#so i thought id ask if anyone is even interested before i do

[chisungie]

.

[riddlerosehearts]

thinking about how people who watch the emperor's new groove and somehow come out of it shipping pacha and kuzco, or thinking yzma only became evil when kuzco fired her and that she would've been a better ruler than him, are both so wrong in so many different ways and are also missing one of the things that i absolutely love about the movie. which is that, the way i see it, pacha and yzma are counterparts. as parental figures to kuzco.

like, just to get this out of the way first, yzma was a dismissive asshole to a peasant whose family was starving. and yeah, if kuzco had been in her place he definitely would've also done that, which... is why she would not be a better ruler than him. she'd just be the same because they're both horrible people in the exact same ways. her reaction to being fired is to plot murder, and as soon as his funeral is over she sets everyone to work on replacing paintings of kuzco with paintings of herself and covering the palace with imagery that makes it clear that it's all about her now. i'm not even sure why this is a discussion tbh.

and also, kuzco is literally a teenager. he's barely 18 years old. source: in the movie, yzma says at his funeral that kuzco was "taken from us so tragically on the very eve of his eighteenth birthday." she also claims in the movie to have "practically raised" him, to which kronk replies "yeah, you'd think he would've turned out better". and sure, she could be exaggerating, but what evidence do we have that she is? we learn absolutely nothing of his parents, who are never mentioned even once in the movie, or of anyone else who could've raised him, and she's his advisor who for some reason sees no problem with attending to royal duties in his place. most likely because she's his regent. also, i'm not exactly a fan of the sequel tv series "the emperor's new school" but it does have something that backs up my point: kuzco is revealed to be an orphan and just before his father went and got lost at sea, he asked yzma (who was also his advisor) to take care of kuzco if anything happened to him. so, yeah, the writers who worked on the series clearly thought that yzma genuinely did raise kuzco, and nothing in the movie contradicts this.

and i find the idea of her being his only parental figure for pretty much his whole childhood incredibly interesting because, and this also goes back into why she wouldn't be a better ruler than him--she mirrors him as a reflection of what would've become of him if he'd never met pacha. they're both incredibly arrogant, power-hungry, selfish, and cruel, with a tendency to blame their problems on everyone but themselves. yzma was even originally going to have her own reprise of kuzco's theme song "perfect world", which i really wish had been kept:

[ID: Lyrics that read:

I'Il be the sovereign queen of the nation And the chicest chick in creation I'm the cat with all the cream and ooh-la-la This deadly concentration Will put an end to my frustration Now this perfect world begins and ends with moi

What's my name? Yzma, Yzma, Yzma Yzma (what's my name?) Yzma, Yzma (What'd you say?) Yzma (Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!) Yzma. End ID]

(this song can be fully heard in "the sweatbox", the documentary about the making of the movie, and is also on youtube btw)

anyway, i'm sure yzma would not exactly have been the most nurturing or hands-on guardian, especially given that she and kuzco don't exactly treat each other like family. but it makes a lot of sense to think that her behavior influened kuzco's throughout the years. and for the entire movie, she remains determined to kill him. when he tries to reason with her and admits that he should've been nicer, she says the same thing to him that he originally said when he fired her. she never grows or changes and in the end, she hurts the one person who was willing to stand by her (and even then, kronk had never fully been on board with her plan) and he ends up trying to crush her with a chandelier. kuzco on the other hand is able to realize the error of his ways, come to regret who he was in the past, and start taking steps toward being a better person. his theme song gets a reprise where it's changed from a song about one person being the center of the world to a Power Of Friendship song. why? because, as i've already mentioned, he has pacha.

pacha, who similarly to both yzma and kuzco is in a position of authority as the leader of the village but unlike either of them is gentle and humble. who isn't afraid to stand up to kuzco and be honest with him even though he's the emperor, who agrees to take him back to the palace but has no obligation to be so helpful, kind, and caring toward him--and just about every reason not to be--and still chooses to be anyway. pacha who is 45 years old (also stated in the sweatbox documentary) and can see that kuzco is practically still a kid, not a single day over 18, who has time to grow and change. pacha, who already has a wife and two kids with another on the way, but practically treats kuzco like one of his own. who acknowledges that if kuzco dies all his problems will be gone and then still worries about him and goes out of his way to rescue him after he wanders into the jungle. who sees kuzco shivering at night and covers him with his poncho, who carries him when he's genuinely too weak to keep walking, who refuses to give up on him even after repeatedly being betrayed by him because he believes there's good in everyone.

also, while yzma ends up repeating kuzco's harsh words of dismissal as she tells him of her plans to kill him, kuzco had previously repeated pacha's words that "nobody's that heartless" after he saved pacha's life. and as the movie progresses kuzco and pacha's relationship becomes more and more equal and is constantly contrasted by moments of yzma being cruel and unappreciative of kronk's kindness. a good example of this is how kronk is constantly being forced to carry yzma everywhere on his back while yzma literally walks all over him and steps on his hands when she gets down, whereas when pacha briefly carries kuzco after the latter collapses he tells him he'll have to walk the rest of the way later and kuzco doesn't even protest.

idk if i'm even explaining well what i'm trying to say here. but basically, if yzma actually raised kuzco and contributed to his current behavior, then she and pacha both are figures who guided him and helped him grow. only yzma helped him become the tyrant that he was at the start of the movie, who was selfish and callous and saw everyone else as beneath him. whereas pacha helped him see the value in being selfless and considerate of others. and in the end, yzma is stuck as a cat and nobody is concerned about her. kronk has found a new job that makes him genuinely happy, while kuzco has decided to build a hut on the hill next to pacha's and effectively joined his family. in the sweatbox documentary it's even mentioned that chicha and the kids were at risk of being removed from the film, but it was decided that they needed to be there because having just pacha as a single guy who lived alone wasn't interesting enough--kuzco needed to go from having basically an empty world where he had nobody to being able to come together with pacha's whole family. and i just think that's incredibly satisfying and beautiful. it also leads up to one of the few things i really do enjoy about the emperor's new school, which is the fact that during the show kuzco moves in with pacha and chicha and pretty explicitly thinks of them as basically his parents while he's like a son to them.

idk. i feel like my mind went in a million different directions while i was writing all this. but i guess i just think that for all of the praise the emperor's new groove gets for its comedy and for how hilarious yzma and kronk in particular are as a duo, the movie also has a lot of genuine heart that gets overlooked. kuzco's character growth and his unique dynamic with pacha is, for me, really what elevates the movie from just a funny movie that i like to one of my favorite disney movies. and i wish more people appreciated that aspect of it and saw it as a found family story in the same way that treasure planet, brother bear, and lilo and stitch are all found family stories.

[4lydsmarie]

radio - dallas winston

“now my life is sweet like cinnamon” - radio, lana del rey

dallas winston x newgirl!reader note: reader and dallas are underage drinking, reader gets a little tipsy. dallas realizes he has a lover boy side after all..just fluff basically? a/n: this takes place in the 60s! 60s detroit has my heart of course i had to involve it just a bit. 💋

your parents had decided to move you to tulsa, against your will of course, in hopes of living a “calm small town life” in their words. you thought it was just unnecessary. you were happy back home in detroit, enjoying the motor city and it’s homey feel. moving all the way to oklahoma to live in some small town felt idiotic. but, what could you do? you’d already settled into your new “home” and it’s not like your words could convince your parents anyways. 

the cool summer breeze had sent you wandering into buck merrill’s roadhouse. you’d heard from a couple of people in your neighborhood that it was a place most people went to for drinks, fights, and just to be lonely at. while it didn’t sound appealing, the drinks part settled well into your head. drinks were never your thing, but anything would make you feel better than being at home, the moving and adjusting had been all too much for you.

arriving at buck’s, many faces looked your way. some curious, some flirtatious, some disgusted. you flashed an awkward smile as you sat down and ordered a drink for yourself.

across the bar sat dallas winston. dallas winston was known for his cold demeanor and player antics. ask anyone and they’d tell you, he had no care in the world for anyone. not even himself. 

he’d noticed you just as everyone else had. new girl for sure, but something else about you interested him. he couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

lost in his thought, he hadn’t realized buck was right behind him.

“someone’s caught your eye, huh dally?” buck teased. “nah man, just lookin. hey, you got a light?” dallas avoided buck’s teasing as much as he could. but buck was right, you had caught his eye.

buck handed dallas a cigarette as dallas lit it and held it to his lips, still eyeing you closely.

you felt someone’s eyes on you, but to be honest who’s wasn’t? everyone felt eager to know who you are. it wasn’t often someone decided to settle their lives in tulsa. if anything it was more common for people to pack up and leave tulsa for good. everyone was curious to know you.

something told you to turn your head to the corner..maybe it was intuition, maybe it was just your knowledge. but you decided to do what your gut told you. 

that’s when you noticed him.

just by looking at him you could tell the kind of person he was. stuck up, unserious, to himself. he was mysterious in a way, and for some reason that drew you to him. it made you wanna know more about him. 

so being the newcomer yourself, you decided to approach him. he didn’t look any older than you..mature in face and body language but you could still tell he was your age.

as you made your way towards him you noticed him shuffle in his seat, sitting up and clearing his throat a bit. “hey” you said blankly. “hey, doll. whatsa pretty girl like you doin in this dump, huh?” the newfound nickname put a light blush on your face. luckily, neon signs filled the house, perfectly hiding in the tint. “no choice but to move here, parents forced me..” you responded, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“mm, you a soc or a grease?” dallas responded, leaning back a bit. “huh? what’s that?” your face twisted in confusion, causing dallas to let out a laugh before responding. “sorry, forgot your new doll. soc’s are the west side kids. y’know the ones that got it made. their stupid fancy cars and pathetic polo shirts. just jerks. greasers are guys like me. low-life, less money, don’t got it all like the rest do.” you didn’t know what answer to give. you sure weren’t rich and popular, yet you weren’t poor and a “low life” like he’d described.

“neither id say. i don’t live in the rich neighborhood, but not the low-life neighborhood you describe either. im just normal..” you replied. dallas nodded knowingly before changing the subject. “didn’t catch a name for ya, doll.” his new york accent strung with every word. “yn..yours?” dallas sat up in his seat, “dallas. dallas winston. the fuzz probably know my name more than anyone. call me dally.” you smiled. you’d remember that name. hell, you’d remember everything about him. from his mysterious demeanor to his thick new york accent. 

every word, every movement he made, had you wanting to know more and more about him. “and why do cops know you, dally?” he smiled at you using his nickname before he spoke. “cause i get into trouble y’know? eh at this point whenever something happens im the first the fuzz run to. jerks..” dallas muttered the last word. he’d seemed like the kind of guy who had stories to tell for days, maybe weeks. 

“enough about me doll, i wanna know about you now.” dallas smirked. “nothin much to know..” you responded hesitantly. “don’t get all shy with me doll, just wanna get to know you” dallas could see right through you, and how nervous you’d suddenly gotten. “maybe that’s enough talk..let’s drink? you a drinker?” dallas changed the subject to your comfort, something he’d never do for anyone else unbeknownst to you. there was something about you that still pulled dallas in..made him wanna know you from head to toe, whatever that meant. 

