/Chuck Tangle/etc but I'm not sure what exactly...

yes borson reems is god. not that i believe in GOD in the way that most buckaroos talk about god (i am agnostic) but within the tingleverse, borson reems is an avatar for the creator of that world. technically i am borson reems, because i am writing the books. the question is: are we all the gods of our own little worlds that we create? i do not know, but when i look around at my buds and the joy and love they bring to various timelines they sure seem like gods to me

-A lot of no-sex tinglers (especially ones that aren't romance-focused) vary in terms of plot and structure a lot more than erotic tinglers. Is your writing process for these stories any different?

same process actually, but the sex scenes in tinglers are about 1500 to 2000 words long, and total tingler length is 4000 words which means if you are not including that portion you are going to have to come up with some creative way to fill that space in the story and a new axis for story to turn on. so the variety comes from me getting creative and trying out different axis points

-In "Not Pounded By My Book "Pounded In The Butt By My Non-Fungible Tingler That Is Literally This NFT" Because Of The Current Catastrophic Environmental And Ethical Impact" there are references to an earlier draft of the story that was never released because you ended up disagreeing with the message. Are there any other tinglers that never got finished and/or published, if you'd be willing to talk about any of them?

oh this is a VERY good question. the story of the NFT tingler is that when buckaroos were first talkin on nfts online and nobody really knew what they were, my first thoughts were just ‘oh this is interesting what the heck is this?’ this is my way with most CURRENT EVENTS. and i thought ‘this would be an interesting tingler, i suppose maybe i should make the tingler an ACTUAL nft’. this was in VERY early days so i did not really even understand what an nft was (neither did 99 percent of buckaroos yet honestly). so i looked into it just enough to actually MAKE a nft tingler that was a real nft and put it out. lasted for about thirty seconds before buckaroos were messaging saying ‘oh this is bad chuck you should look into what this is’ and i DID look into it and thought’ oh yeah this is terrible nevermind’. i took down the original and thought ‘well THIS is what art is all about. this is where i thrive in a world of moving living art that is in communication with itself’. so i dove into the research and actually started to understand NFTS and then i repurposed the story into a strongly anti-nft tingler and put that on out instead.

as far as OTHER tinglers that kind of move and breathe and live like this, in communication with the audience, GAY T-REX LAW FIRM is another very good example. that one i wrote early on and i think it was kind of in the model of something like fifty shade of grey, where issues of kink and consent and communication are not really handled well. i think at the time it came out the story was okay, but as time went on it always kind of bothered me and finally i thought ‘i love art that exists in the REAL WORLD and changes and evolves, so lets rewrite that story and fix some of these mistakes.’ honestly it is something i wish more artists would be open to. its okay to let something hold strong against a changing timeline, but it is also okay to explore what its like to take the notes that time gives us

-This one is about Chuck Tingle that exists in deeper layers of the Tingleverse that operate on tingler logic: what does the location inside his/your butt look like?

probably a nice mid-century modern home up in laurel canyon neighborhood of los angeles. kind of quiet and small like a cabin but also very cozy, like the kind of place where you would put on a crosby stills nash and young record on vinyl and gaze out into the woods for a while then walk down the hill for dinner at a little cafe where you spot some actor from a 60s tv show also having dinner in the corner booth. this basically sounds like the start of a tingler and in that tingler i will say the actor would be a bigfoot.

-OK this one is very self-indulgent but if you could help settle this frequent point of discussion I have with my wife- where do the following fit in the Tingleverse bigfoot/dinosaur/unicorn/living object(/human/does not apply?) taxonomy?

-a ghost of a regular human

-a regular human vampire

-a human/fish mermaid

-a sentient winged horse

-a sentient centipede large enough to wrap around a mountain several times (she is handsome)

alright lets trot through these. a GHOST is not one of the four tingle types so you can have a ghost racecar or a ghost unicorn or a ghost bigfoot. ghosts are outside of the four types and do not have a classification

a VAMPIRE is also outside of the four types. so you can have a vampire bigfoot or, of course, a vampire night bus. does not strictly fall into any of the four main categories

MERMAIDS are technically a long lost species of unicorn I DONT MAKE THE RULES I JUST EXPLAIN THEM. this makes the MERMOPED tingler a little confusing but i had to pick a category and that one went into living object. now that i mention it possibly the only tingler that is technically a double category of unicorn/living object.

WINGED HORSE is easy, thats a pegasus which is a species of unicorn just like a mermaid

a SENTIENT CENTIPEDE LARGE ENOUGH TO WRAP AROUND A MOUNTAIN is an ancient creature, therefore dinosaur tingler

-My other self-indulgent question: do you have a favorite bug? (Or second-favorite if you count Mothman as a bug)

i love finding spiders in the house and giving them a pet because they are doing a good job livin their lives doin their thing. close second would be a pretty ladybug

-Any thoughts on what tinglers will be like in 2025? Do you expect to be writing a lot of political tinglers again, like post-2016?

honestly i really do not like writing specifically political tinglers anymore, and the amount that i write has gradually dropped over time (i think ALL tinglers are political but in a different way). so honestly i think i will write a few political tinglers but not many. my hypothesis on this is that my HORROR NOVELS are very very political and so maybe i get a lot of these ideas out of my system that way now. when it comes to tinglers i just wanna explore my OWN mind and heart and butt more

THANK YOU for these wonderful questions and thank you for your tingler-a-day project it was so moving and powerful. what a treat it was an honor to be a part of something so beautiful. THIS PROVES LOVE IS REAL

[letsgoletsgetit08]

soft hours pt. 1 - christmas

how they would celebrate christmas with you (plus a suprise they have trouble keeping secret)

hyung line

warnings: mdni, christmas fluff, smut

pairings: park seonghwa x f!reader, kim hongjoong x f!reader, jeong yunho x f!reader, kang yeosang x f!reader

word count: 3.4k

author's note: I picture this as slightly aged up members and their significant others, still famous and working in the industry but with solo careers (hence the ability to take actual time off for themselves). But I did try to keep that part vague. I'm not religious but I grew up with Christmas, but feel free to sub in whatever winter holiday tickles your fancy. Maknae line coming soon!

likes, comments, and reblogs always welcome as long as you're not a minor!

Park Seonghwa: Park Seonghwa loves Christmas and even moreso, winter. He has gifts and activities planned every day of December leading up to Christmas Day. He takes you ice skating, sledding, to have your picture made with Santa - even though you're both definitely too old, and yes, some of the gifts are small, like your favorite candy, some are tokens to use for quality time with him, he’s a big fan of an advent calendar. But some of the gifts, the ones closer and on Christmas proper, are very nice. Matching bracelets with both of your birthstones, a purse you had your eye on that you mentioned in passing earlier that year.

The gifts are wonderful but your favorite part is the quality time you get to spend with him. Christmas Eve is spent in the matching pajamas he gifted you, White Christmas playing in the background while the two of you assemble the Lego set you gifted him a day early, sipping on spiked apple cider and taking breaks for long, tender make out sessions and short bursts of aggressive kisses and cuddle attacks.

You take a break from building the set to read your book, curled up behind him on the couch, and when you inevitably nod off, he only pouts for a minute when you don't reply to his excitement about finishing an elaborate section of the Lego set, turning to see you with your chin to your chest, book slipping out of your hand.

You stir only when he's kissing your forehead and urging you to go brush your teeth because, “You always regret it when you don't, my little rein-dear”. He looks at you expectantly when he makes the pun and you try not to laugh at his stupid joke but you can't help it when he's cheesing in anticipation. He stares at you for a while as you fall asleep next to him in bed, watching your eyelashes flutter, resisting the urge to keep kissing your cheeks, lest he disturb you. He's too excited for the morning to fall asleep fast, but watching you is a treat.

He's up at the crack of dawn with anticipation and resists waking you up for as long as he can until eventually, he caves, situating himself between your legs, pulling down your underwear and taking his sweet time as he eats you out, his mouth gentle and languid as he eases you into consciousness. It's one of your favorite ways to wake up and he saves it for special occasions. By the time you're fully awake, you're a whiny mess, begging for him until he gives in, too excited to start the day to make this one of his longer sessions. 

“Merry Christmas to me.” You joke sleepily as he pushes inside of you slowly. 

“Mmh your pussy is the best gift I could have asked for.” He replies as he bottoms out. 

It doesn't take long for either of you to finish, and it takes every fiber in his being to not dash out of the room immediately to go get coffee started and watch you open your final gift, but he exercises some self control, cuddling you and helping you back into your pants. You giggle at his urgency. 

His last present is an envelope containing a hand-written love letter and two plane tickets for a weekend together over New Years on Jeju Island. He's just glad you’ve yet to find the ring he's had hidden in his closet for three months now. He plans to propose as the clock strikes twelve into the new year. 

Kim Hongjoong: Hongjoong is oddly withholding, nervous, and antsy around two weeks before Christmas when you assume your gift got delivered. He's bad about spending way too much on you, despite swearing up and down that it's, “Just something small!” Fortunately for you, you can tell when he's lying because his eyes go shifty and he gets cagey and jumpy. He feels bad he can't spend as much time with you as he'd like around the holidays but when you bring him coffee to his studio on Christmas Eve, he surprises you with a song he's working on about how he'd like to spend the holidays with you. 

“My mind kept drifting to you while I was trying to work on something else so I had to get this out of my system before I could keep working on something else. It's kinda cheesy but-”

“Joongie, no.” You pull him in for a kiss, laughing at his dumbfounded face, “It's perfect, baby. You know, I would be perfectly happy if this was the only thing you got me for Christmas.” 

“Baby! No way.” He pulls you into his lap on the couch in his studio, “You're far too special to me for that. Plus, I really think you're going to love what I got you.”

“What did you get me!?” You try to catch him off guard. 

“I-” He almost fell for it, “Hey! I'm not telling.” He starts to tickle you as punishment, ending with the two of you nose to nose, limbs tangled, horizontal on the couch. 

“Can you give me one gift early then?” You let your hands wander between his thighs, sticking your bottom lip out and widening your eyes, knowing he has a hard time saying no when you pout and plead. 

“You’re going to end up keeping me here all night.” He pretends to resist, but he was already kissing down the column of your neck and reaching for the hem of your shirt. 

“Please, Joong.” You didn't know which thing you were pleading for at that point as he derobed you and worked you open with his fingers before taking you right there in his studio, both of you glad for the sound proof room. 

You convince him later to give his work a rest for the night and come home to sleep in a real bed. The next morning, you wake to him sitting by you on the bed, meticulously wrapped gift in his hands, nearly bouncing with anticipation. 

“Baby-” You blink your eyes open, knowing you look a hot mess from your slumber. 

“Merry Christmas!” He shoves the gift in your hands. 

You unwrap it painstakingly slowly just to watch him vibrate on the spot in his excitement. 

It's a beautiful custom winter coat from Balmain, lined with silk that has Hongjoong’s “No1LikeMe” printed on it, exactly in your style and you can tell even before trying it on that it will fit perfectly.

“So this is why you needed my measurements in March. Not because you would lose a bet with Wooyoung.” You laughed at his silly excuse. 

“Yeah, yeah, you caught me but DOYOULIKEIT?!” His words rushed out as you tackled him to the bed. 

“Kim Hongjoong. I love it.” You pepper his face with kisses, “Please never tell me how much you spent on this.” 

He knew this commentary was coming because he gave you a smarmy grin, “Actually! This was a personal favor. It's one of a kind. Olivier refused to let me pay a dime because, ‘Your girl keeps you fed and for that I owe her.’ His words.” 

“Ask me from my childhood if I ever thought I'd have personal favor with a designer from a high end brand and I'd laugh in your face.” You shook your head as you checked yourself out in the mirror. 

“Thank you so much, baby.” You cage him in on the bed. 

“Wait, wait. Check the breast pocket before you seduce me again.” He says this a bit breathless and you think you might kill him if he proposes to you while you wear one of his old t-shirts, your Christmas underwear, and the coat he just gifted you. Not to mention you still had bed hair and morning breath. 

Kill or kiss, they were only two letters different, and you ended up choosing the second as you stared at the ring of your dreams in your hand. 

“Hongjoong-” You were at a loss for words. 

“Please marry me, my love. My life won't be complete until you agree to be bound to me spoiling you and surprising you by the law.” 

“Yes!” You kiss him, still in disbelief, “Yes, Hongjoong. Of course I'll marry you.”

You shimmy his pants down enough to free him and move your underwear to the side, too excited to do more, and take him in one go, making love to him wearing both of his gifts. 

“This is embarrassing but I got you the exact same things.” You joke as the two of you cuddle.

“Oh, how embarrassing!” Hongjoong jokes back. He's impossible to buy for, always getting himself what he needs as he discovers a need for it. 

He doesn't expect you to have put together a binder full of photocards for your final gift to him. You put together a collection of photos of the two of you and some of just yourself. Some naughty ones of just yourself. “I was tired of being the only one with the collection.” 

“It’s perfect,” He nuzzles his nose to yours, “My fiancé is a genius gift giver.” 

Jeong Yunho: The man loves the holidays and this year is certainly no exception. He's so excited because he's convinced your families to celebrate together on Christmas Eve. You're more than a little suspicious with his hushed phone calls and the guilty puppy face he makes when you ask who called and he has to make up a lie. Twelve days before Christmas he surprises you with your first gift, a pre-paid facial appointment. The other days follow suit with a massage, hair appointment, nail appointment, things of that nature, culminating with shoes, a dress, jewelry, and a very nice set of lingerie that he wants you to wear on Christmas. It's beyond obvious at that point, but you suspend your disbelief for his sake, knowing how excited he is for this moment. 

Christmas Eve with your combined families goes better than you imagined it would. The food was good, the wine and conversation flowed, and mass hadn't even lasted that long. He waits until everyone is playing charades in the living room, and he brings you up with him after pretending to read his word on the slip of paper, holding up 4 fingers to indicate it was a four-word answer. He scans the room with his eyes before taking your left hand in his own and getting down on one knee.

“Will you marry me?” You ask as if you're still playing the game. 

“You're too good at this game.” He kisses your hand and pulls the ring box out of his pocket, “Sweetheart, I'm convinced you were created just for me. Falling in love with you over these years has been the greatest joy of my life and I never want to stop. Will you please do me the honor of marrying me?” 

“Yunho…” Tears escape your eyes at his words, “I would love nothing more. Yes, baby.” 

He drops the ring box after removing the ring and slides it onto your finger before standing, picking you up, and twirling you around to the tune of the applause of both of your families. 

Later that night, he unwraps you like the gift he considers you to be, taking off the clothes he bought for you piece by piece before turning you into a panting mess on his mattress as he insists on getting you off with his hands and mouth twice before he finally pushes inside of you, guiding your legs back with careful hands until you're practically bent and half and he’s able to fuck you deep like you like it, the head of his cock kissing your cervix every few strokes. 