“no i’m not really a drinker but anything feels good at the moment” you laughed. dallas took this as a sign to order whatever sounded good. vodka, whiskey, even beer. just the usual, just to occupy you. you took whatever he’d given you, downing it the minute you got it and making a face of disgust. dallas laughed at the sight. “cute..” he mumbled. then, dallas had realized it. he was falling for a girl he’d barely known, his laid back “no fucks in the world” demeanor was being crushed by a new town girl. 

hours had passed, you were now drunk and tired, words seemingly slurring before you could even form a sentence. “let’s get ya home, doll” dallas said, helping you to stand and walking you out of buck’s. before he’d left, he’d asked if anyone knew where you lived. since the town wasn’t too big and you were new, it was easy for him to figure that out from anyone there.

once dallas got you home to your doorstep you were a tad bit sobered up, just enough to carry your own weight. 

“hey uh, y’know if you ever want company you can just uh, call me or somethin.. never really busy and if i don’t answer it’s cause i got in with the fuzz.” dallas said, scratching his head. you smiled at the boys pathetic yet cute words. he’d wanted your company without asking for it. “yeah sure, why not? don’t get yourself into too much trouble now, i wanna see you more dally.”

and somehow to dallas, the nickname had squeezed his heart yet again. everyone called him dally, why was it different when you said it? you’d waved goodbye to dallas and went into your house, seemingly the call for dallas to make his way back to buck’s. the whole way back, his mind was stuck on you.

you’d made his life a little more interesting, a little sweeter, a little more desireable to live in just one night. you’d made his life a little “sweet, like cinnamon”.

[queermania]

I don't want to start drama and I don't expect you to respond to this but I think you deserve to know what's being said about you. tumblr. com/transfagbenny/738678589192552448/and-id-appreciate-if-we-stopped-using-the-terms

i actually am going to address this because this person has been lying about what's been going on for months and they've apparently been harassing other people for months if not years, so. it's time to put an end to this.

before i start though i want to make it abundantly clear that if you take this as an opportunity to do anything other than block this person, then you are trash. do not send him messages. do not tag him in things. do not harass him in any way. leave him alone. if you need to block, do so and then move on. hate mail and harassment is disgusting behavior and i don't want to be surrounded by anybody who engages in it. and if you do it on my behalf, i think you are worthless and i want nothing to do with you.

so, this is what happened: back in february of 2023, an anon asked me if i had any opinions that would get me canceled with the dean girlies. i replied, "oh now we’re talking!! hmmmm let’s see. i don’t care about benny at all. deanbenny does nothing for me. deanbenny is dust. it is dust. drowley rights forever" and i did not tag it because i'm not an asshole. bear then sent me a message that at the time i thought was funny/cute because his url reflected that he was obviously a huge benny fan. we had a very cordial exchange. everything was good. we chatted a little bit about how neat it would've been if benny had been played by a black actor and how the racism problem with gordon would've been fixed if gordon had been played by a white actor. not all of our conversation is visible anymore (and i also don't think all of it was on this post anyway) because i've since blocked him so his replies no longer show up on my posts. the point is: everything was fine. it was a good tumblr exchange. he continued to follow me. i did not follow him then or at any point.

the problem is that he kept coming onto my posts and into my inbox to try to make things about benny. that is not okay. i had already said that benny was a character (and deanbenny a ship) that i was not interested in. to me, this is an obvious boundary i've established that he repeatedly crossed. it's not an egregious violation, obviously. more than anything it's annoying. what he should've done, if benny was that important to him, was unfollow me and move on. but he didn't and i indulged him for awhile but at a certain point i thought, "okay maybe if i stop indulging him, he'll take the hint." so i stopped responding. he did not take the hint. he got worse and he even started commenting on things that he couldn't make about benny, just to willfully misinterpret things i said and taking them completely out of context. unfortunately, i don't have receipts for any of this because at the time i didn't know it was going to become an actual problem (however I have since learned that this is an established pattern of behavior he engages in, so you can probably find examples on other people's blogs).

it got so annoying, though, that i very carefully broached the subject in a private server with people i trusted. without naming any names or using any incriminating language (i.e. not specifically referencing benny), i basically said that there was someone being annoying about a specific character on my posts and i wasn't sure what to do about it. immediately, a handful of people replied with some variation of "the benny stan? he's been doing that to me too." i do have receipts of this (and an entire server to back me up) but i hope you can all understand why i'm not going to provide those or name names (or ask anyone to get involved publicly). the point is, it became apparent that i wasn't the only one and this was a pattern of behavior. i also learned during that conversation that bear has a history of harassing people and calling someone racist or a transphobe if they block him.

at that point, i decided not to rock the boat. i would just continue to ignore him and maybe he would get bored and move on. well that obviously didn't happen. he kept doing it and as a fun added bonus, he started to make vague posts about me. the thing is i don't actually care if he vagueblogs about me. it's his blog. he can do whatever he wants. it's none of my business. i mean i personally think he should've just unfollowed but, again, his blog, his choice. it is annoying that every single time he would do it, someone would send me a link or a screenshot of him doing it, but that's not really his fault. so, again, i just ignored it.

this is where we get to the incident in question. after a private discussion among a small group of friends, i posted this obviously joke poll at the insistence of @letterstothedevil, a tumblr user who has given me permission to include her in this.

the original message about the poll:

the permission:

now EYE think it's abundantly clear that the poll was a joke amongst friends, but maybe it wasn't, and i'm not going to fault anyone for not magically knowing that. i am, however, totally willing to fault someone for being a gigantic asshole. bear commented on the post and i, admittedly, gave a somewhat dismissive response because at that point i was so tired of him being willfully obtuse and twisting every little thing i said that i just didn't want to bother. he then went and made a series of not-at-all-vague posts calling me racist and claiming that i simply do not care about the racism in the show and it's obvious because i've never ever discussed it on my blog (which is a hilarious lie given that i'd specifically discussed it on my blog with him). at that point, there was no reason not to block him. he was already doing the thing that i didn't want to deal with. so i did. and i thought that would be the end of it.

again, i was wrong.

i then started to get anon messages daily about benny and deanbenny and how i'm racist for not liking benny, etc. this was harassment that EYE was on the receiving end of. nobody else was a victim of the messages i was being sent. they were sent to me and it is not my job to make sure other people are protected from the harassment that i am experiencing. i'm pointing this out for two reasons: 1. because i did try to protect bear from it for awhile anyway. i knew that people would assume it was him and at the time i was still giving him the benefit of the doubt, if for no other reason than the fact that i didn't think he could send me messages since i blocked him. and 2. because when i did finally start to respond to some of the messages, bear acted like he was somehow the victim in all of this (and continues to act that way to this day).

i don't know if bear had (or currently has) anything to do with any of the messages i get (which, thankfully, have slowed considerably). what i do know is that at no point during any of this happening did he stop looking at my blog and vagueblogging about me.

when i finally did answer a few of the messages, bear had a bit of a meltdown about it. i know this because he used a separate account that i hadn't know existed to message me and because he talked to one of my friends about it. (i'm not going to name that person but if they want to get involved publicly of their own accord, that's up to them lol). i'm also not going to share screenshots of what bear said to me because he explicitly asked me not to (it's also the reason i'm not sharing screenshots of the numerous receipts i have of the things he's said and lied about on his blog but, unless he's deleted any of them, you can go and find the posts yourselves.) what i am going to share is that in the message he sent to me, he flat out lied about his behavior. he told me he hadn't been vague-blogging about me, that he would never ever do that about anyone, and that he would certainly never harass someone (all things that i have receipts of him doing).

it took me awhile to respond to this message because i was still trying to be gracious about the whole situation. i recognize that he is much younger than i am and i think it's important for me, as a full blown adult, to take that into account. i had a private discussion with a few trusted friends about how to handle this because it was important to me to not let him off the hook for his behavior and for lying just because he's young. this is what i ended up saying:

his response was to double-down on his lies (while, hilariously, vague-blogging about me and the whole thing) and then go into victim mode about something so completely unrelated and far-fetched that i decided i simply wanted nothing to do with him ever. (this is when he asked me not to share screenshots, so i won't, but this is me saying that i have ALL of the receipts, bear, so if you continue to lie, you will not like what happens.) i blocked his alternate account and tried to ignore him.

the harassment continued. again, i have no idea if he was actually part of it. the vagueblogging continued. he started to do it to other people he associated with me. many of them blocked him because of his behavior. i continued to answer some of the hate i received, continued to ignore and/or block most of it. it got so bad that i was sent seizure bait on more than one occasion, one time bad enough that i actually ended up going to the ER. there are receipts of all of this, too. you can see on my blog the messages i've been sent. i think at one point i even shared a snapshot of what my inbox looked like. i've shared privately with friends (who can confirm if they want to, but no pressure) screenshots of the kinds of messages i get that i don't respond to. the point is, that for a period of months, i was relentlessly harassed. and at no point during this time did i say anything to or about bear (or anyone else). the most i've done is respond to messages that have been sent to me. i've largely sat quietly while this thing happened to me and bear continued to make posts about me and act like he is somehow a victim in this. he's assumed things about me and my identity. he's violated boundaries i've set. he will not let this go. and i'm not the only one he's doing it to.

i'm so fucking tired of it. leave me alone. leave my blog alone. leave my friends alone. leave any and all of the people who have blocked you for your own inappropriate and obnoxious behavior alone. that's it. that's the end. none of this would be happening if you would just respect other people's boundaries. i don't want you on my blog. i do not want to interact with you. i don't want anything to do with you. that's it. the end.

[littlest-w01f]

Bookstore

Nesta x Reader

Nesta MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: Nesta is at her favourite book shop, the owner has a new book for her

Cw: Dom/experienced Reader, F!Fingering, Smut 18+ MDNI

Nesta looked out to the sign of her favourite shop, well, it had only recently become her favourite, mostly because of you, the 'scorchingly hot owner' of the place, a phrase coined by Emerie and the normally bold Nesta Archeron, got unnervingly nervous around you.

The store is an old-style building with tall windows that let in plenty of natural light, casting long shadows across the shelves filled with various genres of literature. Inside, the air smells like old paper mixed with a hint of coffee coming from the small cafe tucked away in one corner, she was there when it just opened, before anyone.

At the front counter, you stood behind the register, your back towards the door as you busied yourself with some paperwork. You had long, curly hair that fell down her back perfectly, giving off an aura of sophistication yet approachability at the same time.

Nesta hesitated for a moment before pushing open the door, the bell above announcing her arrival with a cheerful ding. She stepped inside, her eyes immediately drawn to your form over the counter. The sight of you stirred something within her, a desire she couldn't quite put her finger on but desperately wanted to explore further.

As if sensing her presence, you straightened up and turned around, flashing her a warm smile that made Nesta's heart skip a beat. "Welcome back," you greeted, your voice smooth like honey. "I'm glad to see you again so soon."

Nesta returned the smile, feeling a blush creep onto her cheeks. "Hi… I was just in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by to browse." She glanced around the store, taking in the familiar sights and smells. "It's such a lovely day outside."

As you leaned against the counter, your curves accentuated by the formal clothes you wore, Nesta's gaze lingered on your curves, the swell of your breasts barely contained by the confines of your blouse. Her mind wandered to what lay beneath those professional clothes, imagining the softness of your skin, the firmness of your nipples. A sudden heat pooled between her thighs, making her shift uncomfortably, she'd never thought of the female body like that before looking over yours.

She quickly looked away, embarrassed by her reaction. "So, um, is there something new in today?" Nesta asked, trying to distract herself from the unfamiliar desires coursing through her body.