“Fuck, I love when you take me like this, honey. I can’t wait to fuck a baby into you.”

“God, yes, Yunho-” You groan as he hits your sweet spot over and over. “Give me a few years, but we can pretend in the meantime.” 

“Mmh, I like the sound of that,” He grunts from the effort, “Gonna fuck you so full.”

“Everyone will see I'm yours.” You're about to fall apart around him. 

“All. Mine.” He punctuates his words with thrusts, “All. Fucking. Mine. Forever. Fuck, baby, come with me.” 

“Yunho!” You cry out as you finish, your orgasm prolonged by the feeling of him pumping you full of his seed.

Truth be told, at least in the heat of the moment, you wouldn't have cared at all had he been able to get you pregnant right then. But you knew as you fell asleep in his arms, how peaceful it was with just the two of you, you would be glad you had a few years with him as yours alone before bringing a whole other human being into the mix.

Kang Yeosang: Yeosang was not necessarily a fan of the holidays before he met you, but he adores them now. More than anything, he adores watching you enjoy them. He buys you matching berets and thinks he's so slick booking the two of you a room at a ski lodge in Austria the week of Christmas. Neither of you intend to ski, but Vienna goes all out for the holiday and he wants to spend several snow days shopping, eating, and sightseeing with you. He buys you anything you show a slight interest in, despite your protests, but his real gift is tucked safely in his luggage at the lodge. 

Two days into your trip, the two of you are exhausted and decide to spend the day around the ski village rather than in the city. You find Yeosang staring at you with hearts in his eyes more than usual that day. Normally you would blush and tell him to stop, but today, you allowed it. After all, you were doing the same thing. 

“Oh! This looks fun!” He holds up a Sanrio puzzle he found in the kid section. “I know it's for kids but-”

“We're getting it.” You smiled at how his face lit up. He was so impossible to not just completely adore and fawn over at all times.

“What if we go back to our room, order room service, and open this bad boy up?” He asks you, conspiratorial glint in his eye.

“This is why I love you.” You kiss the apple of his cheek. He's had to train himself not to move so you can't reach him when you try to kiss his face, due to years of acting like he hated it when his friends would do it. 

“I love you more, angel.” He grabs your hand and leads you over to check out, calling a slightly mispronounced “Bitteschön!” over his shoulder to the woman working the cash register on the way out. 

After dinner, spiked hot chocolates in hand, fireplace roaring in the hearth, the two of you work on the puzzle in comfortable silence. As much as you love talking to Yeosang and would pay good money to live inside his brain for a day, you cherish the fact that the two of you can have such peace in one another’s company. No compulsion to disturb the stillness. 

“Oh!” Yeosang looked up after a while, “Look, jagi. It's snowing!” 

“Really?!” You loved the snow. Well, you loved looking at the snow. 

“I wish it could snow inside. But not be cold.” Yeosang stood, pulling you to your feet and leading you over to the big bay window overlooking the powdery slopes.

“You know what? Yeah, that sounds ideal.” You chuckle, amused as ever at how his mind works. You tuck yourself under his arm and he picks up on your cue, pulling you securely to his side. 

Sure, it had been snowy the whole time you'd been there, but there was something magical about the big, fat flakes swirling in the air and glittering as they fell on the ground in the bright moonlight. 

“We'll probably be snowed in tomorrow.” Yeosang concludes as the two of you watch it accumulate, pulling you in front of himself so he could loop his arms around your waist and kiss the side of your neck.  

“I mean, we're at a ski resort-”

“Shh, babe. We're going to be snowed in tomorrow.” Yeosang says a little more firmly. 

You catch his drift, “Oh! Right. Yes. We'll definitely be snowed in tomorrow! Oh no! What will we do?” You humor him. 

“Don't worry, my beautiful girl, I'll make sure we're entertained all day while we're snowed in.” He mumbles in your ear, his voice low and carrying an unmistakable edge of desire on it.

“Mmh, like what?” You answer, breath hitching in your throat as his hands roam your body, one of them skimming the waistband of your pajama pants, the other finding a light but possessive position around your neck, “I can think of several things. But to start I'm going to fuck you against this window so we can watch the snow fall as I make you come over and over again on this cock.” 

“Fuck, Sangie-” You gasp as his hand blazes a trail to your core, knowing it will already be wet for him because he knows well what he does to you.

He's good to his word, dedicated as ever to your pleasure, stretching you around his girth, fingers on your clit as he makes you come the first time, heeding your request happily to move in front of the fire as you caught a chill with your bare face and nipples pressed to the cold window. 

He lays down one of the many plush blankets in front of the fireplace, ensuring you're comfortable before kissing down the slopes of your form, mouth landing between your legs, fingers taking over what his dick finished the first time, taking a more leisurely route to your release the second time, but quick to stuff you full again immediately afterwards for the third, words lost on both of you as pleasure rolls through your bodies in tandem. 

He washes your hair in the shower afterwards and you're nearly overwhelmed with love for the man you get to call yours. Perfect in every way. 

Both of you realize it's well past midnight as you cuddle together in bed, “Merry Christmas, precious.” Yeosang smiles at you, eyes once again full with a depth of love you had seen before but not as often as you had recently. 

“Merry Christmas, Sangie.” You return his gaze, hoping he knows just how much you mean it. 

“Marry me.” He blurts out, lost in your eyes, “Sorry, I had a whole thing planned and I have a ring, I swear-” 

You cut him off with a kiss, “Kang Yeosang.” You snicker, “Yes. God, yes, I'd be so happy to.” 

“Really?” He smiles so big it looks like it hurts his cheeks and it definitely hurts your heart with how pure and sweet he is. 

“Yes, baby, of course!” You kiss him again, unable to resist. 

The kiss deepens and your activities from earlier have an unprecedented encore, all but rendering your shower pointless as you fall apart repeatedly in one another's arms well into the early hours of the morning, watching the sunrise paint the ground pink, the exact shade, you note, of the birthmark by Yeosang’s eye. 

The two of you sleep late into the day. You're disoriented for a moment as Yeosang flies out of bed and begins rummaging through his luggage, finally finding what he sought and returning to bed with the ring box in hand. You had almost forgotten, or thought it was a dream, and you can't stop the tears as they fall when he fits the most beautiful ring you've ever seen onto your finger. 

“I'm yours. Forever. For as long as you'll have me, my love.” Yeosang’s deep voice rumbles through your bones, rearranging your neurotransmitter transporters to stop the reuptake of the norepinephrine, serotonin, and dopamine that was produced any time he spoke. 

“I want you forever, Yeosang.” 

And it was true. You were sure you were the happiest and luckiest person on earth to have earned the trust, love, and dedication of the man beside you. He felt the same way and he intended to show it to you every day for the rest of your life.

[sanguinesky-if]

Well… Today marks exactly one year since the demo was first released to the public.

Part of me can't believe I made it through the year, working nonstop on my story.

I'm not going to lie, it was more difficult than I expected, and I definitely wasn't ready as a person for the challenges it brought.

Despite that, I feel much happier since I started dedicating almost all my time to Sanguine Sky. I've learned so much, and I hope that growth shows in my work.

I also hope I've grown not only as a writer but as a person, and I will continue to work hard to achieve my goal: to bring my story to its finished form in the way I imagine it—and even better, hoping it will leave a special trace, even if just a small part of how special it feels to me.

And, of course, I want to thank everyone who has supported me throughout this year.

I know I should say more than just "thank you", but the gratitude I feel for all the support I'm receiving makes any words feel lacking.

Still, I want to try: thank you for reading my story, for your kind words, for the time you've spent on me and the story, and especially to everyone who supported me on Patreon, helping me grow my story alongside me.

Please know that it makes a significant difference, and I'm truly lucky to have such wonderful readers.

Thank you for being here and reading to the end! ♥

[smallmightsupremacy]

Izuku isn't losing his arms and here's why:

Okay so I know that we're all freaking out over that one manga panel, but we really shouldn't be.

Deku isn't going to lose his arms. It's all in his head.

Just stay with me.

First and foremost, look at the reactions from the characters when they join the battlefield. Specifically Aizawa:

What about this screams 'one of my students just lost both of his arms and may not end up having a future as a hero anymore?'

You would think that if Hori were to really go through with Izuku losing his arms, he would put more emphasis on the characters' reactions to make it more impactful, right?

To further reinforce this idea, we also need to consider the significance of Izuku's hands in Katsuki's arc. Whether you view their relationship as romantic or not, you can't deny that Izuku's hands holds significance to Katsuki. It represents the time when their relationship first fell apart, and I think in order to call their relationship fully 'healed' and complete Katsuki's growth, he's going to need to accept Izuku's hand again.

I mean, look at how foreshadowed the handhold is. There's no way they're not going to be holding hands by the end of the series. It's a necessity at this point.

And yes, you can argue that they already did hold hands, but to me that handhold didn't seem like the official one. It wasn't as impactful as it could've been. Now, while I'm not saying that the handhold didn't have any emotion to it, I feel like it's impact got a little diluted by Katsuki's revival. It wasn't the main focus. I think that the proper handhold is going to come later and be in it's own moment.

And, I mean, Izuku kind of needs his hands for that to happen.

So now you may be wondering, if Izuku hasn't lost his arms, then how do you explain what's happening to him right now?

Well, like I said earlier, it's all in his head. I think it's AFO fucking around with his mind.

I think AFO is somehow manipulating the vestige world and OFA mental connection he was with Izuku to make him hallucinate that he's lost his arms. He wants Izuku to crumble, and what better way to do that than to convince him that his dream is over and that there's nothing he can do?

I feel like this has also been foreshadowed in a way too. Take a look at this picture:

This image already foreshadowed Ochako getting stabbed in the chest, so perhaps it's also foreshadowing Izuku's fate?

The knife is in his head, so perhaps it's hinting at him being affected psychologically?

Also, the idea that it's only those that are connected to the vestige realm that can see the illusions that AFO is planting would be a great way to get Katsuki to be a part of the final fight too.

We already know that's he's going to be involved somehow. Hori himself said that the ending for mha was going to be better than the ending for Hero's Rising (the one Kats and Izu share OFA), and what better way to improve that than have Katsuki come save him from the mind fuckery?

I also think that finally having Izuku and Katsuki fight side by side has been foreshadowed for a long time, and if that really were to happen, then there's no better time for that than the final fight.

Also, Katsuki's really the only one that can save Izuku right now if my theory were to be true. He's the only character that fits the very specific requirements that Izuku needs (being connected to the vestige realm, and also having a willingness to save/help Izuku).

Speaking of, Katsuki being connected to the vestige realm was a shock for us all, and it doesn't make sense for why Horikoshi would show us such ground-breaking information if he didn't plan on using it later. This has to be the later. There's no other case where I can see Katsuki's connection to the vestige realm being implemented into the story again other than this.

So here's the TL;DR:

Izuku is being mindfucked by AFO and Katsuki is going to be the one that brings him back to reality

[justwinginglife]

Hi! Im not sure if you're open some request or I might give you some idea. I wonder what Hoshina's reaction when his s/o asked him curious question “what if I disappeared one day?"

Feel free to ignore this request! ^^

Omg my first request- hi! So sorry, this got so much sadder than I wanted it to be but the short answer is the poor guy just can't live without you.

My One & Only

You knew marrying Soshiro Hoshina was going to be the best decision of your entire life. You'd give up a winning lottery ticket just to be able to stand next to him at the altar. Marrying him was like winning the lottery anyway, only he was a lot more attractive than a couple of numbers in your bank account.

Nothing could compare to the feeling of waking up in the middle of the night just to check the time and realizing he was wrapped around you tightly like he couldn't sleep without your skin on his. Even when he'd roll off of you, some part of him would always be touching you, whether it was his leg thrown over yours, or his arm under your neck, or even just his shoulder snug against your shoulder. He needed to touch you like he needed to breathe. And you'd never get tired of it.

Your favorite part was when you'd get up to start getting ready for work, or even just to go to the bathroom, and he'd feel you move and roll over to you mumbling "Wait... don't go, I haven't said I love you yet, okay I love you," sleep still dripping from his voice, and then he'd conk out again. You'd kiss him on the forehead, cheek, lips, anywhere really, and then whisper back, "I love you too baby." And even if he was out cold, he'd smile like he heard you.

You loved everything about being married to him, even the fights- because he couldn't stay mad at you for long. The longest fight you'd had with him in the years you'd been together lasted less than 24 hours- you'd had enough of his pouting and his cold shoulder, and so you did what any rational person would do when they wanted to go to bed and have their significant other actually come to bed with them, you stripped naked. Ended that argument real quick. In fact, he was in the bed before you even got your panties all the way off, he wanted to help.

But, after only being legally married for a few weeks, you finally discovered one thing you did not like about being married. You'd have to have the talk with him. What happens if one of you dies?

Insurance companies wanted to know, your jobs wanted to know. Honestly, you hated to talk about it, but some part of you wanted to know as well.

So one day, you sat him down to talk about life insurance, emergency contacts, all the things you don't want to talk about when you're freshly married, but that need to be talked about anyway. Who do you want me to call first if you're in an accident? Do you want to be resuscitated if you're injured beyond belief and wouldn't be able to live a normal life again even if you were brought back from the brink of death? Do you want to be cremated or buried?

Then, under the guise of talking all things rational and logical, you slipped in a question you'd secretly wanted to know. "What if I... disappeared one day? What would you do?"

He went silent, gripping the legal paperwork in his hands tightly. You hadn't expected the vast amount of pain that would stain his eyes and spill over to darken his face. You reached over to rub his hand until he loosened his hold on the papers. He sighed.

"Like if you... went missing? Or... died?" He asked, the words like knives scraping out of his throat, threatening his very livelihood.

You nodded slowly.

"Well... if you were... missing, I'd search my whole life for you. I'd never give up. And if you... died. I'd be right there with you." He said solemnly.

You wanted to stop this conversation right now and tell him something like you'd never die or you'd never go missing, anything to erase the hurt that he was in right now because of you. But you couldn't stand the thought of you actually dying or going missing and him spending his whole life in pain because he couldn't move on.

You kneel on the floor in front of him and grab both his hands which have now been balled up into fists. You kiss at his fists and keep kissing them until his hands relax and wrap around your hands. He's shaking but he holds onto you tight like you'll disappear if he lets go.

"Baby." You say, making sure you have his attention. He won't look at you, it's like he knows what you're going to say. He always knows what you're going to say.

You pull a hand away from his trembling fingers and cup his face with it, stroking smoothly at his cheek. "If I die, I want you to promise me you'll live on and be happy."

He shakes his head no immediately. "Can't do that, love."

You smile at him warmly. "Baby. It'll be okay. I want you to be happy."