You chuckled softly, the sound sending shivers down Nesta's spine. "Well, we just got in a shipment of romace novels. Would you like me to show you?"

As you moved around the counter, Nesta caught a whiff of your perfume, a sweet, floral scent that mingled with the muskiness of your skin. It intoxicated her, making her head spin.

Nesta nodded, unable to tear her gaze away from your movements. The way your hips swayed subtly with each step was hypnotic, drawing her closer to the counter. You reached out tentatively, your fingers brushing against the spine of a book on the shelf beside you.

"You always have the best selection," Nesta commented, her voice barely more than a whisper now. But even that sound sent a thrill racing down your spine.

"I try my best," You replied, leaning in close enough that Nesta could smell the sweetness of your breath. Your lips were mere inches away from hers now, close enough to kiss if either dared to take that step. "Now what would you like? I know females like you like their spice."

The comment about her liking her spice caused Nesta to flush deeply, her pulse quickening. She wasn't sure why your words affected her so much, she wasn't one to blush, but she found herself wanting to hear more. "I do like spice..." Nesta mused aloud, her mind filling with all sorts of lewd images. She reached out to grab a romance novel off the shelf, turning to the back to read. The plot didn't interest her as much as the idea of you, the bookstore owner, sharing this intimate moment with her, and your gorgeous figure.

She glanced up at you, her heart pounding in her chest as she contemplated what to do next. Part of her wanted to reach out and touch you, to feel the warmth of your body under her fingertips. Another part of her wanted to lean in closer, pressing her body flush against yours and losing herself in a passionate kiss.

Your eyes locked onto Nesta's, seeing the desire burning within them. It mirrored the fire that had been stoked within your own belly. "Spice is good," you murmured, stepping even closer until there was no space left between you. The air seemed charged with electricity, every inch of your bodies practically humming with unspoken promises.

You noticed the book in her hand, the females on the cover, "Have you been with a female before?"

Nesta blinked, surprised by your direct question. She hadn't expected such boldness from you, given your previous conversations were only about books, despite the fact that she thought you would flirt with her. Yet, instead of being intimidated, she felt a rush of excitement. "No, not really," she admitted, her voice barely audible. "But I've always wondered…" Her curiosity piqued, she set the book back on the shelf and took a tentative step toward you.

"Wondered what, sweetheart?" You asked, your chests pressed together, your hand playing with the skirts of her gown.

"About how it feels, I suppose," Nesta confessed, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and arousal. She could feel the heat radiating off your body, almost overwhelming her senses. Then she tilted her head slightly, gazing up at you through her lashes, a little more confident. "I want you to show me."

You kissed her instantly, lips pressing together, your hands at her waist, pressing her into the bookshelf. Nesta gasped into the kiss, as she did you shoved your tongue into her mouth, tasting her, her body reacting instinctively to your touch. She wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you closer still. The sensation of your lips against hers was intoxicating, a sweet taste that made her knees weak. She moaned softly, the sound muffled by your mouth, as her body moulded itself to yours.

Your hands began to roam over her curves, tracing the outline of her waist before sliding upwards to cup her breasts. Through the fabric of her dress, you could feel the hardened nipples, begging for attention.

You kissed down her neck, licking and sucking, "Mother, you taste amazing."

A shiver ran down Nesta's spine as your lips trailed lower, leaving a trail of warmth and wetness in their wake. The compliment, though unexpected, sent a jolt of pleasure through her, causing her to grip tighter onto your shoulders. "Th-thank you?" she managed to stammer out, her voice shaky with desire. Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat echoing the throbbing between her legs. She was already wet with anticipation.

Reaching down, you pulled her skirt up, your hand on the drenched cloth covering her cunt, "Someone's excited," You teased.

Nesta whimpered, her hips bucking involuntarily as your fingers grazed the damp fabric. "Yes," she breathed out, her face flushed with shameless need. She couldn't believe how aroused she was, how eager to surrender to these newfound cravings. "Please, touch me," she begged, spreading her legs wider in invitation. The cool air hit her exposed skin, making her ache for your warmth once more.

"Oh, I entend to." You smirked, hand pressed against her heated cunt, pulling the cotton she wore to her ankles.

She bit her lip to stifle a moan, but it was impossible to contain the sounds of her pleasure. Each brush against her clit sent shockwaves of ecstasy through her trembling frame. Her hips rolled in time with your movements, silently urging you to continue.

Suddenly, you captured her mouth in another searing kiss, swallowing her cries as two fingers plunged deep inside her tight cunt. Nesta gasped, her inner muscles clenching greedily around the welcome intrusion. She rocked against your hand, fucking herself on your fingers as you pumped them in and out at an increasing pace. Her juices coated your palm.

Nesta's entire world narrowed down to the feeling of your fingers moving within her. Every thrust sent sparks shooting up her spine, igniting a cold fire in her core. She moaned into your mouth, her tongue tangling with yours in a desperate dance. She needed more, and craved the sensation of being completely consumed by this lustful encounter.

Breaking the kiss, she buried her face in the crook of your neck, biting down gently on the soft flesh there. "Don't stop," she pleaded, her voice laced with raw desire. Her walls clenched rhythmically around your probing digits, her orgasm building rapidly.

You slowed your hand a little, "Beg like a good girl, Nes." You groaned in the kiss.

Nesta's breath hitched at your command, a fresh wave of arousal washing over her. "Please, don't stop," she repeated, her voice quivering with need. She pressed herself harder against your hand, seeking friction where she desperately needed it. The slow rhythm of your fingers drove her mad, teasing her mercilessly towards release.

Her body trembled uncontrollably, her climax looming just beyond her grasp. She whimpered again, nipping at your skin in desperation. "Fuck, I'm so close," she whispered hoarsely, her nails digging into your shoulders.

"I know you are," You muse, watching the way Nesta's eyes rolled back, her thighs twitching around you, "You wanna cum all over my fingers, pretty girl?"

Nesta let out a strangled cry, her body arching off the shelves as your words pushed her over the edge. "Yes!" she screamed, her cunt clamping down hard around your fingers as she came undone. Waves of intense pleasure crashed over her, making her shake and shudder in your arms. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, overwhelmed by the sheer force of her orgasm.

As the last aftershocks subsided, she slumped against you, her limbs heavy and satiated. She gazed up at you with hooded eyes, a lazy smile playing on her lips. "That was… incredible," she murmured, her voice thick with satisfaction.

You smiled, cleaning her with a wave of your hand, "You're welcome, sweetness." You purr, licking your fingers clean of her release

Nesta watched, mesmerized, as you licked your fingers clean of her release. The sight alone was enough to send another ripple of pleasure coursing through her. You reached out tentatively, your fingertips grazing her cheek in a tender gesture, so different from how she had been finger-fucked by you.

"You're something else," She whispered, her voice filled with awe and admiration. A new hunger sparked within her, one that wasn't quenched yet. She wanted more, more of you, more of this intensity, more of everything that came with this.

"I know," You looked up when the bell rang again to tell someone else had entered, you kiss Nesta's head, "I owe you dinner now, meet me back here at 7 bells." With that, you left her to collect herself.

Nesta stood there, stunned, as you walked away. She felt empty without your presence, the lingering sensations of your touch fading quickly. But she knew she wouldn't forget this moment, nor would she forget the promise of more. Dinner, she'd never been more intrigued by a meal in her life.

{General Taglist- @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot @dee-writes-smut @adalia-jaycee @anarchiii @alwayshave-faith @minnieoo @velarisnightsky444}

[accirax]

Chessgram Theory: Who is Kotoko Breaking?

While the object Kotoko is breaking in Deep Cover’s thumbnail is still certainly up for debate, many people (including myself) are of the belief that she’s snapped a white bishop from the game of chess. Given where Kotoko’s mental state is right now and what’s implied by the lyrics of Deep Cover, I think it’s likely that this MV’s theme will depict all of the prisoners as different chess pieces. Therefore, it’s worth asking: who is that? And, in a larger sense, which prisoners could be represented by which chess pieces?

Kotoko pretty clearly sees her situation as her and Es against the rest of the prison. So, I think that the characters would be divided as Kotoko and Es on one team, and everyone from 01-09 on the other. Kotoko is wearing black and appears to be breaking a white piece, so it’s pretty safe to assume that she and Es would be represented by the black pieces. It’s an interesting choice, given that, even to a non-Western audience, black can be considered a color of evil, and white a color of purity and truth. However, if the Es/Kotoko team is “mystery and anger” and the 01-09 team is “cold demeanors and death,” it fits well enough.

And that’s ignoring the most important part: in chess, the white team always moves first. This would fit with Kotoko’s vigilante worldview that everything she does is just a retaliation against others’ wrongdoing. The other characters attack first by sinning, and Kotoko is only picking them off before they can do any real damage to Team Warden.

Anyways, as for the pieces themselves, different websites seem to have slightly different opinions on what each piece can represent, with some obvious throughlines. I’ll be pulling quotes from these three articles, color coded according to which one is being used, which you can read more of if you wish. I’m also not a chess expert, so if I’m missing anything or got something wrong, I encourage you to add any of your own thoughts!

We’ll start with the Black Team, because there are fewer characters and I think it’s pretty obvious who’s who.

Kotoko Yuzuriha

Kotoko herself will probably be the black Queen. As anyone who’s played chess should know, your Queen is the most powerful piece in your arsenal because it can move on straights or diagonals for any distance.

The queen is our impulse to fight and possibly our id. It can argue based on beliefs. It can let loose and fight like a rook. It has no reason to hold back as a knight does and will often attack to the other side of the board just because it wants to.

This hyper-violent description of the Queen reminds me a lot of Kotoko. She attacks the other prisoners because, according to her beliefs, they’re criminals who deserve to be punished. Not to mention, the “id” is actually the same thing as the “es” in psychology. After we voted her innocent in the first trial, Kotoko became our teammate. She thinks that she’s the same as Es, so seeing herself as the “id” would fit perfectly with that self-assessment. Speaking of Es…

Es (and Jackalope?)

Es is most likely going to be the black King.

The king is not as powerful as the queen, but he is considered the most important piece that needs the most protection.

Even if Kotoko has more power than Es inside the prison, Es is still the one ultimately calling the shots. They’re the important piece who actually casts the votes that Kotoko can use to exact justice. The way that Es falls asleep between trials (or, at least, they did the first time) also reminds me of how the king can only move one space per turn, and often remains in the same square until closer to the end of the game.

The meaning of the Queen in the game of chess is she is plainly the closest support to the King and is often the second biggest (tallest) piece on the board, signifying her power and importance.

Es and Kotoko being the King and Queen together also opens them up to being assessed as a pair. They start the game next to each other, far across the board from the white pieces. If Es is the tallest, most notable piece in the prison, Kotoko isn’t far behind, acting as the King’s loyal fang.

I don’t know if any of the other pieces on the black team would have any sort of particular association. Maybe Jackalope could be the pawn that starts in front of the King (I think that’s the E pawn), so that he could hop out of the way on black’s first move to allow Kotoko to escape on a diagonal?

If I’m right about this theming, I also believe it’s possible that the black team would start only with the King and Queen. This would 1) make Kotoko and Es appear as rootable underdogs by having fewer pieces, 2) show how Kotoko is doing all of the work to defend justice, and 3) give Kotoko a lot of space to move around in from the start.