For the first time in your life, you think you might make him cry. If this weren't such a depressing moment, you might tease him about the Vice Captain of the Third Division being such a crybaby. But you can't tease him. You can't even seem to get anymore words out when you see the state he's in. He's acting like you're dead right now. His face has gone pale and clammy and his fingers must be bruised from pressing into your skin so hard to make sure you're still there. His eyes... you almost can't look at his eyes anymore as you see the tears start to collect. It's like he's drowning but there's no bottom so he just keeps sinking and sinking.

"I-" He starts but this time the words get stuck. He blinks and the force of it pushes a tear over the edge. You watch as it trails down his cheek, feeling helpless but also in a heartbreaking way, feeling so very loved by him. He swallows and then clears his throat. "I-I'm happy.... because you're here. How could I... be h-happy... without.. without you?"

You can't take it anymore. You stand up and throw your arms around him, hoping maybe he'll forget this whole conversation if you smother him with enough love. He pulls you in even closer to him and sighs deeply, like he's exhaling his first fresh breath of air after being submerged for so long. You think you might crack a rib from how tight he's holding onto you, but you're scared to pull away, having never seen him so vulnerable like this.

"Don't cry baby, you're going to make me cry." You mumble into his shoulder.

"Don't die then. Don't give me a reason to cry."

You smile against his shoulder. "Alright baby. You got me. I won't die. Ever."

He runs his fingers through your hair and you wonder if the repetitive motion is to soothe him or you. "That's my girl," he murmurs against your neck as he nuzzles up against you.

"That's my girl," he repeats again, "My one, my only."

[irisintheafterglow]

the first time you tell opla!zoro that you love him, you're not sober either. (part one here!)

"i just-i just don't know what to do," you sniffle, another wave of emotions leaking through your tired eyes and onto your tear-stained shirt. "i'm so in love with him it makes me physically ill, nami."

"mhmm, i can tell," she replies absentmindedly, taking another sip from her drink in the musty light of the bar.

"nami," you plead, wasted out of your mind with your cheek pressed against the dirty table.

"sweetheart," she replies with the same melodrama, unable to hide the amusement in her voice.

"i'm so sad." your voice breaks on the last word and you make a loud hiccup-like noise that has the other guests of the bar eyeing you warily. you couldn't guess how long it'd been since you dragged nami from her hammock to go drink your sorrows away. to her credit, she stayed with you until her patience was thinner than a paper cut.

"i know you are," she says slowly after you'd gone over the same topic about four times in the last five minutes. "look, i feel like you should just tell him. he already told you his feelings."

"see, but that's the thing." she shoots you a skeptical look and you sigh back at her. "what if he's lying? or if he didn't actually mean it?"

"why would he lie about something so significant as that?"

"i don't know, maybe he thought i was someone else-"

"from what you've very thoroughly informed me, he expressed his feelings for you, and only you," she reminds you, tilting her glass toward you for emphasis. her gaze flicks up behind you and she raises her eyebrows briefly, like whoever was approaching was another tool for her entertainment. "tell him. it's now or never."

"what the hell do you-"

"you're out of your mind if you think it's okay to get them drunk before a mission." his voice immediately sobers you, white-hot shame coursing through your veins as you sit up and try to make yourself look presentable. thankfully, he's glaring daggers into nami, who merely shrugs and offers something about being here for a good time, not a long time. "c'mon, i'm taking you back to the ship," he mutters, lifting you from your seat and letting you grab his unfairly strong bicep for stability.

"why'd you come get me?" your steps wobble slightly on the cobblestone, but zoro's determination to keep you upright is unwavering. "i could have gone home with nami."

"i got worried about where you were. thought something happened."

"nothing happened except alcohol and feelings," you drawl absentmindedly, the airy feeling in your mind becoming fuzzier the longer you're with him.

"ah, two of my favorite things."

"liar, you only talk about your feelings when you're drunk." blinking slowly to recenter yourself, you cut him off before he can counter your accusation. "like, the other night. when you told me you loved me." the words slip out unplanned and his body becomes deathly still next to you, his arm so tense you could mine it with a pickaxe.

"i said...what?"

"that you loved me and that it was a secret," you say plainly, glancing at him to find his face a nearly imperceptible shade of pink. "what's with the blush?"

"it's nothing," he says quietly. sober you would have left the conversation at that, respecting his need for privacy and security about his private feelings.

drunk you, however, has no such manners.

"look at you, all red and shit." his ears become an even deeper shade of pink and you can't help laughing at his poor attempt to hide his embarrassment. "you wouldn't be so flushed if it was actually nothing, so what is it?"

"it's nothing," he restates. "it doesn't matter."

"it matters to me. you matter to me." his face feels like it's been set on fire and every place your body is making contact with his feels like an electric current. did you have any idea what your words were doing to him, he wondered. sure, what you said made his brain go foggy like the island coastline in the morning, but what you made him feel was so much worse. you made him feel so lovesick, it pained him.

"the sentiment is reciprocated," he murmurs low enough that you can barely hear him. even while you're dancing around in the streetlights, you've never looked so beautiful to him.

"can i tell you a secret?" he swallows thickly, unsure of how to continue navigating this situation. he settles for nodding, every movement restrained to keep from kissing you until the only oxygen in his lungs has gone through yours first. "you can't tell anyone, though."

"i'm a great secret keeper."

"no, you're not," you reply instantly and his mouth gapes indignantly. "you told me your biggest secret and you don't even remember it."

"fine. i won't tell anyone what you tell me, then. i don't know about anyone else," he promises. after what seemed like an eternity, he finally helps you into your hammock, taking great care to make sure you don't fall out. "if i do tell someone, you can kick me in the balls."

"enticing offer," you laugh and his mouth quirks in a half-smile that you only saw once in a blue moon.

"so, the secret?"

"oh, right," you whisper sleepily. "the secret is that i love you too. i love you so much that i want to throw up."

"i think that might be the alcohol, doll," he murmurs, his fingers gently brushing your cheek. "sober you and sober me need to have a long talk in the morning."

"we said that last time but didn't do shit about it."

"well, i think it's time i did something about it." your eyebrows furrow, completely forgetting anything you'd just talked about. it's okay, he figures. he'll show you how much you mean to him when you're both ready.

"did something about what?"

"how much i love you, too."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[osmanthus-wine-addiction]

10 Swallowing

Zhongli x Reader / NSFW / Reader gives Zhongli an emergency blowjob / Filthy smut because Zhongli makes me hungry

Delicious was a word you never thought you'd use to describe your lover.

Sure, Zhongli was a walking delicacy in all his exquisiteness, but the moment you sink between his thighs, he's absolutely decadent. The trembling of his body gives away just how much he looks forward to being your treat.

"You've been holding it in all night and you didn't think to tell me?" You gave him a playful scowl while unclasping his belt.

"Dearest, you seemed to be enjoying yourself and I did not want to interrupt your celebration." He reached down to stroke your hair, adoration overflowing in his eyes.

Tonight was a special night for you. The Akademiya had thrown a gala in celebration of a significant research breakthrough. You had been working hard on this project for nearly five years and deserved all the limelight tonight. He had been admiring you in that dazzling dress for hours while you fluttered among the guests, wondering how a simple dress could accentuate your beauty in such a way. It wasn't until he held you flush against him, swaying in the music, that his admiration silently crossed into arousal.

Being the perceptive partner that you were, you naturally gave Zhongli a knowing smirk and and dragged him off to find some privacy. A room with a lock on the door and a comfortable chair would do. You promptly motioned for him to take a seat and got down on your knees, freeing him from his predicament without a moment's delay. If you didn't initiate, poor man was going to no doubt endure it for the rest of the evening and you couldn't have that. Also, who ever said you couldn't sneak in a quick snack in between all the socializing?

Your lover's breath hitches as your tongue glides over his sensitive skin. He lets out a shuttered moan as you deliberately trace a wet path along his bulging vein. You knew this man like the back of your own hands, perhaps even more thoroughly than some of the subjects you had researched. Your teasing was calculated and methodical, as if you were tempering fine chocolate.

Zhongli's fingers are buried in your tousled hair as you close your plush lips around his tip. You gave it a gentle suck, eliciting a soft groan from him.

"Look at you." You remarked as you wrapped your fingers gingerly around his shaft, smiling as it twitched and swelled in your hands. "I brought you here, didn't I? So you're my responsibility. I can't just let you walk around like this."

Zhongli's face was tinged with a soft flush and his breathing had gotten shallow. A thin sheen of perspiration lined his temple and neck as you pleasured him with both your hands and your lips. Your mouth parted wider, trying to accommodate more of his cock. He shuttered as he felt your teeth accidentally scrape against his length.

"You must get back soon, dear… They will be wondering where you have disappeared to." Zhongli reminds you as you help yourself to him.

You responded by taking in even more of him, effectively shoving those considerate but unnecessary thoughts right out of his mind. He let out a choked moan, eyelids falling shut as he threw his head back. His cock was now lodged deep inside your throat. You held your breath, shaking as you fought the urge to gag, spitting him out only to swallow him right back once you've pulled him out enough to draw in a breath. Even after doing this several times, it's still a challenge, but you've always appreciated a good challenge, especially when it brings your lover so much pleasure.

The way Zhongli's deep and velvety voice takes on a slightly higher pitch as he moans sends a satisfying ripple through your body. He muffles himself with the back of his gloved fist in fear that someone would hear and come investigating the commotion.

Time fled his mind. He's already lost track of how long he's been sitting here with you between his knees. Increasing urgency and desperation laces his groans. The things you do to him reduce him into a trembling heap of desire, filling your ears with an assortment of delectable sounds.

You could never regret going missing for a delicious treat like this. If anything, Zhongli was the cream on your cake tonight. He makes you feel adored like nobody else could. If it weren’t for his constant encouragement, you would have fallen into the habit of second-guessing yourself during the grueling research.

"Oh my darling… Yes… Just like that…" He assures you while combing a hand through your hair.

Your hands unfurled, fondling him at the base as you engorge yourself on his throbbing cock. It was dizzying. The friction and lack of air had you drooling all along his hardened length. Your narrow throat convulsed around him as you took him in deep, plunging him into a state of ecstasy. You could taste him in your mouth, holding on by a mere shred. His stomach tensed as he strained to keep himself from bucking up against your face. All it took was a deliberately harsh suck over his sensitive tip to have him exploding all over the inside of your mouth.

Zhongli let put a choked moan as you milked him, demanding him to give you every last drop. Thick cum spurted out from the corner of your lips, running down your jaw in streaks. You finally let go of his glazed cock, swallowing the salty treat he had just deposited into your mouth. After coming down from the euphoria, Zhongli leaned down and ran his thumb along your lower jaw which was still decorated in his cream. You parted your lips and cleaned off his fingers with your tongue.

"Thank you, dear. I must repay the deed when we return to the inn tonight." Your ever-appreciative lover whispered as you licked him clean.

"I can't wait to get dined on then." You rose up to your feet, bending down to brush your lips against his ear.

"I will be sure to delight you just as you've delighted me." He replied. "Now we should get back, shouldn't we? You've gone missing for long enough."

Zhongli still looks way too ravishable while pulling off a decieving facade with that adorable blush on his face. You contemplated if you could perhaps go missing for a bit longer, but at last your rationality won you over.

"Try not to stare unless you're planning for us to leave early." You smirked at him as you turned for the door.

"I cannot promise that, but I will manage the wait. This is your moment, dearest. It would pain me to cut it short."

This man was too sweet sometimes. God knows how many cavities you have just from his sweet talking alone. Who would've known a retired Archon could also make a well-seasoned lover? You certainly didn't regret inviting him on that first dinner date. He just never saw himself eventually becoming your main course.

[mitfloya]

𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒: 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐘 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄

pairings. Yandere Rafayel x gn!reader

wc. 2k

synopsis. You find yourself lost searching for answers that slip through your grasp. There is a mysterious force that lures you back to the vast depths of the sea, a pull that you can't quite comprehend, a strange connection. It haunts your thoughts, you wanted to find out why does your soul keeps guiding you to ocean.

Only to find the truth that you wish to never uncover.

warnings. The following content contains elements of obsessive behavior, yandere thoughts, stalking, possessive behavior, and may include poorly written narratives. Reader is referred to as 'you'. Proceed with caution, as this writing may be unsettling or uncomfortable for some individuals.

a/n. Hiii, I'm back from the dead, I hope it's good (be gentle with me this is my first fic I've created) or evoke some kind of emotions, whatever it may be. I may have gone a little overboard with everything. This will be a small series, maybe there will be 3 parts or up to 5 parts, depends on my mood. Also, this is my thank you gift for the celebration of hitting another milestone on my c.ai acc ♡

The waves, like gentle giants, rolled towards the shore, their white foamy crests crashing against the rocks with a resounding roar. The sound echoed in your ears. With each surge, the water created intricate patterns, as if painting an ever-changing masterpiece upon the canvas of the beach.

Some crashed against the rocks with a powerful force, while others gently caressed the sand, their touch as gentle as a lover's whisper. 

Standing there, your feet were gently lapped by the waves near the shore, your eyes fixated on the vast expanse of the sea, you felt an inexplicable pull, as if there was a profound bond between you and the ocean.

Yet, you couldn't quite comprehend why.

Lost in contemplation, you imagined how the cool waters of the sea would embrace you, enveloping you in their refreshing embrace. It was in these moments that you found solace and tranquility in the presence of nature.

The ebb and flow of the waves became a soothing rhythm that seemed to wash away any worries or troubles that burdened your mind.

Yet, amidst the serenity, there was a sense of familiarity, as if there were fragments of a forgotten memory lurking within your subconscious. Every time you found yourself by the sea or on a sandy beach, a whisper of a memory danced at the edge of your thoughts, just out of reach.

Lost in your thoughts, distant calls of your name went unheard as you drifted into a daze, completely captivated by the sea, you didn't noticed the water has gone up to your knees level. It was only when a familiar hand gripped your wrist, pulling you back from the water, that you snapped out of your daze.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?" His voice rang out, a mix of concern and annoyance. "You were about to walk straight into the deep sea! Do you have any idea how dangerous that could have been?" he exclaimed, gently pulling you back to the safety of the shore.

Startled, your gaze locked with his eyes, a blend of deep purple with delicate speckles of pink. In that moment, you found yourself drowning in the vastness of his gaze, unable to tear your eyes away.

His eyes held a mix of emotions, like a tumultuous sea that you couldn't quite decipher. You couldn't help but wonder if your encounter was more than just a coincidence, if there was a greater significance to the intertwining of your paths. The depths of his gaze seemed to hold the answers, yet they also posed more questions, leaving you both intrigued and captivated.

There was something undeniable about the connection you shared, a magnetic pull that transcended mere concern. In that moment, you realized that his eyes held more than just worry for your safety—they held a glimpse of a deeper connection, an unspoken understanding that seemed to bind you together.