Now that we’re done with the black team, it’s time for the 01-09 White Team! Given that this side has many more main characters, there are several more possibilities to discuss here. I’ve settled on an answer for each of the prisoners, but there’s certainly room to be flexible with any of them.

Haruka Sakurai

Starting with Haruka… sorry, buddy, but I think you’re a Pawn.

Look, there are only eight pieces (not pawns) for each team on the board. If there are nine prisoners on the white team, at least one of them has to be a Pawn. And, especially through Kotoko’s account of the first Trial, Haruka wasn’t doing a whole lot. He didn’t get voted guilty, so she didn’t attack him, and he didn’t try to save any of the attacked prisoners, either. All he really did was get a new fit and align himself with Mu, someone who barely avoided being voted guilty in the first place.

There is a debate about whether the pawns are the peasants who live outside of the castle walls or are the soldiers protecting the royal court behind them.

Specifically, though, I think that Haruka would be the pawn that stands in front of Mu. Depending on which piece Mu is, it doesn’t have to work like this, but if you say that Pawn Haruka’s placement is basically a “if you want to attack her, you’ll have to get through me first,” that’s quite reminiscent of the threat he presented in his second audio drama.

Haruka also makes sense as a Pawn because he has a lot of potential. For anyone who doesn’t know, in chess, if a Pawn manages to make it to the other side of the board, they can transform into any other piece. Haruka’s quiet demeanor might let him slip under the radar, but if Kotoko takes her eye off of him for too long, he could wind up becoming a threat to the King (Es).

Haruka (VD2): “If you don’t forgive Mu-san, I’m going to kill you.”

In the audio drama, Es counters this plan by pointing out that, as a prisoner, Haruka cannot attack them. However, the sentiment is still there. Even if a Pawn doesn’t really stand a chance of attacking the King when Queen Kotoko is on the loose, there’s always the possibility that he could get too close and throw a wrench into Kotoko’s plans.

Yuno Kashiki

As for Yuno… well, we all know that she’s a Queen in general, but in chess, I don’t think that argument really holds up. Yuno really just isn’t… relevant? enough? to the conflicts of the prison as a whole (at least where Kotoko is involved) to be represented by such an important piece. But, if Yuno isn’t the Queen, what would she be…?

Personally, I think she would be a Rook.

The rook is brute force. It is a disregard to beliefs.

Simply put, Yuno is a Rook because she’s a pretty straightforward person. That’s not to say that she doesn’t lie, of course– her whole t1 attitude seems to have been a bit of an act, and that one section in the middle of Tear Drop makes it pretty obvious that Yuno conceals her true feelings on order to better please her customers sometimes– but that, in the end, Yuno always does what she wants. If she wants to barge forward or cut across the entire board sideways, she’ll do it. She often keeps to herself, just like how enemy pieces wouldn’t want to get directly in front of the Rook for fear of being curb stomped.

Back to her t1 attitude, though…

The rook is the castle, the walls, the protectorate of the city, and in being so, is the only piece not representative of a living thing.

While most sources attribute the Rook’s walls to protecting the other important pieces, Yuno’s walls protect herself. Yuno’s Castle keeps her true self locked behind cold and stony walls, giving her freedom from making any attachments.

Futa Kajiyama

Futa is a Knight because… he’s, uh, literally a knight.

The knight pieces are the protective knights in the castle. The pieces are shaped like a horse because it is symbolic of what knights rode during battle.

It doesn’t always have to be that deep. (/j)

Actually, though, there are other reasons to call Futa the Knight– possibly some of the same reasons why the Milgram creative team decided to make one of his MVs themed after fantasy RPGs in the first place.

The knight represents the pure inner-warrior. If a knight starts out passive, it will always end up aggressive and vice versa. It can't move very far, but it never moves in a straight line, always preferring to be tactical and thoughtful.

Futa definitely seems to cycle between aggressive and passive. He passively lived his life as a regular guy until he unleashed his aggression and became a cyberbully. That aggression fueled him until he learned of his victim’s death, at which point he shut down and seemed to become more passive and introspective again. Arriving in Milgram triggered his aggressive tendencies, but getting voted guilty and losing an eye for it triggered his passive terror. At the time of his second audio drama, it seems like he’s returned to aggressively questioning Es again, and it remains to be seen whether he keeps that attitude into t3 or if something happens that once again makes him lose his footing (or die).

Mu Kusunoki

Much like Yuno, Mu also has an argument for being called the Queen– more so than Yuno, considering her strong Queen Bee coding in It’s Not My Fault and the titles of both of her audio dramas– but also falls short in the “being opposed to Kotoko” department. Although Haruka certainly looks to her for leadership, I can’t imagine Kotoko actually considering Mu a serious enough threat to put Mu on the same level as herself.

So again, like Yuno, I think Mu might be the other Rook. Mu also displayed a very “whatever I say goes” attitude in INMF, so she can share the same rhetoric behind Yuno being represented by that piece. The logic behind the castle aspect is slightly different, though.

Every country or medieval estate would have its royalty who were protected within the walled city or castle.

Mu is a rich, half-European girl whose dad sells real estate. Of course she would be represented by the Castle! Mu’s tactics involve consolidating her power in order to lead from a place above it all, exactly like how a castle looks over the rest of the village. Additionally, I can’t find the source of whoever pointed it out first, but I���ve seen it mentioned that the dress Mu wears in her birthday art is a reference to the one that Belle wears in Disney’s interpretation of Beauty and the Beast. It’s a fairytale with a princess (and perhaps someday, a queen), yes, but it’s specifically one where the heroine is trapped within a castle. Making Mu into a Rook would be a great way to keep up her royal theming, while leaving the Queen for a character a bit more powerful and relevant to Kotoko.

(Going back to Haruka for a moment, this would make him specifically the A or H pawn.)

Shidou Kirisaki

I really thought that Shidou might have more competition for the role of King, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that nobody fit the role quite as well as he did.

Shidou is the perfect balance of a piece who’s very problematic for Kotoko’s win condition, while also not being much of an active threat himself. There are very low odds that Shidou would ever actually try to harm Kotoko directly or get in her way to divert an attack. However, as long as he’s alive, Kotoko can’t win, because Shidou can keep attempting to heal all of the pieces Kotoko tries to eliminate. That’s not something that the King piece can actually do in a chess game, but hopefully you get my point.

Additionally, Triage let us know that Shidou is a family man. While the white Queen will obviously not be representative of Shidou’s deceased wife, and not every other prisoner would enjoy living under his reign (cough cough Amane), the optics of him being the “head of the family” are obviously there. It’s a pretty bad look if the white King starts the game by pleading with the black King to give him the death penalty, but… Well, at least Shidou changed his mind.

Mahiru Shiina

Not to answer the theory’s main question so early into the post, but… I think Mahiru is a white Bishop. Specifically, the one that Kotoko could be snapping in half in the thumbnail.

As far as I can remember, barring Undercover, Milgram’s MVs have only shown us things that have happened in the past. There are some things that could kind of hint at the future (like Shidou’s “So hey, prolong my life / I’m indispensable” in Triage) or depict prisoner’s fears of the future (like Futa potentially being afraid that Es could declare him guilty again at the end of Backdraft). But, I think that every instance of something like that happening could be explained as something that the character did or thought about in the past as well. That might be wrong, as I don’t want to take the time to write out how everything that appears like it could be in the future is actually in the past, but it sounds right to my memory.

My point being, while the snapped bishop could be indicative of Kotoko’s plans to crush someone in the future, if the chess pieces do represent characters, it makes far more sense if her smashing the white bishop is something that already happened in the past. Thus, it would probably be one of the three characters that Kotoko attacked in the past: Futa, Mahiru, or Mikoto.

Of the three options, I think Mahiru fits the role of bishop best.

The bishop is your belief structure. This is why a bishop that starts on white, will always be on white and vice versa for the black bishop.

While not a particularly religious person, Mahiru is someone who lives and dies based on her beliefs about the value of love. No matter what happens to her, she always keeps her same perspective, believing that love is the entirety of who she is and the only thing that’s worth living for. It’s how firmly she clung to those beliefs that sent her to Milgram, and her lack of awareness regarding her actions that got her voted guilty. AKA, Mahiru’s Bishop-like beliefs are exactly what sent her to be crushed in Kotoko’s palm.

To the extent that the blood in the thumbnail is the Bishop’s and not Kotoko’s, Mahiru was also the most grievously injured of the prisoners in between trials. I saw people joking that the thing Kotoko was crushing was “Mahiru’s bones,” and, like… maybe you’re not entirely wrong? 

I hope that you continue reading the post to hear my thoughts on the last three prisoners. But, if you are tapping out here… uhhhh, 0610 enjoyers, go crazy with this one.

Kazui Mukuhara

When I started theorizing for this post, I really thought that I was going to make Kazui the Queen to Shidou’s King. The two of them are pretty close, so the idea of Kazui being Shidou’s guardian makes total sense. And, most importantly, Kazui was the one to actually intercept and divert Kotoko’s attack on Futa. He’s been established as the most muscular prisoner in Milgram, on par with someone like Kotoko, which is perfect for him being the Queen!

Wellllll… I changed my mind and decided to make Kazui a Knight anyway.

There are a lot of good arguments for Kazui being a knight too, okay? After Cat, it’s pretty clear that Kazui was once a police officer. Thus, being a member of the castle guard would be a good match for his choice of career. They’re also probably the most traditionally “manly” piece, representative of an armed man on a horse, and Kazui tries very hard to be manly.

Knights can also hop over other pieces, much like how Kazui jumped into the fight between Kotoko and Futa. In fact…

Never underestimate [the Knight] for its limited range. It’s known as the "Queen Killer" for a reason!

Knights are often a good piece to use to attack Queens because of their unique L-shaped movement pattern. Unlike every other piece, they can attack the Queen from a position that can’t be immediately reversed upon them. Thus, Kazui’s ability to beat Kotoko could be an indicator of this “Queen Killer” quality, instead of the innate power of being a Queen himself. (This logic applies to Futa as well: he can attack Kotoko from the unique angle of appealing to Es’ morals and own sense of justice. Kotoko can’t do the same because, unlike Futa, she has yet to outwardly acknowledge that her murder could have been anything less than righteous.)

Also… the Knight is the only piece that doesn’t move in a straight line. Get it? The Knight doesn’t move straight? And that represents Kazui? Because Kazui is–

Amane Momose

Amane is the other Bishop because… religion.

The bishop stands close to the king and queen because it represents the church which many royal courts held near and dear to their hearts.

The Bishop represents the church, an important and very powerful entity throughout history and even today if you think about it.

Again, not everything has to be a reach. (/j)

So… yeah, Amane’s beliefs– specifically religious beliefs, this time– are also a huge part of her life. Even if she’s changed what the cult’s doctrine means to her, she still confesses that she carried out her murders for the sake of what her religion considers right and wrong.

This is also considered the third most powerful piece on the chessboard because back in the day religion could influence many people, even without the help of the royal family.

Not so much for Mahiru, but this sentiment also fits Amane pretty well! Between the threats of potential conversions and potential assassinations, Amane was definitely one of the prisoners to watch heading into t2. From what I’ve heard, the main reason why her vote was so down to the wire was mostly because people were afraid of the power that Amane held.

Interestingly, this would put another prisoner who was voted guilty in contention for the piece that Kotoko is crushing. However, I still think it’s more likely that that piece would be Mahiru, because Kotoko didn’t physically attack Amane. If it were Amane, it would more likely be that her beliefs were crushed as opposed to her bones, but… I don’t really think that really happened, either. Amane would almost certainly be a bishop, though, so there’s certainly a possibility that that broken piece could be her.