The depth of his concern in the eyes are as clear as day, it momentarily puts you lost at words.

The situation slowly sank in, you realized that you had been so absorbed in your thoughts that you had unconsciously ventured into dangerous waters. The level of danger had escalated beyond what you initially thought, as the water had gradually risen without your awareness.

You blinked, your voice betraying a tinge of guilt as you stammered out. "I… I didn't even realize," you admitted, your words laden with a sense of remorse,. "The ocean… it just pulls me in. I can't explain it." Your eyes darted around, avoiding contact with Rafayel.

He sees the way you looked at the sea, sensing that you were searching for something, perhaps a connection or understanding.

In that fleeting moment, a glimmer of hope momentarily danced across Rafayel's face, as if he believed you had finally recollected something significant to him.

…But as he searched your eyes, that tiny glimmer faded, replaced by a mix of disappointment and frustration.

A deep sigh escaped Rafayel's lips, his eyes rolling with visible exasperation. "Oh, please," he scoffed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "As if the ocean has some deep, personal connection to you," he muttered dismissively.

The atmosphere grew heavy with an unspoken tension, as Rafayel's words hung in the air. It was clear that he felt let down, hoping for a shared understanding that seemed to elude him once again.

Rafayel's frustration grew evident as he let out an exasperated huff, pushing away his bangs with an irritated sweep of his hand. "Look, we've got enough problems trying to win this damn classroom competition. We don't need you drowning yourself in the process." His head shook slightly, a clear expression of annoyance etched upon his face.

You felt a pang of regret wash over you, seeing the frustration etched on Rafayel's face. "Thanks for being worried, I guess," you mumbled, your tone tinged with a touch of bitterness. He could've said it nicely at the very least, you thought.

Feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over you for nearly getting yourself drowned, you quickly shifted your gaze to the expanse of the ocean stretched out before you.

The colors of the sea danced before your eyes, shifting seamlessly from the vibrant hues of turquoise to the deeper shades of indigo, as if an artist's brush had painted a masterpiece on the water's surface.

You couldn't help but wonder if there was a hidden world beneath the surface. Little did you know, you had been conversing with one of those hidden beings all along.

You noticed Rafayel's hands waving in front of your face, interrupting your oceanic reverie.

"I've heard the locals said that there is a mythical creature who roamed around this water, can you guess what it is?" His voice took on an eerie cadence. His head tilted slightly, as if he was assessing your reaction.

"Legend has it that those who make a pact with this sea creature are granted a special favor," he weave the tale as his gaze were penetrating your skin. "However," he paused, his words dripping with anticipation. "If one were to forget or break their oath, the consequences would be nothing short of catastrophic."

Drawing near, he leaned in, his voice a mere whisper in your ear. "They would face a fate far more harrowing than their most dreadful nightmares could ever conjure." His breath made your skin crawl, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

The tale he spoke of leave you with an eerie sense that there was more to this tale than met the eye. It was as if the threads of the story resonated with a deeper part of your being, stirring emotions and images that had long been dormant.

Yet, you shook off the discomfort, determined not to let Rafayel's words unravel your sense of reality, even as they lingered in your mind, leaving behind a lingering sense of unease.

With a light-hearted push, you nudge him away with your elbow, mustering a witty retort to maintain the casual banter. "Nice try, but I'm not one to fall victim to the legends of mermaids."

Unfazed, Rafayel continues to weave his tale, his voice dripping with a seductive charm. "How so? Don't their enchanting melodies and mysterious allure at least pique your curiosity?"

The weight of his words settled upon you, causing a shiver to ripple through your body. Yet, you maintain your composure, "Well, Rafayel," you taunt, "if mermaids are truly as captivating as you claim, perhaps I should take my chances. Who knows? Maybe I'll be the one to befriend a mermaid."

Oh, you already did and it was more than that.

Your soul remembers him, resonating with a familiarity that defies logic, while your conscious mind grapples with the mystery of who he truly is and where your paths have crossed before.

It's like your souls hold a hidden story, a shared history that teases the edges of your awareness, just beyond your grasp. The unspoken bond that lingers between you cannot be denied, as if your paths are intricately woven together, waiting to be unraveled.

In his presence, you find yourself both anchored and adrift, caught between the intangible and the tangible. The ties that bind you are not of this physical realm, but of a deeper dimension where emotions and memories intertwine like the ebb and flow of the tide.

There is a profound bond between you that goes beyond mere attraction, as if you have shared lifetimes together before.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the water, you and Rafayel became entranced by the moment, surrendering to the breathtaking beauty of the sea.

The scenery sparked a creative fire within you, the gentle dance of the waves mirrored the rhythm of your thoughts, as if the ocean had bestowed upon you the ideal theme for the upcoming classroom decoration competition. It was as if the universe had handed you a vibrant palette, ready to bring your ideas to life.

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as an idea began to take shape in your mind. "Hey, what if we choose the ocean as our theme? We could create an underwater wonderland, wouldn't that be cool?" you suggested, your voice filled with enthusiasm.

Rafayel eyes widened with surprise, he took a moment to consider the suggestion. "That's actually not bad," he shrugged, his tone casual yet intrigued. "We could use blue and turquoise hues to mimic the ocean's colors, and hang paper jellyfish and other sea creatures from the ceiling. It'll be like stepping into an enchanting underwater realm."

The two of you continued to brainstorm all the way home, ideas flowing like a current, as you imagined transforming your classroom into a captivating oceanic paradise.

As the sounds of crashing waves slowly faded into the distance, replaced by the comforting rhythm of your footsteps, a familiar banter and laughter filled the air. The easy camaraderie between you and Rafayel created a warm and comfortable atmosphere, where the worries of the day seemed to melt away.

Minutes passed by, as if time had lost its grip on the endless conversations and moments of solace shared with Rafayel. He was like a soothing balm for your weary soul, a safe haven where your restless mind could find peace. His presence was like a sanctuary, where the weight of your worries seemed to dissipate into thin air.

Regrettably, the front gate of your house loomed before you, signaling the end of this cherished connection. With a warm smile, you waved goodbye to Rafayel, a bittersweet farewell that left an ache in your heart. "We'll talk more later, see you at school tomorrow!" you called out, hoping to preserve the thread of conversation that had woven its way into your shared journey.

He reciprocated with a smile and a wave, his eyes following you until you disappeared behind the closed door. As the facade he wore crumbled, a torrent of emotions flooded Rafayel's mind the moment you were safely inside. Frustration tightened its grip, as he struggled to understand how something so vital between the two of you could slip from your memory.

However, a twisted sense of satisfaction settled within him, as he relished in the knowledge of your home, a piece of your personal life that he now possessed, fueling a dangerous determination to claim you as his own.

This was never your home, and it would never be, for he had vowed to create a sanctuary where only he could offer you peace and happiness you deserved.

He knew that he had to do more, to make you realize the depth of his feelings. With unwavering resolve, Rafayel promised himself that he would build a world for you, free from any disturbances or distractions.

No one else would have access to this sacred space; it would be an intimate domain that existed solely for him and you.

"Wait for me, my love. I'll show you how much I adore you."

© mitfloya 2024. Kindly refrain from altering, translating, or reposting my works on any platform without obtaining my consent.

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Forsaking All Others 1

Part 11 of my Accidentally on Purpose Series!

Warnings: Anxiety, angst, mild smut, robbery, TW: violence, kidnapping, TW: possible claustrophobia trigger at the very end, guns and gun violence, cliffhanger.

A/N: Splitting this into multiple parts cause I write too damn much. Also, my house is making a lot of random ass sounds right now as if someone's in the house with me but I know I'm alone.

The city whirls around you, spinning in and out of your vision as you rush through the streets, trying to make your way to Anvil.

You can barely focus on the blur of people and cars moving past, mind still caught up in the conversation you just had with your mother.

It had been painfully heated, your throat squeezing at the reminder of what was said, at the truth in her words and the storm they’d started in your head.

She was right. That was the worst part.

You stop suddenly as a car zooms past, almost clipping you. The streets of New York had to be one of the worst places in the world to be distracted.

Still, you can’t get your head out of that phone call, you’d rang her the minute you’d wrapped your head around the papers in your hands.

She’d made accurate assumptions based on the things Dominic had said to her previously. The rings specifically, had helped her put all of it together. 

She’d even called the seller, investigative as ever and inquired as to when they were commissioned. 

She’d figured out that you’d been forced into the marriage, with no way out.

Like an idiot, you’d denied everything, but the facts were too significant to be outweighed by your little excuses.

You loved him. You said as much to her.

Her rebuttal had speared into your heart.

“Do you really? Or is that a comfort you’ve found in the cage he’s built?”

It had made your voice shake.

You didn’t know the answer.

Only a fool would deny that this marriage was a trap, only someone ridiculously stupid, would look at your relationship and call it real love. It could barely be called true, love was not something that could be made under these conditions, it was something free, right? Freely given, free to walk away, light as a feather, this couldn't be love.

Your heart grows heavy with your thoughts.

Did that make you a victim? Billy, your captor, and you, his captive? There was not supposed to be words like ‘love’ in between that.

You barely register making it to Anvil, chest aching with your thoughts, that what you were doing was wrong, that loving him was wrong. The elevator doors close, and you feel the air around you thicken until breathing is difficult.

Where are you even going? You wonder as the elevator doors open, were you going right back into the arms of the man that had trapped you?

He's not in his office, and it somehow makes everything worse, you lean over his desk, one hand pressed to your chest because you don't understand what you're feeling, the world swarms around you like static in your head and you can't focus on anything except the frantic beating of your heart and the thickness of the air in the room-

You jump when the doors swing open.

“Hey sweetheart.” He says softly, eating up the space between you till you're pulled into his arms.

You stiffen for a moment, taking a small breath, breathing in his cologne, feeling something unknot in your chest.

Your shoulders drop, hands coming around to return his hug, his arms squeezing the dear life out of you in response and you accept it eagerly.

“Hi Billy.” You whisper, feeling your body turn to mush in his arms.

“Missed you so much little wife.” He kisses your ear.

“It's only been a couple of hours.” You laugh.

He chuckles with you, fingers under your chin to tilt your head up, waiting a second for your smile of consent before he dips his head to kiss you.

You moan into his mouth, not expecting his kiss to feel so good, he draws back too soon for your liking and you whine, bringing your hands to his cheek to pull him back down again.

Where your heart was once so heavy, it flutters, fills with neverending emotion for him, and you find difficulty in questioning how wrong it is.

He's just as taken as you are, pressing his mouth harshly to yours, bringing a hand up to grip your jaw, encouraging your lips to part so that he can press his tongue into your mouth.

“I fucking love you.” He voices between kisses, hands in your hair, roaming over your body as if he's never had you before.

You giggle into the kiss, voicing your love for him too, hearing him groan in delight as you say it.

A few moments later, the phone rings, and he groans in displeasure, which makes you laugh as he reaches for the device.

“Yes?” He answers, listening to someone on the other end, his hand reaching to interlock with yours.

You hear him let out a frustrated breath, and even that is hot, his eyes fixed on you as he speaks into the phone.

You’ve been kissed absolutely stupid, leaning against his office desk trying to remember anything about yourself while he's busy.

“I'm coming down, then, prep some gear for me.” He says before hanging up.

“Another training sim?” You ask, a little sad he'll have to leave.

“Yeah, I'm sorry baby.” He says softly, making you smile, you reach out, fingers dancing over his tie.

He catches your fingers, bringing them up to his mouth to kiss, rubbing his beard lovingly over your skin.

“Wanna come with me? You can watch?”

“Yeah.” You say eagerly, nodding, following along when he tugs at you, fingers intertwined.

You feel like a silly girl as you follow him, hanging onto his every word, begging for him to look back and smile at you. 

When he does, you feel like there's a hook in your heart and his hand on the line, tugging you closer and closer.

And in those moments, you're not thinking about anything other than him.

.

There was not a damn thought going through your head right now, your eyes glued to the screens in front of you, eyes scanning for him, drinking in each glimpse you can get.

The way he looks in full tactical gear makes you wet beyond belief.

Worse than that, it reminds you of your recent castle date, and the sound of his knife dragging against the wooden panels on the wall makes your stomach tighten eagerly.

You clear your throat, trying to appear calm as you sit in the back corner of the room, monitors cover the wall in front of you, capturing various angles of the training room below. There are other people here, some representatives from one of the intelligence bodies, tactical specialists from Anvil, and a few other people that you hadn't been introduced to because they'd come in late.

One of the agents you'd met earlier finds her way to the seat next to you, and you can feel the air thicken with unsaid words. You glance over at her, smiling politely in hopes that she speaks, so that she can leave you to fantasize about your husband in peace.

“What do you think about the simulation so far?” Agent Madani asks.

Great, now you had to formulate thoughts? You almost want to tell her that you're wondering how scratchy all that gear Billy's wearing would be on your thighs.

“It's… really intense, hard to wrap my head around the idea that this is normal for some people.” And now that you thought about it, you realise that this is what Billy probably looked like in action, in those tours he'd done… this was the soldier you didn't see often.

She gives you an understanding smile.

“It can be hard for civilians, but it's the shared experiences that helps us cope.”

And exactly what the fuck did that mean?

You glance at her from the corner of your eye, finally looking at her, curly hair and sultry eyes, an intelligent smile that could make you feel like you were dumber than her.

“I suppose, it's good to have friends that get what you've been through.”

She nods, eyes still on the monitors ahead, but you can read the subtext of what she really wants to say based on how easily she agrees with you, that it was even better to have a partner that could share your burdens.

That, tells you everything you need to know about her. When Billy had introduced you two earlier, it had been very casual, nothing that raised any alarms. But now you were beginning to realise that Agent Madani had an expert poker face.

“How long have you known Billy?” You ask softly, eyes travelling back to the screen, where you watch him give silent orders with gunfire going off around him. You knew it was him, even though the footage was smokey and he was wearing a helmet, you knew his frame and mannerisms, even if you've never seen him in battle like this.

“A few years, we met at a training just like this one, when his company was still very new. His strategy knowledge really helped us work better.”

“Bet you're really glad you met him.”

You catch her turning her head to look at you in your peripherals.

“I suppose so.” She murmurs with a contemplative nod, “What about you? How long have you known him?”

“Maybe two years? We met a while ago at a company party.” You explain, trying to keep things as vague as possible.

“And, if you don’t mind me asking, how long have you two been married?”

You knew where this was going to go, no doubt the comment that Billy wasn’t the type to get married. You’d heard it so many times. It really made you wonder what type of person he seemed to be outside of your relationship.

“Not long at all, maybe a couple of months.”

She seems to nod, either deep in contemplation of your words, or focused on the simulation, you couldn’t really tell.

“Not sure if he ever mentioned it, but a long time ago we used to date.”

Oh?

“Sorry, no he didn’t.”

She shakes her head with a small smile.

“Not surprised, it was a long time ago and it didn’t last long. Neither of us were interested in commitment, so it kind of surprised me today when he introduced you.”

Bingo. You can’t believe she was distracting you with something as useless as this when your husband was literally being the hottest person on the planet right now. Case in point, when you focus on the screens, you see him, on one knee, peeking out from behind a wall, firing shots lower than the other team expects.

You want him to eat you out in that exact position.

“I just mean that he never seemed willing to do the whole marriage thing.” Agent Madani says, interrupting your thoughts.

“I know what you meant. I just can’t add any real input. I don’t know him that way.” You say, very tired of this conversation.

“You must have really made an impression.” She mutters, and for the first time, you hear a touch of jealousy in her voice.

Agent Madani was effortlessly beautiful, seemed strong willed and had the confidence to suit. If you’d met her at any other point in your life you might have shirked under her eyes. It was kind of amazing though, that he’d been with her, and could clearly get her easily if he wanted, and yet somehow, he’d gone through the trouble of catching you.

You resist a smile. You should not be feeling this pleased that he’d gone through such lengths to trap you. 

But he did. He manipulated his way into knowing you, learned everything about you against your will, used it to get closer to you, took advantage of a weak moment to permanently seal himself into your life, and then he’d unlocked something in you, a darkness that you worried could match his own. 

The reminder of it made you burn that much hotter for him.

You turn your head slowly to Agent Madani, smiling as she meets your eyes. She could like him how much she wanted, he’d never spare her a glance. You were sure of that.

“Maybe I did. Excuse me, Agent, I’ll be right back.”

The basement is large, maybe the size of a warehouse, in the middle is the training floor, easily changeable for various maze formations, that can also be converted into two levels when necessary. There’s an observation deck wrapped around the entire basement, so that you can look down through one way glass and have a better idea of the formations and clusters that each group takes on during the simulation. The Watch Center that you just walked out of, rests in one of the corners of the deck, farthest away from all the fighting.

It’s easy to spot him from where you are, moving through the maze, pausing to peek around corners, his team following dutifully behind him. 

You’re not really sure why he’s there, if it’s because he’s the best at what he does, or maybe he just felt like joining them today. You don’t really follow his day to day business, and you make a mental note to pay more attention.

Phones weren’t allowed on the training floor, but you’d noticed earlier that Billy had his smartwatch on, and you were about to use that to your advantage. 

You keep it short and sweet, and not as lewd as you want to be, just in case anyone reads it.

.

His watch buzzes at some point between scoping out his surroundings, and directing his team. His phone is set to do not disturb, with a few contacts allowed to actually interrupt him: you, your security, Frank and his family.

Hurry up. I miss you.

The little brat.

His stomach flutters, And he smiles, turning his body to face the general area of the Watch Center for a moment so that you know he's read your message.

He definitely should not try to speed up the sim, because running into a fight with no backup helps no one in a simulation like this. But God does he want to. His girl wants him, and he wants his perfect girl.

He clears his throat, gives a shake of his head. If he plays this well, he'll be out of here soon.

His watch buzzes a second time when he has his LVOA-C raised, Using the scope to scan for passing shadows before giving the all clear to move.

He directs his team forward, letting them take the lead so that he has a chance to glance at his watch again.

Should I start without you?

You were playing a dangerous game.

He thinks about you touching your pretty body without him there, feels his blood boil. There are better places to get hard, and during tactical training, surrounded by veterans is not one of them. He can’t even adjust himself, because he knows there are too many eyes on him, not just here, but in the Watch Center as well. 

He’d have to manage his discomfort here, but after, he feels amusement grow within him, after this, you were in so much-

Someone on his team gets hit in the chest and goes down. Of course, the bullets are non-lethal, but that doesn’t mean it’s painless. 

The ambush comes next, pinning them in position, and he has no doubt in his mind that if he hadn’t been distracted, he would have seen it coming.

This team is good, but his is better. And he even decides to pull some of his tricks to give the other group an advantage. 

After a few minutes, the simulation is over, and a buzzer sounds to signal the same.

His team helps the others, checking on any unfortunate wounds that might have happened, directing them to the exits, gathering gear and guns that have been discarded in the melee. 

Billy groans, tugging his helmet off, unstrapping his vest that had been constricting his breathing for the last two hours.

He can feel sweat running down the back of his neck, handing his gear off to one of his guys so that he can run a final sweep of the terrain. Sometimes, the map can have people so disoriented by the activity that they don’t hear the buzzer go off, thinking that the sim is still going. 

He takes his time, starting from the back and making his way forward, hearing the extractors start up, pulling the smoke up and into the air filtration system. He rounds a corner and stops short, when he finds you standing in front of him.

He takes a second or two to read the look in your eyes, the way your lashes flutter so seductively when you blink. He can feel that primal urge roaring in his head, the need to take you in this very second, right here, where everyone can see or listen in.

“You shouldn’t be in here,” He warns calmly, approaching, observing, “I haven’t cleared the space yet. You could get hurt.”

You shrug, a toss of your hair and he’s all but ready to grip the back of your neck harshly.

“I’m not worried, I know you’ll keep me safe.”

Of course he would, but the thought of someone hurting you, even a little, could probably make him blind with rage.

“I would, sweetheart, but why take the unnecessary risk?”

You pout, and Billy swears internally, he was going to buy you the best flowers money could get later. Maybe he should take you out on a date somewhere nice.

“I missed you.” You answer, repeating the words he’d said to you earlier, and if he wasn’t in the line of sight of the camera to his left, he would have pressed you against the wall behind you and kissed you stupid.

Instead, he smiles in amusement, extending a hand for you to take.

“Come on, stay behind me while I finish my sweep.”

.

You comply with his request, keeping a step behind him as he goes through the rest of the maze, eyebrows raising when he finds a discarded handgun, probably misplaced during the fight.

“Isn’t it really bad if someone loses their gun in a fight?” You ask softly, wondering what the consequences would be.

“Yeah, but it’s a learning experience, sometimes a rookie leaves it behind if they’re switching guns in the heat of battle. It’s why the sims are important, so they learn to think under pressure.”

You make a hum of agreement, deep in thought, not really paying attention to where you’re going, listening to him and watching scorch marks from bullets and the occasional smoke grenade type thing.

It really looks like a battle zone, you’re not sure why it surprises you so much, maybe because you’ve never seen one up close, amazed at the way things go down in real life, the way it looks absolutely nothing like the movies.

When he tugs on your arm suddenly, you gasp in surprise, stumbling forward, feeling his body crush against your back, pressing you into one of the walls of the maze. When you make a squeak of surprise, you feel his hand reach to cover your mouth.

His slow exhale says everything.

“You liked watching me work?” He teases, his voice a low vibration in your ear. You struggle for the fun of it, just to feel him press you against the wall harder.

“Answer me, wife. Did you have fun distracting me with your messages?”

You whine behind his palm, and you almost yelp in surprise when he tugs your skirt up roughly so that he can slap your thigh. Tilting your head back, you catch the smell of gunpowder residue on his hands, making you ache for him.

You wiggle your hips, hoping to urge him into a reaction that would be more pleasurable for you. You hear him grunt, before his hand reaches under your skirt to grip your hips.

Another sound of bliss leaves your throat, and you realise that the way he grips your hip is arousing all on its own.

“You have no idea what you do to me, wife. The ways I want to fucking ruin you, and you tease me? Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep myself together around you?”

God, you arch your back, silently begging him to undo his pants and take you right here.

“I bet you're already so wet for me. If my hands weren't covered in gunpowder residue, I would make you come on my fingers right here.” 

Please, you want to say.

You hear him laugh.

“Look at you squirm, baby, you want your husband bad, hmm?”

You nod, glancing back at him, trying to see him in your peripherals.

“Why don't you show me how wet you are.” He hums, pulling you away from the wall to give you some space.

“Go on, baby, reach down, under that skirt, and touch yourself for me.”

You do as he says, not really knowing if you were being seen by cameras or not, but knowing Billy, he'd probably picked an area with a blind spot.

You reach under your skirt, fingers sliding shakily under your panties, and you make a sharp breath when you realise exactly how aroused you really are.

“That much?” He asks, reading into your reaction, a smug smile in his voice.

“You get so wet for me, don't you? Always so ready for your husband, isn't that right?”

“Mhmm.” You agree behind his palm.

“You have no fucking idea what that does to me. It's hardly fair.” He breathes, “Go on, rub that little clit for me.”

You do as he says, sighing into his palm as you gently slide your middle finger teasingly over your bud.

“Is this what you meant when you wanted to start without me? Did you really think you could?”

You were honestly beginning to think that you'd been all bark and no bite this entire time.

He tugs your skirt up higher, the coarse feel of his pants against your bare ass makes you press your fingers harder on your clit.

“That's it, baby, work yourself for me.” He guides, right in your ear and you moan into his palm, breathing in more of the sharp gunpowder smell.

You whimper too, shuddering as you press down firmly on your clit for a few seconds, blinking, dazed at the way you feel.

“Good,” he breathes out, his face pressing in firmer, voice full of unsaid passion, “So good for me.”

Your eyes roll back in your head, eagerly playing with yourself, desperate to come, but standing on your feet pulls too much focus to let yourself go. 

He pulls his hand away from your mouth, spinning your body till you're facing him, your fingers still pressed to your clit as you gaze into his dark eyes.

“Let me taste you.” He says, and you shudder, tugging your hand out of your clothes, raising it to his lips, watching as he seals his mouth around your fingers.

He moans, eyes rolling shut for a few moments as you feel him pull your taste from your fingers.

When he's done, you withdraw your hand, waiting for his next words eagerly.

His breathing is laboured, eyes clinging to your face, you can almost see the way he tries to pull his thoughts together.

“When I'm done here, I'm going to take you up to our office, lift that skirt up and make sure you come hard on my tongue.”

He rubs the backs of his fingers over your cheek, watching you smile happily at his words.

“After, would you wanna get some dinner with me?”

“Like a date?” You ask, trying to hide your excitement.

He nods in affirmation.

“I'd love that.” You murmur, leaning in to kiss him, breathing in the wisps of gunsmoke and husband that reminds you he's distinctly yours.

.

He walks you to the elevator before going back to the Watch Center for a quick debriefing.

It's not easy to focus when he knows you're upstairs eager for him, he can almost feel the press of your thighs around his face and he has to struggle to keep himself together.

After, when everyone's mostly gone, he knows there's nothing good coming when Dinah finally approaches him.

“She's too good for you.” Dinah says while he's gathering his stuff. He pauses, feels the anxiety spear into his chest, keeping a poker face as he turns to look at her.

“Maybe, but does it really matter?”

Billy watches Dinah lean against the table, a relaxed appearance to make it seem like she was just trying to be honest, and not what she was actually doing- attempting to manipulate him by needling at his insecurities.

“When she finally sees who you really are, she's not going to stay. Who knows, she probably already has an exit plan prepared.” Dinah shrugs as if this is the most obvious thing.

“Jealousy doesn't look good on you, Agent Madani.” He responds, continuing to gather his things.

She shakes her head, letting out a small laugh, reminding him why he'd never really liked her. When she was upset, she lashed out, uncaring of what she said so long as she got the last word in.

“I'm just trying to be honest, I know you, I know the dark shit going on in your head, a girl like her will never understand.”

Dinah was so wrong and she didn't even know it. Billy didn't have to worry about that, you'd seen him, the real him from the very start, and the more of himself he showed to you, the less inclined you seemed to turn away.

“Thanks for the advice, Dinah, If you don't mind, I'm gonna go spoil my wife rotten now. Enjoy your evening.” Billy finally says, turning away and leaving Dinah behind.

Now, more than ever, he feels that darkness overwhelm him. Of course you were too good for him, and maybe there was a high chance you'd have an exit strategy already prepared. 

But Billy had worked hard to have you, and he would not let you leave so easily. 

.

You glance up when you hear the door open, sitting on your desk reading through one of your reports, you drop it when his freshly showered and dressed form steps into his office.

He's got one hand tucked behind his back, and you hear rustling as he approaches swiftly, his free hand slipping behind your neck to pull you into his mouth.

You moan against his lips as fireworks go off behind your eyes. He kisses you harsher than normal, tormenting your lips with his, making your head spin, dizzy delight dancing on your tongues.

You chase his mouth when he pulls away, your eyebrows lifted, peeking a look at him through half-lidded eyes.

You give him a dopey grin, that he mirrors, before pulling his other hand from behind his back to present you with a bouquet of red roses.

You let out a surprised giggle. Reaching out to take them, admiring The black wrapping paper and red ribbon.

“What's the occasion?” You inquire, bringing the roses up to your nose to breathe in their flowery scent.

“I need one? I'm so fucking obsessed with you that I can't think straight. Is that a good enough reason?”

You smile bashfully, pressing your face into the flowers to hide, grinning widely into them in hopes that he doesn’t see.

You peek at him, to find him looking at you with warm eyes.

He sucks in a deep breath, glancing off for a moment before speaking.

“I wanna take you out, show you off, I want people to look at you and be jealous that I'm the only one that can touch you. What do you think?”

The idea honestly terrified you. In what world could you ever be considered a prize?

Yet, your found yourself willing to try, for him.

“There’s a charity gala I was thinking we should attend,” You offer up shyly, face still buried in the roses, “It’s on Saturday.” You extend the folder you were just reading out to him, with all the details that you had about the charity.

He takes the folder from you, flipping it open and you watch his eyes scan the page.

“Are we doing security for this?” He asks, deep in thought.

“No, Phoenix is,” You answer, almost laughing as Billy turns his face up at the mention of a business competitor, “That’s on the other page.”

You watch him flip the page, waiting patiently for him to come to a decision. You hoped he would appreciate the cause, a scholarship fund for kids. You also hoped it didn’t strike too much of a chord.

“It’s good publicity too.” You offer up softly, and he nods in understanding.

“I like it,” He finally says, snapping the folder shut and looking up at you.

“I’m in.”

You smile, lifting your head, Billy drops the folder in lieu of bringing his hands up to either side of your head to kiss you more.

You hum into his mouth, moving the flowers from between you, placing it gently on the desk without looking. He takes the opportunity, sliding his hands under your ass, encouraging your legs to wrap around his hips before he lifts you.

He walks you over to his desk, which has less of a clutter on it, placing you down gently before swiping a rough hand over everything, sending his items scattering to the floor.

It makes you laugh, watching the disaster he creates in an attempt to have you. He catches your laugh, laughs too, shrugs his jacket off and drops it to the floor.

“What's funny?” He asks lowly, stepping back between your legs, uncuffing and rolling up his sleeves right in front of you.