Mikoto/John Kayano

With only one prisoner left to go, you may have already come to the conclusion that Mikoto is the white Queen. And… yeah, I can’t really deny that at this point. Like I said, I wanted to make Kazui the Queen, but I couldn’t otherwise figure out what Mikoto would be.

Because, there’s one main thing that makes me think that Mikoto has to be the Queen… John’s lack of restraints.

She is allowed to move in any direction and in as many squares as she wants.

Due to the whole situation with John not technically being a prisoner, when John is the alter in charge, John cannot be restrained, even when voted guilty. That makes him very powerful; no matter what he does, we can’t use a guilty vote to try to stop him, much like many people hoped to do with Haruka when voting him guilty in t2. The Queen can visit any square, no matter whether it’s black or white, upright or reversed, Mikoto or John. Choosing any other piece that was constrained to a much more limited set of movement rules just felt off for him.

Next, while Kazui was able to defeat Kotoko and save Futa, the fight between John and Kotoko was a draw. That means that they are also evenly matched– perfect for both being the same kind of piece. Mikoto isn’t as close to Shidou as Kazui is (anymore, I think?), but they were at least smoking club buddies, so calling Mikoto the Queen to Shidou’s King isn’t the most ridiculous proposition.

Finally, making Mikoto the Queen, a very feminine piece, is super interesting in the context of people discussing how Mikoto is often associated with stereotypically feminine roles and the girl prisoners (oboetemasuka | candckirby | purgemarchlockdown). I don’t have a whole lot else to say on this matter considering these weren’t points of Mikoto’s characterization I originally noticed myself, but I encourage you to read these posts to get a taste of what I’m talking about. I’m sure there were other posts discussing it too, but… it’s so hard to find things on Tumblr ;-;

Conclusion

Finally, we’ve been through every prisoner! Here’s a summary of what I decided on (left or right side doesn’t matter):

The funny thing about this theory is that it could be fully disproven wrong in, like, a week, if either 1) that wasn’t a chess piece at all, or 2) the chess pieces obviously represent something else. For instance, the chess board could fully relate to, you know, Kotoko’s actual murder and not what she got up to in between trials. We are supposed to get more actual evidence regarding that too, aren’t we…?

Still, if it turns out that the chess board does represent Milgram, I will get the full satisfaction of having called it ahead of time, even if my assignments aren’t 100% correct. No matter what, I had fun thinking about it, which is (in my opinion) the highlight of theorizing! If you have anything else to add, I encourage you to communicate your thoughts in comments, tags, or reblogs. If you don’t, then I simply thank you for reading this far!

Deep Cover… soon.

[foreverisntenough]

- YOU’RE MINE -

Summary: While you daydreamed about his face an ocean apart, he had no idea what yours was about to do to him. With a twist of fate and the heat of summer, a new relationship would completely ransack his heart - Everyday heavy with the thought of one another, neither of you were going to let the unexpected love of your life go. You were going to be his, you were his, and you were going to stay his.

Warnings: This story will contain fluff, suggestion, smut and angst- not sure what else yet! Some love bombing but we love a needy Trent

Note: I was planning on keeping this just for myself so please be nice. I hope you like it! There will definitely be more parts (don’t know how many just yet though.)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Chapter 4 - ‘You’re Mine’

The group had finally made their way out of the penthouse, slightly more drunk than when they walked in.

“Should I get the Uber?” Someone asked in the lift.

“To… Tao? That’s embarrassing. Don’t do that. It’ll take us longer in a car than to walk.” You were strong in your words. No one including Trent had heard you deliver your words with such certainty and definitely not with a flare of aggression.

“Alright New York, relax we’ll walk” one of the boys quipped.

“Clever” you spit back grinning. Trent took your hand now going through the lobby. He was happy to have you still with him and he liked how comfortable you had gotten with the group. Ever in charge, you watched Tyler pull up maps on his phone to be sure you were headed in the right direction but you reached over and clicked his phone off.

“It’s on this street.. come on now” you rolled your eyes teasing. Tyler was amused as you and he had quickly developed a bit of banter after he teased you earlier. Trent watched you walk slightly in front of him dragging his hand behind you. He was stopping himself from drooling at your newly debuted confidence.

Tyler handled the group's arrival at the club. To be honest, as annoying as it probably was to everyone else, you were completely enraptured in whatever Trent was talking about to know what else was going on. Your hands scratched at his bare back under his shirt as he spoke to his friends. You wanted more of him. You were getting to the point of distress from his teasing. He placed slow soft kisses on your neck and they felt like catnip. You could feel your pussy tighten at the thought of him.

You all were let into the club, no IDs checked or anything. You had had tables at clubs before but you weren’t a big fan of the whole experience although you went anyway but this… this wasn't so bad.

It was weird to watch people point or take photos of Trent. He was in New York lending him some anonymity but it wasn’t enough. Once people got wind that ‘someone’ in our section was a big deal, people flocked. Trent didn’t pay any attention to it. You felt a million eyes on you but he didn’t seem to bat an eye. He was never rude if someone had caught him and asked for a picture but he was more reserved in this environment; sat far back in the area whispering only to you. He didn’t really look away from you either. His hands stoking the inside of your thigh. It was driving you crazy. You had to get up. It was starting to push you to the edge.

“Okay?” Trent pulled at your arm as you went to grab a drink from the table to distance yourself.

“I’m getting a little…” you paused not sure how much you should disclose or if he was even interested to know.

“Come on, give me a little something” he pushed. You said fuck it but still couldn’t make eye contact with him embarrassed as you whispered to him.

“Honestly” you sighed in frustration and desperation “really horny Trent” he blinked in surprise. His hand on your leg was torture, seeing the fingers of his hand so close, but so far away. You were not happy with the thought of rubbing your own pussy, you needed Trent, not just anyone, Trent, to eat you out, stretch you out, and play with your tits. You wanted him. You pulled the drink you had just grabbed to your lips trying to pretend you didn’t just admit that to him.

“You wanna go?” He meant it but you couldn’t do that to him and definitely not in front of his friends you didn’t know. You shook your head ‘no’ and Trent leaned in with a questioning hum to see if you were sure.

“No, no. I’m all good but just so you know” you smiled, pressing a kiss into his neck.

“It’s definitely noted,” he smiled at you. He pulled you into him as he stood behind you. You two were inseparable. You wanted his commentary constantly being fed into your ear. You wanted his hands to never leave you. You had drank more than you probably should by this point but kind of lost track because you were ‘keeping up’ with the boys forgetting you weighed half what they did and hadn’t drank like this in a while.

“You’re so beautiful baby” Trent cooed in your ear

“Do you actually mean that?” You looked back directly in his eyes.

“Yeah, wouldn’t just throw it out for the hell of it” you looked back at him unsatisfied wanting to really ask him about his apparent changed stance on pda with you.

“Baby, give me a kiss please” he begged with pooling puppy dog eyes. It was the first time he pulled them out of his arsenal against you. You’d seen pictures of his eyes but up close in person it felt devious. He knew. He knew he could get away with so much and so so so much particularly with you. You caved in seconds.

You were soon moaning his name into his mouth as you kissed him pulling away biting and dragging his bottom lip with you. You held it and he grabbed onto your ass a little firmer. You leaned into him, pressing your body up to his. He could feel your nipples hard through your thin top against him. He managed to sneak his hand down towards your core. He brushed over your pussy covered by your shorts and a thong you were dying for him to rip off you. It was unfair but particularly so given your recent admission.

“You’re being mean” you said to him in a unamused tone. He shrugged slyly. The night kept going and you kept drinking until Trent gave you a water

“You look thirsty baby” opening a bottle and handing it to you.

“I am for you” you winced at the line but it came out quick. You were drunkenly reaching into the waistband of his trousers trying to get him on your page. He blew air out of his mouth to compose himself trying to ignore the advances. One of Trent’s friends winked at him and shook his head amused at the obviousness of your actions toward Trent. Getting more and more impatient, you moved to be directly in front but turned to face away from him. You grinded your hips back into him, your ass pushing against his cock. You leaned your back against his chest and tilted your head all the way back. He knew you were gonna say something so he leaned his head down.

“Can you fuck me tonight…please?” it was dripping with desperation but there was something endearing about your tone, the way your lips pouted at him, the look in your eyes almost tearful. You were starting to feel like maybe he was done and you weren’t going to get any. Trent wanted to do anything to stop the look coming over you, the feelings of worry crashing over you. He could tell you genuinely started to be hurt by the wait.

“Get your things now baby” he couldn’t say no to you. He wasn’t going to say no to you ever. Trent clocked a look at Tyler, pointing at you, back to himself, then the door. Tyler nodded in understanding. You walked past a few of the boys to get your purse. You didn’t really want to say bye as it was a little blatant what was happening.

Suddenly Tyler grabbed your arm making you jump. He leaned into you so you could hear him amongst the loud music.

“Hey, you’re all good to go with him right? Like you want to? You’re fine?” He looked at you seriously like a parent would but the topic was far from a conversation you’d have with one. Your face pulling into a grin.

“Yeah, no seriously I want to go…I’m good” you couldn’t believe he cared enough to have stopped the whole train should something have been wrong. To be real it was probably more for the protection of Trent. Tyler ran a lot of stuff in his camp and definitely didn’t want to have to handle some sort of sex scandal abroad but he also gave you a squint that felt like he wanted you to be okay too. “Thank you really.”

“Yeah, all good. See you… uh later” he struggled to find the right words to wrap this up given it was a little awkward knowing exactly what you were leaving for.

You slipped back through people lacing your fingers with Trent’s as a security guard walked in front of him and you both out onto the street.

“Thanks mate” Trent nodded at the man once you were clear. Despite your drunk state, it wasn’t lost on you how crazy his life was in public and yet he was able to manage a sneaky date with you earlier. You pieced together that his image online was completely woven by him. It was him, it wasn’t a lie but he withheld so much and you needed to know all of it.

You were back in the lift of his hotel fast, his hands all over you. Yours grabbed at his face as you messily made out. You were praying he was going to give you what you wanted. You were lost in your growing feelings for him momentarily, you actually could just cuddle him and settle knowing no one else was in his bed tonight but were thrusted back into your desires when his hand grabbed onto you a little tighter. You were still adamant to get exactly what you had wanted.

The lift door slid open and he gestured for you to step out first. You giggled now your drunken state had lulled into a fun buzz. He seemed completely fine but you also credited that to being his personality. Just cool personified.

“After you baby” he said, opening the door to his room. You walked up to him but didn’t go through, you just latched onto him there in the framework. He laughed at your eagerness.

“Come on, I want you in here” you hummed at his words in excitement as he took his sneakers off. You didn’t wait for him. You needed to start this now. You walked towards the bathroom leaving the door open then Trent heard the shower turn on. He was intrigued by the move and definitely not complaining if he was going to be included. He walked into the bathroom. The tile cold beneath him. You were stood bent, leaning over onto the marble counter. Your back arched, your weight on your elbows wearing your white shirt and now just a lace black thong that was impossibly small. He came up next to you groaning at the picture in front of him. Sure, your outfit tonight left little to the imagination but he wanted you completely naked just for him. He reached and pulled on the band of your thong, snapping it back on your waist. There was something aggressive about his action that made you even weaker for him. You turned towards him and looked at him begging with your eyes. He pulled his shirt over his head and your mouth watered seeing him. He got closer to you.

“Need something?” you paused breath hitching at his physique and words.

“Do you?” You wanted to get him to say he wanted you. The yeah rolled off his tongue and onto yours as you started kissing again. He pushed you to step back. Pressing you against the wall. You maneuvered your hands to the hem of your own top pulling it over your head, your boobs bouncing out. You were close to how he wanted to see you. You pulled at the band of his trousers. He obliged happily.

“I don’t want to interrupt your shower” he was starting to bother you a little with his game so you pushed your hand against his chest. He was taken aback by the abruptness.

“Trent… please. Oh my god, please I can’t anymore. I need you” you begged. If things were different you would’ve been absolutely mortified at your words.

“I’m going to take care of you baby. I want you so bad” your jaw slacked a little at his confession.

“I genuinely thought you maybe weren’t interested. I didn’t know what you wanted anymore.” Trent laughed pushing back into your body. He reached around you into the shower and turned the water off. You looked at him quizzically.

“Not now. Later” he said with sincerity. He wasnt going to fuck you for the first time fast and hard in the shower. He cared too much “I want to take my time on you. Fuck. I need you now y/n.” He pulled you up to him. His warm hands had now fully grabbed your hips, pulling you to wrap your legs around his waist, his hands moved to cup your ass and pull you flush against his body. You could feel his crotch pressing against yours and when you felt how hard he was, you blushed.

He placed you down on the bed and looked at you laying like an angel. There was something so pure and precious about you but he knew, he could just feel if you were comfortable enough you’d be dirty for him.

“Can I take these off?” He didn’t falter. You nodded, lifting your hips easily. Trent painstakingly dragged the material down your legs and off of your body. He then moved slowly back up and over you. You whimpered as you felt his lips come around your nipples. He sucked on the left one, brushing his warm tongue left and right before tugging on it with his teeth. The level of arousement in you was getting higher and higher and the familiar knot forming at the pit of your stomach was starting to form.

“You’re so incredibly beautiful, y/n” he whispered and the honesty in the tone of his voice had you blushing even more.

“You don’t have to do that” you looked at him almost annoyed.

“Do what?” he questioned back.

“Lie” there you said it. “I’m still going to have sex with you” he pulled back after hearing your words.

“That’s not what…Baby I’m not lying.. why would I even.” He stopped and just stared looking confused.

“Is this like a game to you? Your thoughts drunkenly started to spill “Like can you tell I’m a bit broken so you’re getting off on making me act like a fool?” your words stung. He felt so vulnerable in front of you now. Where did this come from? Seconds ago you were begging for him and now you were suddenly upset he called you beautiful, accusing him of playing a game. Trent's eyes narrowed.

He needed to stop this because of a number of things 1. He promised he’d take care of you, he wanted your pussy. 2. You were his in his mind now and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let you speak like this 3. It broke his heart a little bit that his genuine feelings didn’t seem to be enough for you. It was a wish wash of emotions he didn’t really want to process but for whatever reason you provoked it out of him. He wanted to be honest with you.

“Y/N” he looked at you grabbing your attention. “I want to be yours, I want you to be mine. You are mine. I am going to take care of you. There’s something about you that’s magnetic. I need to be near you. This isn’t a joke or some sort of mean spirited ploy for sex. I really like you. I’m never like this. I’ve never called someone baby in my life. You just are, I don't know… I never even wanted to look at girls in the eye if we were messing around. I felt too guilty knowing I didn’t feel anything. Yet there you are fully clothed in the middle of the street and I can’t look away. I was ready to get on my knees and beg. I don’t know what the fuck you do or did to me but please. I want to be with you right now. You’re not broken, you are not a fool. I’m trying here. Honestly I’m being truthful. I think you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. I’m embarrassingly obsessed… that’s being a fool. Let me like you, let me… let me make you cum” he said this as he looked back down at your naked body below him getting distracted.

“God, please” he moaned. This wasn’t even directed at you, he just wanted some higher power to let him have you. You didn’t smile at him. Tears fell over your waterline. Your heart broke at the rant. He looked panicked. He looked distraught over how he felt. You wiped at your face before he took over slowly catching any tears.

“I didn’t really anticipate making you cry in bed. Not this way at least” you slapped at him gently, a smile starting to form. “Please” he softly begged you. You nodded wholeheartedly.

Trent kissed over your whole body. Slow, dedicated, but also almost harsh. What he left behind were the signs of him, red marks and shiny spots caused by his warm spit. He could have covered your whole body and you would’ve let him. That man could have done anything, whatever crossed his mind to your body. He could’ve been an ass after your comments and you still would’ve let him embarrassingly but he was never mean to you.

He tugged at your lower lip with his teeth. Your pussy pulsing, focused on Trent’s fingers that were now tracing the inside of your thighs, threatening to come up to where you needed him most. He moved back. He tried to linger but he caved quickly at the sight of your pussy. His name fell from your lips in a hoarse moan the moment you felt his fingers running through your wet folds. With his fingers between your legs now, you were practically dripping for him.

“Fuck, you’re so wet baby “ Trent groaned. “All for me? Hm?” Trent wanted to focus on you but groaned a little more as his fingers felt your juices. Your wetness was evident to his touch and he couldn’t help but be satisfied with it. Trent gave a quick stroke to your clit before taking his hand away to bring his fingers to his mouth. “Fuck baby, I need you now. You taste so fucking good for me”

He stared at you pressing his nose to your cheek before moving his lips to yours. The kiss was hot and heavy, his tongue immediately invading your mouth and toying with yours. He slipped his hand back down your body returning to your pussy. His fingers worked away between your legs. With his middle finger, he continued to stroke through your folds, making the base of your spine tingle, but when his thumb started to draw precise circles on your clit, your body shook slightly as a deep moan got lost in his mouth

“Baby. that’s…fuck..that’s so good.” Your eyes were tearing back up. His dick twitched at your breathy moans and whimpers and whilst at this point, he couldn’t wait to feel more of you but desperately wanted to feel you falling apart on his fingers first.

“You close baby? Hm?” When he dipped another finger into your wet heat, he pulled another deep moan from you and in an attempt to push you closer to the edge, he curled his fingers even further against that one spot and pressed his thumb into your clit harder.

“Gonna be my good girl again? Cum on my fingers” Trent was taking mental notes for the night ahead of you. He didn’t miss the way your walls squeezed around his fingers that little bit more when he called you his good girl.

“Please keep going, Trent I’m so close, I’m-fuck.” With a few more curses and his name continuously falling from your lips, you came around his fingers. White hot liquid shooting through your veins, your body shuddered before you eventually collapsed back into the bed. He gradually slowed the movements of his fingers until he pulled them out completely. You sighed at the relief of your orgasm but also at the loss of contact. You pulled at Trent’s arms to kiss you only for him to shudder when your hand wrapped around his painfully hard dick. Watching you cum had made him even harder and he couldn’t wait to have you and watch you fall apart on his cock.

He rolled you over to be on top of him. You straddled his waist, seating your wet core on his thigh first. He groaned at the feeling. The feeling was overwhelming, Trent shut his eyes and rocked up against you, delirious with the friction.

“Condom?” He asked a little late, trying not to choke on his breath with the head of his cock so close to the entrance of your pussy. You shook your head no. He was surprised and he didn’t want to push back. With one hand on his shoulder, you pushed yourself up onto your knees and lined his dick up with your entrance, sinking down slowly.

His size stretched you deliciously and the slight burning only added to the pleasure running through your veins. He was so big, you could feel him in your stomach once you were fully seated and you actually needed a moment to adjust.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.”, Trent moaned as he dropped his forehead to your chest, trying to avoid cumming on the spot “Squeezing me so tightly, baby. Feels so good.” You slowly began to roll your hips at a slow pace.

“You’re such a good girl, baby. Taking me so well. You’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, baby.” you whimpered, squeezing tightly around his cock at the same time. Your high was approaching pathetically quickly because he seemed to know how to hit all of your right spots. “Fuck, you’re so good.”

It wasn’t long until you were nearly there, and the moment Trent attached his thumb to your clit again and rubbed it in quick circles, you fell apart on top of him, curse words and his name falling from your lips repeatedly.

You were still whining a little while Trent laughed a little, happy he held up his side of the bargain resting his forehead against yours.

“I know baby, I know. I know exactly what you need. I told you I was going to take care of you. Take care of whatever you need wherever you are; in bed and outside of it. I know how to baby. I promise I’ll give you everything but I need to hear you say you’re mine. Need to hear you tell me what I want to hear beautiful.”

You could only manage another whine, too focused on the slow drag of his cock, you could feel every hard vein and ridge of it slowly fucking into you. Trent shook his head at your broken noises.

“I know it feels good, baby, but you can do it. Use your words.”

“I’m yours.” It came out as a whisper at first, too overwhelmed by the feeling of his cock, the friction of his solid stomach against your clit as he grinded against you slowly.

“You’re mine?” He repeated, not even trying to hide the bit of smugness in his voice. “Yeah, You’re mine? Look at me baby.” Your eyes locked onto his, and he held your gaze “Are you mine?” Trent punctuated his question with a particularly hard thrust. You nodded again.

“Yeah, Trent.” You managed to mutter out when he started to fuck you again. His pace was relentless, his hips unforgiving as he moved, driving his cock in and out of you, consistently hitting a spot so deep inside you.

“Fuck, fuck, oh my- fuck.” he cursed. His fingers dug into your skin and his head fell back, as he pushed his hips up one last time before he spilled into your tight heat. Trent rolled his eyes at the way you gently moved your hips against his to help him ride out his high.

“Oh my god, Y/N.” You didn’t want him to pull out yet. you gripped your fingers on his hair and massaged his scalp, causing Trent to hum in contentment, whilst his hands caressed your back in soothing motions.

Tyler would murder Trent if he told him what just happened. On paper it sounded horrible but Trent couldn’t have been happier than he was right now with you safe in his arms. He closed his eyes imagining the reaction. ‘So she tried to get you to fuck her, then you made her cry, and the came inside of this girl he’d now known for 10 hours unprotected.’ It wasn’t great but he couldn’t stop seeing it as a positive but given the list he needed to make sure you were okay.

“Baby” he whispered to you. He pulled his hand from your back and stoked it through your hair. You moaned a little at the contact. “Okay” he smiled at your state “Happy though? He needed to know. You picked your head off his chest slightly only to kiss back down.

“Very” you muffled into his skin. He was relieved your head hadn’t gone where his went. He kept his hands on your naked body. He looked at you closer thinking about what just happened and he needed more of you.

“Baby” he cooed again. You were more awake now. You slide your hand up and down his chest in response. You felt him twitch a little beneath you. You peeled yourself up his body, lazily and messily making out with him. He held you firmly but gently before pulling away

“You’re mine now” he said, you smiled and looked up at him.

“Any particular reason you’re so set on this?” He was interested that you were interested.

“I told you, I’ve never felt this way about anyone in my life. I don’t want to freak you out but I’m kind of freaking out a little. I don’t know what you do to me. I've never felt more attached or protective over someone, let alone someone I just met.” He couldn’t look at you. He knew he sounded insane.