“Is needing you funny?” He taunts, pushing your skirt up until he can see the cut of your panties between your thighs.

You watch his eyes drop down, he groans as his eyes lock to the apex of your thighs, pushing his clothed erection against your cunt. You gasp at how remarkably hard he is.

He grips the back of your head, tugging you close until your lips just barely brush.

“Are you laughing now?” He taunts.

.

You'd decided on a sage green dress from an amateur designer. Meeting with Sam again had been a welcome surprise, and she'd compiled an even more extensive list of dresses based on what she'd seen you admire last time. 

The dress in question was covered in embroidered flowers, with an elbow length puff sleeve, and a low neckline that just looked very fun to wear. You hoped it was okay that you were picking the fun option, and not the classy, or even sexier pieces.

You ponder if you should get Billy's opinion, worrying that it might not work into his idea of showing you off.

You snap a photo of the dress, sending it to him with a little message.

Thoughts?

You see the typing bubbles show up after a few seconds, and then the little symbol goes away before popping up again. You frown, watching him struggle with finding something to say and you feel a little sadness that he might not like it and you'll have to pick another.

You'd look stunning in it.

The words aren't enough, and you find yourself craving the reassurance.

Sure? I can pick something else if it's too… flowery.

No way, I think you'd kill me in this dress.

You let out a surprised laugh.

Are you sure? There are other options.

You take a photo of another dress, a red one to send him as an example.

Save it for another time, the first dress is beautiful and looks like it could be fun to wear, and more suitable for a children's charity.

You make a good point.

Of course I do, I'm a genius.

Name one smart thing you've ever done.

Don't make me put you over my knee, brat. 

Touchy.

I'll show you just how touchy when I see you 😌

Keep it in your pants, Russo.

Trying my best, you're just so pretty.

You giggle, rolling your eyes.

.

He catches you unaware in the walk-in closet while you’re picking out the shoes you’d decided on for the dress.

“Oh my god.” He growls into your ear, arms wrapping around your midsection. Your hands rise to cover his, as you smile and turn your head to look back at him, mostly dressed save for your shoes.

“You look so fucking gorgeous, little wife. I can’t wait to show you off.”

You let out a small breath of air, smiling up at him happily. 

“You’re not so bad yourself, husband.” You say jokingly, finally glancing back and almost moaning when you catch his attire.

All black, no tie, the top two buttons of his shirt undone, contrasting beautifully against his pale skin.

Jesus H Christ.

“What?” He asks, looking down, and you blink, realising you’d spoken that thought aloud.

You make a pained sound.

“You’re… uh… hot.” You stutter out, tilting your head downwards in shame at your loss of control.

His chuckle of amusement warms your stomach.

“Am I?” He asks, a lone finger presses to your chin, encouraging you to tilt your head upwards.

You meet his eyes, deciding to be honest instead of deflecting.

“Yes. Any woman-” You gulp, “-would be-”

“-I don't want any woman. I just want you.”

You let out a shaky breath of air, eyebrows pinching for a moment in disbelief before a weak smile pulls onto your face.

This is his attempt at manipulating you, comes the intrusive thought, a voice that sounds very much like your mother.

Your smile drops, and you turn away before he can read the expression on your face. You reach for the shoes you'd been initially reaching for.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

You close your eyes, finding the willpower to keep your voice even.

“Mhmm,” you say eagerly, “We should leave soon or we're gonna be late.”

You glance back at him with a smile, and the lines on his forehead disappear.

He extends a hand.

“I'll put them on for you.” 

You smile, passing the simple velvet green heels over.

.

“Relax,” he murmurs, spreading a hand over your back when he feels your shaky breath, “Everything is going to be okay.”

You nod at him as the car comes to a stop.

The door opens, and the flashes of cameras temporarily stun you as he steps out, extending a hand to you, which you take, focusing on him in order to cope with the constant flashing.

The bubble in your ears pop, and suddenly you can hear everyone shouting around you.

He'd warned you it would be this way, and his descriptions didn't do the din justice.

You glance over at the crowd, unable to focus on any one thing with the lights and the sound being so intense.

You paint a soft smile onto your face, waving as his hand interlocks with the other, guiding you along.

The press is good, you remind yourself, not just for Anvil, but for the charity as well, and you feel your insecure self be buried under a more confident you.

Your smile widens, your shoulders relax, you try to imagine the crowd as one being for now, as they try to get you to look in specific directions.

You pause at one point, allowing photos to be taken of you. It's then that you and Billy finally meet each other's eyes.

He leans in, lips to your ear, the flashes coming faster.

“You're doing amazing.” He says reassuringly, drawing a genuine smile from you.

You look up at him, heart pounding at the way he looks at you, before turning back to smile at the crowd.

It's over after that, you make your way inside where your ears ring for a few minutes, unable to hear much as you're seated.

His hand remains locked with yours, never leaving your side as the events begin.

You’d never been to one of these events before, and it amazes you how much actual thought goes into the entire charity. Though, it’s quite clear that this specific occasion is designed to stroke rich people’s egos. 

You’re interested to see how the charity has benefitted children, though you know that the photos you see are definitely staged to paint the charity in the best light possible. You’d done a bit of digging into the organisation, and though there were some hiccups along the way, you hadn’t found any serious red flags of note.

You wished you could focus on the speech, hear anything going on and internalise the words, but your brain kind of stalls, anytime you look over and catch sight of Billy.

The black shirt and pants combo is very similar to what you saw him wearing that night- the night you got married. 

He’s so at ease beside you, his hair styled to perfection, your ring on his finger, a delicate silver chain hanging around his neck.

He looks like sin, like your dirty fantasies come to life. If he asked you to kneel, you suspect you very well might.

When people applaud, you refocus on your surroundings, softly clapping too, though you have no idea what’s going on.

There's an exhibit set up for your perusal, art pieces donated by organizations, even a smaller exhibit to view some of the art made by the students of the program. 

Mostly, it's a reason to mingle, for rich people to join with other rich people and pat each other on the back for the tax cut this is going to give them.

It kind of makes you hate them a little.

Still, you smile and shake hands with all the wealthy people, watch them give you some kind of knowing look that you’re supposed to interpret.

Why anyone thinks you’re a gold digger is beyond you. Weren’t people like that supposed to be the epitome of attractive? It made you roll your eyes internally.

What if he’d chosen you because no one would ever believe he’d done what he’d done to you? Why would he have his pick of the most beautiful women on the planet and still fight for you?

It’s your mother’s voice again, and you swallow, dropping your head meekly as a conversation with an older couple ends, and they move away from you.

You feel his hand on the small of your back, drawing you to look into his eyes.

“Are you okay? Want to take a break?” He asks softly.

You gaze at him for a long moment. What if he’d been manipulating you into liking him this entire time?

No, not liking… loving.

“Can I have some water?” You whisper softly.

He knows something is up, you can tell, but you watch him nod, excusing himself to head to the bar.

You let out a long sigh, turning away and walking deeper into the exhibit, in hopes that he takes a few moments longer to find you.

You needed to think, but this was the worst place for it. Did you really love him? Or were you just getting comfortable in his cage?

You were beginning to unravel.

You're at the very edge of the room, at the corner of the exhibit when the first few bangs go off.

You flinch at each sound, the noise cracking in your head, further amplified by the acoustics in the room.

Your ears ring, and it takes you a moment to register that there’s screaming.

The shrieks get cut off by a loud shout, an instruction for everyone to get down on the floor.

You gulp, eyes widening as you feel your heart begin pounding, you couldn't see what was going on, and maybe you didn't want to. The choice was taken from you by your own body that refused to move at all.

You couldn't hear anything after that initial shout, too far away and it would be dumb of you to get closer to see what was going on.

Where was Billy? Probably knelt on the ground somewhere waiting for the right opportunity to strike.

It's what kicks you into gear. He'd need backup, which means you'd need to go get help.

There's a door at the end of the exhibit, and you turn, walking that way quietly, trying your best to stop the soft clicking of your heel as you move.

You have the door in sight when someone calls out loudly behind you.

“Don't move.” They say.

You turn, stiffening once more when you find a man dressed head to toe in black pointing a gun at you.

Your heart squeezes in your chest.

He eats up the space between you until he grabs your arm forcefully, the gun presses into the middle of your back as he guides you back toward the middle of the room.

Your thinking unfortunately stalls, the rush of adrenaline makes you dumb, your brain in panic mode because this was a real life scenario with real people that would kill you, and not your husband, playing his games.

You can feel your shoulders trembling as the man pushes you into the room.

“I found a stray.” He announces to the other men standing about the room in full black gear with various types of guns in their hands.

You scan the room, searching for your husband, but unable to spot him.

One of the men approaches you, You can see nothing but his eyes, an average brown, through his mask.

He presses his handgun to your cheek, turning your head forcefully with it. You squeeze your eyes shut.

“What's your name?”

You stutter out your first name.

He presses the gun deeper into your cheek until you whisper your last name.

“What was that last part?” The man in front of you presses.

“Russo.” You say louder.

The man behind you, gripping your arm, releases it the moment he hears your last name, and you open your eyes just in time to see him reach forward and push the other man's gun of your cheek.

“Stop. We don't want to cause any trouble with her. Let her sit with everyone else.”

The man draws back angrily, twisting his gun from the first man's grip.

“The fuck are you on about?”

They both move a step away from you, and even though the first man drops his voice to a whisper, you still hear it.

“Don't you know who her husband is? She's more trouble than she's worth.”

“Isn't that the point of this? To cause trouble?”

“Trust me, man, that's more trouble than you want.”

You almost sigh with relief, the knowledge that Billy's name could keep you safe definitely eases some of your anxiety.

Except that the second man doesn't listen to reason, and he's right back in your face, his gun pressed to the center of your chest. The barrel isn't as cold as you'd expect, and you wonder if this was the gun that was fired earlier. 

How many shots did you hear? Five, you think. How many shots did he have left? You had no fucking idea.

“Give me all your stuff. Now.”

You blink, glancing at the first man, seeing him raise his hands in surrender. Realising he won't intervene further, you raise your shaky hands to tug your earrings off, and then your simple necklace, placing them into the man's open and waiting palm.

“And the ring.”

You stiffen.

“No.” You answer, as if you had any means of stopping him.

“Give it to me,” he says calmly, “or I hit you until you do.”

You were practically shaking.

“It's not valuable, it's worth nothing. Please.”

He pulls the gun from your chest, and you sigh in relief as he turns away.

You don't see his fist coming.

He hits you with the hand holding the gun, and you stumble, falling almost comically on your ass as your jaw aches. You feel tears spring to your eyes. 

In your disoriented state, he reaches down and rips the ring from your finger, despite your sluggish efforts to hold on.

Your face stings, but you don't think he hit you hard enough to cause any real damage, your tailbone also hurting from where you hit the ground.

You want to cry so badly, beg for your ring back, but the fear is overwhelming, almost nauseating. 

You sniffle, shuffling back, away from the men quietly arguing with each other, while there are two other men gathering valuables from the crowd.

It makes no sense to steal from these people, these aren’t items that can be pawned off without raising red flags, these items would probably have to leave the country to be sold, and even then, they’d still be traceable.

They finish grabbing what they came for very shortly, and when they group together, the man that hit you earlier turns to look at you. 

It’s easy to tell them apart, he was the second tallest in the four man group, and the man that had defended you, was a little shorter, almost your height.

You scuffle away faster as he moves to approach you, and you know exactly what’s coming.

He grabs you by the arm and pulls you up, your ankle twisting in your heel before you can get your feet under you.

It hurts, but you can’t worry about it because you’re being pulled along with the group of men.

“She’s gonna slow us down, I thought we agreed to pick someone with flat shoes?” One of the unknown men says.

His hand tightens on your arm.

“If another one of you questions me, I’m putting a bullet in your head.” He hisses out, pulling you along.

You try to stand your ground, to pull away, but someone else grabs your other arm and you’re suddenly being more pulled along than anything else.

“Stop.” You grit out, wriggling in their grips, “Let me go.”

They don’t answer you, moving fast through the side exit, and towards a sleek vehicle.

It blends in with the rest, and when they try to force you into the back seat, you lean away, bringing your hands up to brace them against the car to stop yourself from going any further.

It’s then that you lash out, knowing the scary statistic of being taken to a secondary location, you swing a kick at one man, elbowing the other as hard as you can.

It barely does anything, your manoeuvrability is difficult in your pretty dress, someone uses your disadvantage to grip your wrists behind your back.

“Fuck this- open the trunk.”

You struggle more, someone grabs your feet and then you’re picked up, tossed into the trunk, your body aching at the impact.

The trunk slams shut, and all you can hear is your own disoriented breathing and the muted thudding of the other doors in the car closing. Your body jerks as the car takes off rapidly.

.

.

.

[rootedinrevisions]

In the Wings: Part 4

SUMMARY: When Glen casually invites you to a cast movie night, you don’t think much of it—until you arrive and end up squeezed between him and Miles on a crowded couch. As the film plays, you and Glen share light banter, a bowl of popcorn, and a few fleeting touches that seem more meaningful than expected.

OTHER PARTS: PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3

WARNINGS: None. Just Fluff in this one!

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

TAG LIST: SEE COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell (himself and the characters he's played)

Top Gun: Maverick (Hangman, Rooster, possibly others soon)

Marvel / MCU (Bucky Barnes as of now, but possibly others soon)

WWE / Wrestling

It's late in the day, and the sun starting to sink toward the horizon, casting a golden glow through the small window of the hair and makeup trailer. The rest of the team has already left for the day, and you’re tidying up your station, organizing brushes and makeup palettes in a quiet routine that helps wind down the day. 

The door creaks open behind you, and when you glance up in the mirror, there’s Glen—fresh from the set, his hair tousled from the wind, a smile lighting up his face.

“Hey,” he greets you, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Got a minute?”

You turn around, meeting his gaze with a small, tired smile. “Yeah, what’s up? Need a touch-up?” You ask as you point to his windblown hair.

Glen chuckles, shaking his head as he steps into the trailer, letting the door swing shut behind him. “Nope, not this time. Just finished for the day. But I was actually wondering if you’re free tonight.”

You raise an eyebrow, not sure where this is going but curious. “Free for what?”

“Some of the cast are having a little movie night back at the hotel. Nothing fancy, just hanging out, and watching something that’ll probably end up being a bad action flick. You should come. You know, if you’re up for it.” He grins, his eyes bright with an invitation that feels more personal than just a casual ask. His tone is casual, but there’s something in the way he says “You should come” that makes your heart skip a beat.

You hesitate for a second, caught off guard by the idea of spending time with Glen outside of work. “I don’t know…” you start, glancing at the mess still left to clean up, trying to come up with an excuse, but Glen shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about all this,” he gestures around the trailer. “You’ve been working hard all day. The trailer will survive without you for one night.”