“I mean you’re absolutely nuts but I’m not mad about it” he smiled a little at your response as you continued talking “I don’t understand why but I also get it. I feel different about this.. us” you questioned and paused. “I don’t even know if that’s even a thing, us, but when we’re next to each other it feels right and I feel safer than I’ve ever felt. I guess I’m beating around the bush that yeah, in some weird backwards way I’m yours T.” You created the initial nickname on the spot and it warmed his heart a little more before he spoke.

“It’s a thing… us” His hands snaking up your back kissing into your neck his teeth grazing and pulling at your most sensitive spot. He got worked up quickly. “You still wet for me?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “You know I could watch you ride me all day, but I'd really want to see you on all fours baby."

Trent tapped at your ass to get your attention, but you didn't open your eyes. He playfully slapped you this time, but you ignored it once more by hugging his shoulders and rolling in his lap. On the third slap, you couldn't compress a moan and a naughty grin that Trent hyper fixated on.

"Are you enjoying this?" You just looked at him confirming what he said without saying a word. His mind was racing at what he was learning about you. You two rustled around in the sheets making out some more. There was no resistance when his bulging cock brushed against the lips of your wet pussy. He moved from under you leaving you on your stomach. He pulled you up to be on your knees. He was eager to touch you. He couldn’t wait. Your body was overcome with the white-hot pleasure of Trents thick cock squeezing into you, squeezing your eyes back shut. Your back was broken in an arch, your mouth opened in a silent cry, and your fingers entangled in the sheets beneath you.

“That’s it baby, that’s a good girl.” He praised thumbs caressing your cheeks as he slowly pulled his hips back, then pushed in again. His abdomen dragged against your clit, and your eyes squeezed shut again.

He shouldn’t tell you but Trent was loving having you like this. Against his better judgment he spoke. “I love it when you cum for me” he said against your back moving his hips so he could fuck you with slow strokes. Trent gripped your ass so he could thrust faster and deeper, enjoying your muffled moans.

"Oh fuck.. Trent..baby." His finger continued circling your clit and you came hard for a second time. You felt your arms weaken, the shiver running up your spine as the sensation took over your body once again. Trent wasn’t far behind his orgasm hitting him and he groaned out loud. His cock pulsed, his come spilling inside of you in thick ropes, he could barely breathe as your pussy squeezed around him more. You both laid completely fucked out.

“Can I say something crazy?” he barely made a sound as he tried talking.

“Because you haven’t yet tonight?” You snapped quickly cuddling your head into him to know your tone was simply a joke. You wanted to hear what he had to say.

“That’s the best sex I’ve ever had…” you picked your head up.

“Come on, don’t say that to me”

“I was trying not to but…” He groaned a little, you felt the rumble in his chest. “I thought it the first time but saying that felt like a lot and then this… it somehow got better. I’m not even joking”

“You need to … I don’t know” you laughed and shook your head. He pushed a sweaty piece of hair on your forehead behind your ear looking at you.

“I need more of you, now, that’s what I need, that’s what I want” you couldn’t believe the way Trent Alexander Arnold had unraveled in front of you. You were in disbelief but you couldn’t look away. He was gorgeous, flushed, chest rising and falling. His hand stoking you. You felt like he really cared but his words of affirmation made you nervous. No one had ever spoke to you like this. Was he serious? You couldn’t know but the sweeping thought that’d he’d be off back to his regular busy life in England felt like someone had punched you in the stomach. You couldn’t let him see your heart break. You felt like he was already bandaging you up; you couldn’t break down more.

“I think we should probably shower, shouldn’t we?” He suggested to you, you nodded softly in agreement. He carefully pulled out of you, but when you moved to sit up, he gently pushed you back down, eyes glued to your pussy, where his load slowly leaked out. Trent took two fingers, gathering and pushing it back into you. Your back arched in response, a small hiss pushed through your clenched teeth.

As soon as you felt his plumpy lips close to your core, you knew it was game over for you all over again. Trent helped himself to have full access to you by opening your folds again with his thumbs. He positioned himself in a more comfortable position and started moving his lips against your pussy. He sucked on your bud and parted your folds with his tongue, the tip frantically teasing your skin down there. It was so fast you almost missed the white wave of pleasure wash over you again. He smiled beneath you, his face slick and shiny with you.

“Alright, let’s shower.” He moved off you and the bed. His arms out to hold you and take you carefully into the bathroom.

“Baby, you’re absolutely perfect, You know that? You know you’re perfect?” he murmured into you. He let his kisses trail all over you happily. You didn’t necessarily believe him but it wasn’t a bad thing to hear from him.

The shower steam filled the bathroom. You lazily clung to him rubbing your hands with soap over his body. He liked your hands on him. There was a physical and emotional feeling of warmth with him. He just wanted to wrap around you keep you with him all the time. He was completely consumed by the thought. You watched him stare blankly. You smiled at his face and traced your finger down his sharp jawline. You were both in a haze so close together. You got through the shower slowly and not without some suggestive touches but you reached around Trent and turned the water off eventually. He didn’t move yet, he just held you close against his chest. The water continued dripping down your bodies. You couldn’t be but you wanted to be closer somehow to him.

You got out of the shower anyway and he wrapped a towel around you draping his arms over you as he stood behind you. He stared at you two in the fogged mirror blissfully.

“You’re so gorgeous” You said tilting your head up at him and scratching at his beard

“Mmmhmm, I know” he said smugly, smiling at you. You rolled your eyes at his remark. He turned you around and sat you on the counter in front of him. He stood between your legs and you slid your hands over and around his waist. He brushed his knuckles over your face. Neither of you said a word just stood in silence ogling at one another. He picked you up and brought you back to the bed. He pulled you onto his chest and tucked the comforter of the big bed over you two. He kissed the top of your head.

“Sure you don’t want me to head home?” He just laughed at your question and held you closer. It was so warm and so comfortable you weren’t exactly itching to get out of there. Your nails dragged over his chest as you continually pressed kisses into his collar bone. Trent’s body calmed and his breathing slowed. You looked up to see his eyes closed. You got up off of him swiftly.

“Aye.. nah what..” he cried out as you were no longer on top of him. You hit the bedroom lights before he could finish his sentence. You smiled at him reassuring you weren't trying to leave crawling across the bed back to him.

“Gimme one more kiss beautiful” he begged, you pulled yourself up wrapping around his neck placing a heavy but soft kiss on his plump lips. You slipped back down to lay your head on his chest again. You could feel him begin to doze off.

“It okay if we sleep a little? I’m sorry baby” he mulled.

“Sorry for sleeping?” You poked fun at him. “I’m okay, really T” you cooed. He didn’t respond, he just held you and drifted off happy to have your body on his. Then you closed your eyes. You were exhausted but the idea that the man under you was Trent, mixed with tequila and multiple orgasms your head began to hurt. You bayed in and out of sleep before you peeled your head off his chest. Holding yourself up on your arms above him you just gawked at his physique. You brushed your finger over his high prominent cheek bone. You didn’t want to wake him but you couldn’t resist touching him either. You sighed that this was all coming to a close in your mind. No matter what he said it wasn’t realistic and you had to prepare yourself for the morning. You wanted to lay back down on top of him but you couldn’t let yourself. You rolled over to his side instead just keeping him close in proximity. He shuffled at the loss of weight atop him. He reached around the bed for you pulling you back into his chest. He wasn’t going to make this easy for you.

•

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. Please let me know what you think.

Next part is up - Chapter 5

[epione-xx]

BABY, PLEASE

WARNING. THIS. IS. A. SMUT!!!! And a fever dream. Idk what was happening when I wrote this but…eh.

CONTAINS: breeding kink, master/pet play, situationship, lingerie + nudes, unsafe sex (plz never do this in real life)

There also could be a pt2 if you guys want 👀

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

‘Lmao no, I’m with a guy’

Damian gripped his phone tightly in his hand and frowned, reading and re-reasing the text again before texting back himself, only using one word.

‘Who?’

And when she didnt reply, he scoffed an threw his phone into his backseat. The crinkle of a bag signalling it had been caught and he hand taking it further than intended.

And then he tapped the wheel impatiently, thinning and thinking and…then finally turning around to grab his phone again to see if she had texted back, and seeing she hadn’t yet, he groaned and leaned back before grabbing the bag of his newly bought ‘essentials’.

Now these essentials weren’t really…well what you think. Instead it was a pack of condoms and other various things that ranged from a box of chocolates to a newly bought phone charger since he had forgotten his own.

He always forgot his charger when going to her house, being fair…most of the times he went there when he was frustrated with his father and then she would…help him through it…

And it started off like that. He had a fight with his father, stormed out and drove off in his car before remembering that he had forgotten any type of protection, which then lead into a trip to the store, which lead to him buying everything he thought was needed before texting his hook up to se did she wanted anything…

And that’s why the dreaded text came. The one that said she was with a guy.

Damian pursed his lips and decided to indulge himself in one of the chocolates he had gotten, unwrapping the shiny blue foil of it before popping it into his mouth and opting to scroll thought instagram for a bit.

His instagram wasn’t interesting per say. A bunch of art and a few posts from various friends here and there…it was all boring until he saw the little green dot under her photo.

Now was his chance.

‘What happened to the guy?’ He texts ‘wouldn’t be active on instagram if you ever evening fucked. We all know your not competent enough to do two things at once’

—

Rolling over her bed and pulling her pillow to her chest, Y/n snorted at Damian’s text and rolled her eyes, that mother fucker was just jealous.

‘Didn’t work out. He was way to kinky’

she was hoping for a rise out of him, something- anything, brining her lip she watched as the little dotted bubble pop up before going back down again.

Letting out a sigh she rolled over again and carefully looks to her wardrobe, maybe she had a good idea…

And so getting up, she carefully walked over. Careful to not make any sudden noise in hope she wouldn’t wake anyone up.

She dressed herself in a elegant green set of lace- a new one that she had gotten for Damian…using Damian’s card, being fair- he asked he too.

Soon y/n set up the camera and placed it close to her thighs, you couldn’t see her face- but that was the point. She knew Damian hates not being able to see her face…

And so she snapped a shot, sending it straight to him with the caption. ‘I feel so empty without you’

—

Damian stared wide eyed, his pants were getting tight and he could physically feel himself grow to be in more pain as he stared at the photo- how dare she do this to him!

And so he set the phone down and took a deep breath, trying to remain calm…before his phone dinged again.

And before he could eve consider what the text could be, he picked it up and hurriedly searched for her name.

Bingo, it was another photo.

This time it was in the same set but the camera was more focused on her chest, showing her boobs off proudly with the caption ‘id like to be fuller, please daddy.’

And Damian stared, and searched for words before texting one thing back.

‘What if I fill you with my cum? My heirs? You wouldn’t feel so lonely and empty then would you? You would be filled with your lord all the time…’

His pants tightened. He never realised that he could have a thing for her in that way…he never realised he had a breeding kink.

And so he set off to her place

—

The woman at the other end of the line flushed deeply at Damian’s words and squeezed her legs together, that had to be int of the most sexy things he had ever said to her…and imagining herself pregnant, full with his child…and even better, being claimed by him in that way…it excited her.

There were so many things she was thinking of now. Things she had never even dreamed off…it was like she was in a haze.

But knowing Damian, he was teasing her. He would never make any of that a reality…so she set off for the shower, trying to wash away the arousal.

…or so she thought, the bathroom door opened, Samoa standing there both flushed and hard as he looked at her.

“Damian!” She shrieked as she stared at him “what the hell! How did you get in?”