You laugh softly, feeling a little less resistant as he steps closer, his easy charm working its magic. "You make it sound like I'm over here saving lives with these brushes."

"You kinda are," he says with a playful grin. "I mean, you make me look like a functioning human being every day, so yeah, I think that's pretty heroic."

You roll your eyes but can't help the small smile tugging at your lips.

“Seriously, it’ll be fun. And besides," he adds, dropping his voice a little, "I wouldn't mind having someone to keep me company.”

His words hang in the air for a moment, a flicker of something deeper beneath the surface. You glance up at him, meeting his gaze, and realize he's serious. It’s not just about the movie night. It's about spending time with you, beyond the set, beyond the trailer.

Your heart flutters just a bit, and before you can think twice, you find yourself nodding. "Okay, I'll come," you say, trying to keep your voice steady.

Glen’s smile widens, a look of genuine excitement crossing his face. “Awesome. I’ll see you there, then.” As he heads out, he throws you one last smile over his shoulder. 

The trailer feels quieter after he leaves, but your mind is buzzing with the idea of the night ahead. The small exchange feels more significant than it should, and suddenly, the thought of seeing him again later has you feeling a lot more excited than you'd expected.

Later that night, you find yourself in the hotel suite where everyone’s gathered for the movie night. The lights are low, a couple of people already sprawled out on couches or grabbing snacks from the small kitchen area. You spot Glen almost immediately. He’s standing by the counter, a beer in hand, talking to one of the other actors, but when he sees you come in, his expression brightens.

“Hey, you made it!” Glen says, his voice cutting through the casual murmur of the room. He crosses over to you in a few quick strides, and you feel that familiar warmth in his presence as he reaches you.

“Yeah, I figured I could use a break after today,” you reply, giving him a playful look.

He chuckles, then gestures toward the kitchen. “You want something to drink? I think we’ve got everything covered—beer, wine, maybe some soda and water if you’re feeling responsible.”

“Surprise me,” you say with a grin, just as you had earlier.

Glen nods, making his way back toward the drinks, and you take a moment to glance around the room. Some of the other cast members wave, but your focus keeps drifting back to Glen. He returns with a cold bottle in hand, holding it out to you with a smile that feels a little more personal than usual.

The two of you chat casually with the others for the next half hour, but even amidst the group, you can’t help but notice how often Glen finds a way to talk just to you—asking how your day went, throwing in small jokes that only you two seem to get. There’s an ease to the conversation, a rhythm that feels natural but also charged with something just beneath the surface.

At one point, your eyes meet across the room while you’re both talking to different people. It’s brief, but there’s a spark in that glance, a silent acknowledgment that you’re both aware of the growing connection. You quickly look away, your heart racing just a little faster than before.

As the movie night starts winding down and everyone begins settling in for the film, you glance around the room, trying to decide where to sit. The couches are quickly filling up, and most of the chairs have already been claimed. It looks like your only option might be the floor, and you’re about to resign yourself to it when you hear a voice pipe up from across the room.

“Hey, there’s a spot right here,” Miles calls out, grinning as he gestures to the couch where he’s sitting beside Glen. “Between us.”

You hesitate, looking between the two of them. Glen’s eyes meet yours from where he’s seated, his lips twitching into a small, inviting smile.

The spot between them is definitely tight, but you start making your way over, feeling the playful pressure of the room’s eyes on you. When you reach the couch, you glance at the narrow space, then at Miles, giving him a look as if to say seriously, this is your idea of a seat?

Miles just shrugs, feigning innocence. “You might have to squeeze in a little. Don’t worry, Glen doesn’t bite.” Glen shoots him a mock glare but then catches your eye again, motioning for you to sit down. 

He shifts closer to the arm of the couch, giving you a little more room, and moves his arm to rest casually on the back of the couch. “Come on, we’ll make it work.”

You exhale a quiet laugh and slide in beside him. It’s still a snug fit, but the atmosphere feels relaxed enough, and you settle into the space, aware of Glen’s arm resting comfortably behind you.

As the movie starts, Glen leans over slightly, offering you some popcorn from the bowl he’s holding on his lap. “Want some?” he asks, his voice low, not wanting to interrupt the film.

You glance at him, surprised. You’ve heard him talk about how seriously he takes his popcorn on set, and he’s never been one to share. According to him, he likes to have his own bowl to himself.

Before you can reach for a handful, someone else across the room chimes in with a teasing tone. “Wait, Glen’s sharing his popcorn? What is this, a special occasion?”

A round of soft chuckles follows, and you catch Glen rolling his eyes in mock exasperation. “It’s no big deal,” he mutters, brushing off the tease, but you can’t help the small giggle that escapes you.

You take a small handful, your fingers brushing against his briefly as you do. It’s a quick moment, but you feel the warmth of his hand and find yourself hyper-aware of his presence beside you. A few minutes later, you both reach for the bowl at the same time, and your hands meet again, lingering just a second longer before you both pull back with a soft, shared smile.

As the movie plays on, you start to get more absorbed in the story. There’s a particularly intense scene on-screen, the tension mounting, and suddenly, without warning, there’s a jump scare. You gasp, startled, your body instinctively shifting toward Glen, leaning in closer without realizing it.

Beside you, Glen chuckles softly, his voice low in your ear. “You okay there?” he teases, his tone light.

Before you can respond, you feel his hand slide from the back of the couch down to your shoulder, resting there gently. It’s a small gesture, not overly flirty, but the warmth of his hand lingers, grounding you after the sudden scare. The touch is brief but comforting, and though it’s casual, you take note of it, feeling the subtle shift in your connection.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you reply with a soft laugh, brushing it off even though your heart is still racing a bit—not just from the movie, but from the growing awareness of Glen’s presence beside you.

The movie continues, but your mind keeps drifting back to the way his hand rested on your shoulder, and how easy it felt to be next to him, even in the small, unspoken moments. The chemistry between you two is undeniable, and though nothing overt has been said or done, it’s becoming harder to ignore the quiet pull drawing you closer.

[redr0sewrites]

Okay as an absolute Lute stan I have been STARVING for more content for her omg 💀 I've always wondered though about her angel form and stuff like that, like specifically her wings. Do you think the wings are like any other part of her body, or are they like especially sensitive? And I wonder if they preen like birds do because omg that would be so cute. Just imagine Lute having a super stressful day from work and you come home and just gently start fixing her wings and she just melts 😭 or imagine that someone in heaven being a dick to you (because Adam proves that there can be assholes in heaven) and she gets all protective and wraps a wing around you like a shield. And omg, if they are a sensitive or even erogenous part of her, don't even get me STARTED on wing sex cause gah damn 😤 I want to do the most unspeakable things to this woman and have her do the most unspeakable things to me

URGRHRHRHRG SO REALLLLLL!!!!! i love lute sm we need more lute content fr!!!!!

🥀Cw: fluff, smut, wing kink (??), sappy/soft lute, lots of trust

🥀minors dni with the nsfw portion

sfw:

for lute to even be in a relationship, she has to trust you a LOT, and the same goes for touching her wings

i def hc them as sensitive, and there is def a lot of intimacy and trust that comes with touching someone elses wings, so shes def hesitant to let you touch them at first

she warms up to it over time tho, and pretty soon shes internally begging for you to touch her wings

she LOOOVES it but would never admit it

lute also enjoys back massages in general, being an exterminator means a lot of training and stress so she loves coming home and collapsing on top of you while you rub her wings :(

she def returns the favor too, she's always giving you massages and taking care of you, even going so far as to prioritizing you over herself

as much as shes a giver, deep down lute wants to be loved

she craves validation from those she cared about, and while she doesn't like seeming weak, there is something so freeing about knowing that you'll always take care of her, even in a vulnerable state

lute isn't huge on PDA or physical contact in general, but def uses her wings to steer you around and keep you close to her

yk how birds have mating dances and rituals w their wings?? when lute first met you, her wings kept subconsciously gravitating towards you, and she kept subconsciously fluffing them up and flapping them around you (much to her dismay, adam noticed and teased her MERCILESSLY)

shes pretty protective in general, but she also trusts you can take care of yourself. however, that doesn't mean she won't tuck you against her side if someone comes up to you and tries to give you unwarranted attention

i hc her as the jealous type, and her wings have the tendency to twitch and wrap around you when shes jealous (you think its ADORABLE)

i also think lute would love it if you wore one of her feathers, angel wings shed a lot when preened and her heart would skip a beat if she realized you kept one

it may not seem significant to you, but the fact that you're keeping a part of her close at all times means a lot to her

preening oneself can be difficult, and i hc that lute def doesn't take good care of herself often

sure she has good hygiene, but shes never been one to do extensive self care or care much ab herself at all

so she's never really done a lot of work on her wings, when it gets really uncomfortable she'll clean them but she's not super meticulous about it

once you come around tho, lute is gen surprised that you would even bother to do it for her

she tries to convince you not to, that its okay and that she can do it herself, but you shush her

lute can't help but feel a little embarrassed as you comb through the soft feathers, picking out all the dead foliage and cleaning her plumage

once its over, she's shocked at how nice it feels and has ever since asked you to do it for her

overall its really intimate and means a lot to her

nsfw:

the majority of the time, lute is a dom, her whole life she's been in control, especially in the bedroom

once you come along though, that starts to change

she always kept her wings hidden during sex, and was shocked when you asked her to keep them out.

when you said you wanted to try something new, she agreed, but was still a bit confused

lute never really had the time to masturbate or have long term partners, most of the sex she's had was quick hookups just to relieve tension

when you first touch her wings, she MELTS

she did not expect them to be so sensitive, but after years of neglect, she nearly comes on the spot just from your gentle strokes

lute is a quivering mess, begging you to keep going as you explore her wings

theres a level of trust that's unprecedented to any relationship she's ever had before, and you explore and memorize every reaction she has

each spot that makes her tick, which places make her moan the loudest, you store all of it in your brain as you slowly bring her to relesse

lute isn't used to being treated so sweetly, to being touched as if she were made of glass, and the whole circumstance makes her emotional

if you have wings she def returns the favor (very much willing to elaborate on a reader w sensitive wings😇)

after the first couple times, lute wouldn't mind you getting a little rougher with her wings

hell, she might even ask for you to tie them down, to play with them mercilessly as she squirms below you

lute is the ultimate switch, she can be a rough dom or a soft dom, a bratty sub or a pillow princess, it all depends on how shes feeling

sure, she loves it when you pamper her wings, but there's something so fucking hot about you fucking her senseless without even touching her

RAHHHH LUTE MY BELOVED <33333 the sapphic within me is begging to be set free i am a certified lute kisser yall

[l-in-the-light]

Trafalgar Law and shreds of closeness part 3: Donquixote Family Edition

What can I say, I got struck with inspiration yet again, the thoughts just do not want to leave me. This time it will get dark. And it will hurt, so feel warned. I will take a closer look at Law's closeness to the Donquixote Family and also do a small case study of affection between Doffy and Cora and their dad as well, to get a fuller context. Main focus will be on physical affection, yet again.

So what do you think, did Law get support and affection from his "second family"? I would say, very little. But let's look at evidence:

We have verbal support from Doflamingo himself when Giolla and Buffalo start to fear to touch Law or to even stay in the same room after they learn he's sick. That's 1:0 for him, I'm sure Law appreciated and remembered it. In retrospection, it would have been better for him if he didn't.

Then we have Giolla and Machvise who handled him like he's an object. Giolla keeps touching Law on the head, probably not caring why he seems displeased with it. She's just reinforcing the trauma, but I think overall she means well, she just doesn't think much about it. Giolla also shows Law the most physical affection and I swear it feels like she's trying to make up for her initial reaction, she's just not going the right way about it, making it worse instead.

Meanwhile we have Doflamingo, who despite defending Law before, never touches him. And I mean, never ever. Doffy remains cold not only with Law though, which we will see in a moment.

And then we have Baby5. She feels sorry for Law and even cried for him when she heard the story of Flevance (not in Law's presence tho), but she herself is bad with affection and care, because she also never received much, it also doesn't help that she is genuinely scared of Law's angry glares. All she can do to show him she cares is to smack and scold him. And of course when she does smack him it's on the head, which only becomes a trauma trigger over and over again. Those two just completely miss each other by a mile.

That's it. No other Donquixote Family's member ever tried to show some care in front of Law. They train him of course, but would you count kicking and punching him as a positive experience? Yeah, I don't think so.

And let's not forget Corazon, who carried Law like a bag of potatoes (and threw him around) for a long time, even after he kidnapped him. The Trip to Hospitals All Around the World kinda made him become better, holding Law close, trying to make him smile, carrying him all the time and at one point he even begs Law: "please give me the chance to do things right, stay strong for 3 more weeks!". Doesn't change the fact the touches he did give Law at the beginning were brutalized forms of affection, and we can't really forget that fact: that's exactly how Law's trauma of being touched on the head even started in the first place.

He already trained for awhile, but he still failed in the confrontation, and I think it was because of the touch. Being pinned down made Law probably freeze and unable to move. But even after being saved by Doflamingo, Law doesn't even try to seek support in him, unlike Baby5. Here we can see Doflamingo is alright if someone seeks comfort in him, but he will not give it by himself. That makes Doflamingo-Law combo the worst possible match up, a person who will never give it first and a person who will never ask for it, no wonder things were always cold between them.

Thanks to the fight against Smoker in Punk Hazard we learn that Law managed to overcome his trauma of being pinned down to a significant degree, because he manages to escape on his own. This scene gets an extra focus in the manga (it takes like 5 different frames!) which further convinces me it's that siginifcant. Law probably trained himself not to get overwhelmed like that ever again. Still, I can't help but notice soon after this happened Law starts to have troubles breathing, which means it still didn't leave him unaffected. He pushes to finish the fight faster afterwards as well.

One of his trauma triggers is feeling helpless and being pinned down definitely counts for that. I don't think this started with Vergo, I would say it was already a thing after Flevance, when he had to discover more and more dead bodies of people dearest to him, unable to do anything about it.

Let's look at his symptoms thanks to which we can recognize he's going through a triggering situation. Visible shivering, heavy panting (to the point of weezing which makes me think it can even go as far as bordering on hyperventilation or the opposite - apnea). And then in the last image he just goes stiff which I interpret as him completely freezing up. Damn, that's actually a lot. It's very similar to Robin's trauma responses in Water 7.

You can also notice that Law clenches his fists and it seems to be a sign that he's struggling or forcing himself to be strong. He still does it *a lot* when he's an adult. I think it might have honestly became a habit. He does that just before a battle, in most stressful situations when he knows he can't show his emotions (or just doesn't want to), and well, if we go by the anime version, also when he leaves Wano with his own crew. Basically any time he makes a firm resolve or a hard decision, he also does that. I swear sometimes it feels like he struggles for half of the Dressrosa and Punk Hazard, which you know what, might be way too accurate.

Also bonus wholesome points for Luffy caring more to support Law and Muucy than caring for falling into water himself. I'm not sure how much that helped Law when he was dealing with a triggering situation, especially that unfortunate contact with the top of his head. I guess it's still better than similar situation but with Law completely alone.

This puts this scene into a completely new perspective, right? He's shivering here and definitely froze up, even his speech bubble looks distressed. He's not getting angry here, his trauma trigger kicked in. I did check if he ever shivers or freezes up when he tries to, for example, stop himself from feeling angry, but no, we never see that happen. I'm sorry for ruining the comedy :( tho to make it better, he's also shocked, because just moments before Strawhats feared him, and now they already don't and even laugh at him. Damn, I'm now so torn about this scene, I mean, Strawhats couldn't have known!

Now a promised closer look at Donquixote family's approach to closeness and touch. When they were still Celestial Dragons, they barely touched each other. No small touches on the back, hand holding or anything else you usually share with kids. The closeness starts only after they're all starting to be persecuted. First time we see Doffy holding his mom's hand is when they run away from their burning house. First time we are shown Homing hugging his kids is when village people are beating them up and he is just trying to cover them with his own body, so he takes the beating instead of his kids.

The last memory Rosinante has of his father is the hug. And the first memory he has of Sengoku is also a sort of half-hug. Might be why he got so attached to him.

Little Doflamingo and Rosinante are always together, but they never touch in any way. It's clearly Doffy who takes care of his younger brother, probably also telling him to toughen up.

Weird mocking touch on the head from Trebol. And like always, no one ever touches Doflamingo, not even his own officers, and that's true ever since Doffy was a child.

He even tells Trebol he's too close. Doffy doesn't want touches anymore, because it seems in his mind he understands them as someone protecting him, and he doesn't need protection. Ever since he killed Homing, Doffy took the role of being a head of the family and protecting Rosinante, so no more hugs or hand holding for him. In other words, Doflamingo associates physical affection with protection and incoming abuse. And whenever he touches someone it's exactly for that reason: to hurt them.

An interesting parallel because this happens in exactly same chapter: Law is trying to move away because Luffy's "too close". He even lets him take the transponder away and just stands there and waits. And you might wonder: what for? Is he hoping Luffy will give it back by himself?

No, it just took some extra time for Law to brace himself to touch Luffy and shove him to the side. Even though both Doffy's and Law's first instinct here is to move away, Law is struggling but actually tries to overcome it, contrary to Doffy, who seems content in his "no touching" comfort zone.

Let's take a look at Dressrosa now. Doffy is carrying Law by his clothes, Law is unconscious, but he will not touch him directly anyway. Cora-san used to do it as well at first to Law.

But then, you might ask, they fought so much in Dressrosa, surely some kind of touch had to happen as a result? I mean, most of them were indirect touches with Doffy's strings, kicking Law or stopping him by grabbing his sword. But you are right, exactly two touches do happen. You're not gonna like it.

This is literally the first time Doflamingo ever touched Law. To stop his attack he forcefully grabbed his hand. Law is shivering, this actually triggers him, and there's just no way Doflamingo doesn't know that, he can feel it.

And then he makes the full use of the situation. Doflamingo holds Law up in the air, but we can see by the onomatopeia that he's literally holding him up by his hand alone and Law is just freely dangling there, Doffy's not using any strings to immobilize him, not even armament haki. He doesn't even need to. Finally he gave Law the touch he must have been craving when he was a child from him, but it's not a caring one, and what's the next thing Doflamingo does to that hand he just touched? He cuts it off, ripping open the psychological wounds, making them deeper, perhaps hoping Law will never recover from them. Because that's the easiest way to control him later if he wishes to do so, to make him pliant, defenseless and unable to fight back and terrified. But also to punish him for the "rebellion" against him... but also to punish Law for his need and fear of touch. This is a lesson: never want affection, closeness or touch, you're never getting any. Unless it's this: abuse. And if you don't think this is terrible enough, let me remind you: this is their first touch *ever*, Law probably waited for it when he was a kid.

And Law is just hanging there, not even trying to move, and it lasts for like three or four pages long, and I remember when I reread this a couple of times, I was a bit puzzled. Why isn't Law struggling to release himself? Why is he just letting this happen? Especially when it's becoming very clear what Doflamingo is gonna do next. So I have my answer: Law froze up, it's his body shutting off on it's own and all he can do is to just be there and wait for it to be over. It's painful, because we know Law always struggles, always fights back, and he tries here, with words, but he can't do anything else and he just watches it happen.

And this is the second time Doflamingo touches him. It's after the Gamma Knife attack, Doffy knows what he's doing here, he chooses to make contact with Law's head/face (he must have noticed Law's discomfort to it before when Giolla often did it to Law as a kid, and now he utilized this knowledge). He tries to make Law freeze up so he can't finish his move and who knows, maybe that was the final factor of why Law failed to kill off Doflamingo.

To wrap things up, I will share the interesting parallel that I think can be drawn between two rather unexpected characters: Law and Boa.

Both Law and Boa are most comfortable around Bepo (and the snake in Boa's case). Both are victims of brutalized touch and lack of loving and caring one. But while Law fearfully accepts what's given to him, Boa rejects it (even symbolically by kicking fluffy animals away or refusing any show of affection like gifts). Both are touch starved, but Boa will never even try to touch Luffy, and the only time Luffy touched her was in that stealth mission in Impel Down (they didn't have the choice) and hugging her after she gave him the key to Ace's cuffs. Boa doesn't return the gesture, she is very flustered and falls to the ground afterwards, which reminds me a little of her later scene with Rayleigh. Not even Boa's own sisters are shown to share any sort of physical affection with her, Boa shows cold and manipulative attitude to almost everyone besides them. The only other person Boa ever touched was Rayleigh (she's on the ground here again) after he helped them fight off Blackbeard's assault on Amazon Lily and it might be a traumatic response: Blackbeard tried to strangle her after all. Boa's love is passionate and platonic, she shows her affection and caring with indirect gestures (food preparation, offering support and help etc.), probably because that's what she remembers others tried doing for her before. She can't even deal with intimacy face to face and Law also tends to act cold to very open displays of affection and emotions.

Big thanks to @tae-rambles for mentioning the scene with Boa that completely slipped my mind <3 added it in the edit!

[mycadences]

SJM said HOFAS would help set up the next ACOTAR book. And it did.

*HOFAS spoilers ahead!*

At the end of HOFAS, Bryce gave Gwydion to Nesta, bringing it back to the ACOTAR world.

Their names are practically identical. I don't know how you can see Gwydion and not think of Gwyn. It's like seeing a sword named Rhysarde and going "Oh yeah, totally doesn't sound like Rhysand at all. Yep." or a painting that is done by a Prythian artist called "Feyrere" and going "Hmm I wonder who that could be."

Now, get this: Gwydion was last used by some dude called Fionn. Why is that important?? And here, here is the part where your mind is going to be blown:

FIONN IS LITERALLY ANOTHER NAME FOR GWYN. HELLO.

More evidence if you need:

Who else had (I typed "has" initially *sobs*) a twin? Who else glows when she sings? Who else is connected to both Nesta and Azriel, and has a very high chance of obtaining the sword? Who also has the skills to actually WIELD the sword?

So, just to confirm the facts:

Gwydion, Gwyn and Fionn (the last wielder of Gwydion) are all related names in some way or another

Gwydion glows when it is being used, like how Gwyn glows when she is singing

Gwydion is a sword (duh). Gwyn is a priestess-Valkyrie who, you know, uses a sword. And uses it pretty darn well, too.

Gwydion is the twin to Azriel's Truth-teller. Gwyn herself was a twin.

Gwydion is now back in the ACOTAR world, being one of the most significant things to happen (in terms of ACOTAR storyline) in the HOFAS crossover.

(A little of an aside here: I'm not insisting that Gwynriel's book has to be next. I know there's... a bit of tension running between Gwynriels and Eluciens regarding whose book is next, and personally, it (the order) doesn't matter to me! It's a win-win for me either way lol. This post is more for those *cough you know who you are cough* who think that Gwynriel can't be endgame because of "plot reasons" when the plot clearly says otherwise.)

And I know after saying all this some people will still insist that Gwyn(riel) won't be important. *shrugs* But you know what? I don't really care. I'm making this post to remind fellow Gwyn(riels) not to worry and to stoke the embers of our hope.

After all, it is not blind confidence that inspires me, but ✨ irrefutable canon ✨

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hello hello! Long time follower!

I really like reading all your translations, theories and fanfics! It's really great to be able to read your thoughts about characters and cards because am a f2p so I have a very limited stash of gems to pull lol

So I was thinking about the rrcent jp update and I went back to read some of your work on Scarabia. I'll admit they weren't amongst my favorites before so I haven't paid too much attention to them. I was wondering then about the couple times you've said Jamil is well off? Maybe it's from one of his SSR cards of his home event, but I can't remember where he or maybe Kalim implies that?

That's it, just a silly question thanks so much for all that you do, I love so much all your theories and thoughts about the lore and the cast! Have a good day!

Hdsbskwhsk I’m glad that my blog brings you joy and makes your free to play experience more fun 🤩 Thanks for sticking with me all this time!

As for your question, I’m not actually sure if there's dialogue which explicitly states the Viper family's level of wealth. I couldn't find any when I combed through, so I had to go off of implications and my own interpretations of those. From what I’ve gathered, I see the Vipers as upper middle class, or at least middle class with a LOT of benefits (the benefits being present boost them to upper middle class due to the lifestyle the benefits afford them).

So firstly, I think there's a lot of debate surrounding Jamil's family income. Some fans seem to think that the Vipers must be destitute due to their position as servants and Jamil's disdain for how the Asims throw around their money and influence. However, perceived social status or class does NOT always equate to being low income. There are people irl who are technically "servants" and "hired help" that make a significant salary while working for much wealthier individuals. There is data for bodyguards, private chefs, executive assistants, and skilled nannies who earn six-figure incomes and/or excellent benefits working for celebrities, politicians, businessmen, etc. (Notably, guarding, cooking, scheduling/planning, and generally looking after Kalim are all a part of Jamil's duties.) Real world examples of this include employees of the White House and the British royal family.

Now, that all depends a lot on the type of people the employers are. There are many wealthy families who mistreat their staff and/or don't pay them well. From what I've seen of the Asims though, I definitely feel that this is not the case. To begin with, the Vipers don't just do one task for the Asims, they do a LOT. You're already aware of the constant work Jamil has to do around the clock to keep Kalim safe and satisfied, but his parents must do the same. They're described as experts in hospitality and are frequently hosting and entertaining guests from all over Twisted Wonderland. This is skilled labor, and that demands commiserate pay. Not only that, but Kalim describes his father as someone who is very generous (and the guy has plenty of money to spare). I don’t see why Mr. Asim would purposefully skimp on specifically paying the Vipers.

I would also imagine that the Vipers are afforded other benefits. Jamil has said many times that he has to look or act a certain way, as his behavior/appearance reflects on the family he serves. Therefore, the Asims may provide other things Jamil and the Vipers need to “look good” and to best represent and serve the Asims. This could mean food, clothes, transportation/travel expenses, education (like additional training, manners lessons, certification exams, etc.) all paid for on the Asim family’s coin. Jamil has mentioned that his parents gave him lessons in everything he’d need to know in order to serve Kalim, so this tells his parents are also well-educated and/or were at least able to pay for lessons for Jamil. And these lessons aren’t “normal” lessons either, it includes things like formal bodyguard training (you’d have to pay for this irl) and formal table manners (which most of us aren’t taught unless we seek it out).

We also recently learned in book 7 that the Vipers live on Asim property, which is very luxurious. Jamil states that his family would be on the streets should they lose their place serving the Asims—and this could be interpreted in a very literal sense if we think of as losing the roof over their heads. Yes, it's technically not land or housing that the Vipers own, but it is still free high-class lodging, nonetheless. It is a benefit that is afford to them (among others) because of their job(s), similar to those real life examples I mentioned before. One could make the argument that none of this wealth truly belongs to the Vipers. However, you could also argue that because these benefits come with the job, it technically is theirs as long as they keep their job (which is, in fact, how jobs irl work; if you stop working for an employer then naturally you’ll stop getting the benefits that come with that job eventually). It’s complicated. I suspect that, at the very least, part of the reason why the Vipers don’t want to depart from serving the Asims is because they don’t want to lose the pay and the perks that come with their work.

I want to add that the Vipers’ position also gives them the unique advantage of exposing them to tons of important individuals. They are able to meet and connect with these VIPs when most people could never even dream of meeting them, even if just from the viewpoint of a servant. It’s a similar to Lilia and Silver, who technically are not rich (money-wise) but still have ties with majorly influential people (members of the Draconia royal family).

Obviously, the Vipers still aren’t as rich as the Asims and probably will never be, but I believe they still enjoy a comfortable lifestyle. We never see Jamil worry about money or being short of it. He gives his VDC/SDC earnings away without batting an eye, unlike Deuce (from a single-parent income family) who keeps the money since it would really help out his mom. He doesn’t have to work a ton of odd jobs to make ends meet (unlike Ruggie). But Jamil does haggle and act frugal. I think that behavior comes from not a genuine need but Jamil being mindful and planning ahead to avoid being scammed. He’s shown to be a cautious individual who often is the one putting the breaks on Kalim’s extravagance, so I feel the skill also comes partly from having to be the one to curb his ridiculous spending and bring Kalim down to earth. Jamil is still the type of person who would tell Kalim when he’s buying too much or overdoing things, even when it’s not Jamil’s own money being spent and he knows Kalim can afford it. That’s what leads me to believe his frugalness isn’t necessarily the result of him being low income and “needing” to save. If that were the case, he shouldn’t care if Kalim throws his own money at buying diamond jewelry for all the dorm members as souvenirs.

I think the closest metric we have as a frame of reference for how wealthy Jamil is comes from the Tapis Rouge event. In it, Jamil forks out 500 thaumarks (or 50000 madol) to buy a jacket. He remarks that the price is fairly expensive but good quality so it’s worth it. Whether you consider this an indicator of his low or high wealth is really all relative to what your own perception is. Jamil had also previously remarked that what the Mostro Lounge charges is absurd. In Ruggie’s Ceremonial Robes vignettes, Azul quotes the price of one soft drink as 4 thaumarks/400 madol. Jamil responds with “Four? Talk about a markup.” It should be noted that the latter example doesn’t mean Jamil cannot afford a drink of that price; he’s complaining about how expensive Azul has made it to capitalize on the high demand. Do with this knowledge what you will.

Anyway, those are my thoughts! I hope I was able to explain myself well. If you have any thoughts, please feel free to express them ^^