“Spare key” he stalked closer, a primal instinct in his eyes as he stared at her and slowly Pepe’s the glass door.

Her face flushed aa she stared at him, watching as he underdress himself. “What are you doing?” She asks, almost sounding meek.

“You think I was kidding?” He asks her, looking her body up and down before licking his lips. His cock growing even harder. “You think I was joking beloved?”

She felt herself grow wetter and she slowly nods “I mean, I guess I was?” She says. “I never pictured you as the da-“

She didn’t get to finish, Damian had turned off the taps and had picked her up. Throwing her over his shoulder before he set off too her bedroom. Placing her on the bed….right in front of her floor to ceiling mirror.

“Look at yourself” he set her upon his lap, fingers dancing across her stomach and chest “look at how pretty you’d be holding my heir, how beautiful you would look…” he sucked hickies into her neck.

“You would be so swollen, so needy..and I’d fuck you every single day.” He purred

Her head rolled back into his neck and she arched her back as Damian’s fingers went to her nipples and he pinched them lightly, rolling the buds between his finger tips before he grinds into her.

“Your beautiful tits…they would hold so much milk” he smirked “it would leak out of you as I fucked you, you wouldn’t be able to control it and if drink from you every day”

She shuddered and closed her eyes as she felt this hand move from her chest to her stomach, rubbing lightly before he dived the down and pulled her thighs apart.

“Would you enjoy having my baby?” He purred “like a good little slut?”

She gasps and nods in a hurry “I would, I would so much my lord. As long as you were next to me I would enjoy anything~” she clenched around thin air and moans.

He smirked and slowly began to rub her clit, making sure to tease her. “You would be so sexy” he hummed “so beautiful, I’d fuck you all throughout your labour”

She flushed even more “Damian!” She whines loudly “please~ please fuck me now. Put your baby in me-“

She gasps as she was picked up and throw onto the bed mercilessly, thought being opened by his rough and calloused hands before he looked at her “are you ready for my child? Or do you need me to put a condom on?”

She stared at him and felt herself grow hotter “I need your baby. I need to be pregnant with your baby…to be your queen”

He smirked and nods before he slowly thrusted into her, letting out a satisfied moan at how she clenched around him.

She gasps in pleasure and clawed at his back “just give me a moment”

In a sweet moment, he nods na splayed a soft kiss on her lips before trailing it down to her chest “why don’t I show you how good it’ll feel?”

She nods and moaned as his lips began to suck on her nipple, soon enough she was grinding on him- begging for more.

And that’s when he began to thrust. Lifting his head up and staring at her deep in the eyes as the bed creaked beneath them.

“Good girl” he groaned “such a good girl for me. You’ll be rewarded pet~” he moans as he kissed her.

She gasps and moans as she dig her nails into his back, wrapping her legs around his waist.

“Damian!” It was a sharp gasp, her toes curled as she came around his cock, which then sent him over the edge to cum inside her, burying himself as far into her as he could before he felt himself explode and paint her walls white.

She took deep breaths, heart beating out of her chest as she looked up at him “thank you master” she whispers

He also took deep breaths and pressed soft kisses to her hairline “thank you beloved” he says “please. Be my one and only…be my wife”

She smiles and nods “always”

Even if they had skipped a couple of steps…they were both happy in the end…and who knew what the future held.

[aisiedaisie]

Heyo!

I noticed you take asks, but after lurking for a bit, I saw you haven’t done any yet. No worries if you’re not ready! But do you write _ x reader? Because I was thinking it’d be a super cute idea if the reader has a crush on their TA, who happens to be one of the Marauders, in the most boring class ever.

Oh, and if you haven’t had any designated anons yet, can I be ☁️?

Hello hello~ !

I do take asks!!! This is actually the first ask I’ve received and I am so happy. Thank you for sending it in and of course you can be my ☁️ anon! As for _ x reader fics… I’ve actually never written a reader fic before but I’ve tried my best! I think it leaned more gender neutral more than female reader, but I hope its okay.

Also, as someone who normally writes in third person, second person is difficult!!!

TA! Sirius Black x GN! Reader WC: 1.1k

You can’t remember why you signed up for this class. Maybe you thought it would be easy? Or even interesting…

But no.

The only thing remotely worth your time is the observation lab every Friday. The rest? Well, that’s just a blur of uncomfortable lectures, ticking clocks, and the distant hum of other students’ barely contained frustration.

No one would expect you to have perfect attendance. Most of the class doesn't even bother showing up, since attendance isn’t mandatory. They only show for tests, and even then, some skip those. You can’t help but wonder if they dropped the class, or if they just don’t care anymore.

Unfortunately— or, depending on your perspective, fortunately— something other than the lecture has caught your attention. You can’t help but quietly admire the TA at the front of the room, his presence oddly magnetic amidst the dull hum of the class.

Sirius Black is as punctual as you—if not more. He’s always there before anyone else, scanning IDs with a detached efficiency as students shuffle past. Then he settles into the front row, laptop open, his fingers dancing over the keys. He posts notes on Canvas for the absentees, though you suspect it’s more out of routine than necessity, since the lectures are always recorded and uploaded that evening.

He doesn’t seem like the type who’d voluntarily spend his free time sitting through intro-level astronomy lectures. With his shoulder-length, wavy dark hair—often loosely pulled into a half-bun—and his signature worn black leather jacket, he looks more like someone who should be out of a 50s film than a lecture hall. His casual blue jeans and plain white T-shirt complete the look, giving him a James Dean vibe that seems a little too effortless, a little too cool for this room.

You try to refocus, your eyes drifting back to the lecture. Professor Fancourt’s voice drones on in a monotonous lull, and he scribbles another formula on the whiteboard. “With this equation, please find the orbital velocity of Neptune,” he instructs, his back turned as he walks toward the desk by the door where Sirius is absorbed in his typing.

You glance back at the formula, but it might as well be a foreign language.

You’ve never been good at math, and when you signed up for Basic Astronomy, you didn’t think it would be an all-out battle of numbers. You thought you’d be learning about planets, maybe some stars, a little science history. But math? Why did they have to throw that in?

A knot tightens in your stomach as Professor Fancourt starts pacing. You know what’s coming. It’s only a matter of time before he picks someone—randomly, of course—to come up to the whiteboard and answer the question. You have no idea what’s going on with that equation, but you’re pretty sure it’s going to be you.

You don’t want to be called on. Not today.

With a resigned sigh, you gather your things, leaving your notebook open on the desk. A quick break—just enough to clear your head.

You make your way to the TA’s desk. Sirius looks up as you approach, his brow quirking in mild surprise.

“Look at that—someone’s actually moving from their desk,” he teases, and you manage a tired, half-hearted smile, nodding in acknowledgment.

“Just need a break,” you mutter, pulling your ID from your pocket and handing it to him.

He scans it without a word, his fingers drumming absentmindedly on the scanner. “If you’re grabbing something, make it quick,” he says, his voice laced with a playful chuckle. “And don’t forget—bring me something back, yeah?” He adds a wink for good measure, making the suggestion feel almost like a dare.

You step out into the hallway, the noise of the lecture hall fading behind you. For a moment, the weight of the class lifts from your shoulders, and you allow yourself to relax. You focus on the vending machine in front of you, half-stalling, half-actually needing something to take your mind off the dull lecture and the growing pressure of the equation you still can’t wrap your head around.

You scan the rows of snacks—chips, candy bars, granola. You grab the chocolate bar you always go for when you need something quick. You buy it, but as you clutch the candy and step away from the machine, you remember Sirius’ words, his playful tone still echoing in your mind. “And don’t forget—bring me something back, yeah?”

You pause, eyeing your snack. An impulse hits you, and you decide to grab a pack of sour gummies from the row below. It’s different from what you’d normally get, but you figure it’s a safe bet. Plus, you’d hate to go back empty-handed after he asked, even if he was joking.

With both snacks in hand, you head back into the lecture hall. The familiar hum of the room greets you, but this time it feels different. The pressure in your chest has lifted, replaced with an unexpected calm. You’re grateful to find the professor already discussing the next topic when you return.

You make your way to your seat, but before you sit down, you glance toward the front of the room. Sirius is still hunched over his laptop, typing with the same detached concentration as always. His attention is on the screen, but when he hears you approach, he looks up just in time to catch your eye.

You raise the pack of sour gummies slightly, as if to confirm you heard him. “Brought you something.”

His eyebrow quirks in surprise, but the smirk that follows is unmistakable. He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms with a quiet chuckle. “Well, I’ll be damned. You actually came through.” His gaze flickers between the gummies and your face, and you can’t help but feel a little self-conscious under his attention.

“They’re for you,” you say, offering him the pack. “Hope you like them.”

Sirius grins, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment as he takes the gummies. “Thanks. This’ll make the rest of this lecture bearable,” he says with a wink. “Thanks, love.”

You smile, a little shy, your cheeks flushing at the nickname. You return to your seat as he rips open the pack, popping a gummy in his mouth. The subtle exchange is enough to keep your mind from wandering back to the looming equation on the board.

The rest of the class goes by in a blur.

Professor Fancourt drones on as usual, but you don’t mind so much now. For once, you actually feel... lighter. Sirius hasn’t left his post at the front of the room, but every so often, you catch him glancing back at you with a quiet grin, as if he knows exactly how much of an effect he’s having on you. It turns your cheeks even darker, and your eyes quickly dart away when you make eye contact.

By the time the class ends, you’re no longer dreading the idea of coming back next week. In fact, you might even look forward to it a little, and not just because of the observation lab on Friday.

[yanxidarlings]

hello !! I've been really interested in your "not slytherin" writing and i think i have reread it more than 20-ish times hahahah since it's really good and you're the reason why i am invested in all these fan characters (since i didnt see what their appeal was before reading your work).

and now speaking of it, I'm now thinking about a specific "what if?" scenario, and that is; what if the suffering the reader goes through becomes so much to the point it transforms them into an obscurial? they have pretty much oppressed all their emotions, all their negativity, for four years— and it broke them. and the angst would be so good for this. the reader would definitely be more than distrustful. they're afraid that since their name has already been burnt off their own family; they would soon be expelled or even worse taken into the ministry for how dangerous they are to the other students. and this would definitely up the yandere factor to another level. they're aware theyre at fault for most of the reader's suffering, and that a single trigger would cause them to burst but then they can't do a single fucking thing about it or else.

not a request, but it's something ive been thinking about for a long time now !! (I'm really new to the hp fandom and ur writing definitely made me want to read more into them so I'm glad i stumbled upon it suddenly ^^)

dude, broski, broskilenski, ur a wizard of some sort because HOW ELSE COULD YOU READ MY MIND

i was considering making the reader an obscurial (my favourite fanfiction trope by far) but hesitent incase it was too farfetched but I HAVE BEEN GIVEN A SIGN

was sitting on not slytherin aye p2 but this ask has given me the inspiration to write

so without further adieu, with compliments to the other not slytherin p2 ask

jaythes1mp asked:

Could you do a part two of your latest fic (at this time) — YANDERE SLYTHERIN BOYS: NOT SLYTHERIN, AYE?

Where all the sudden suffocating affection they’re showing him after years of tournament makes him leave Hogwarts because he’s so terrified. He knows they couldn’t have changed, since they’re still threatening anyone near him. But once news gets around to them that he’s leaving for good? How would they take the news? And if they learn that he’s been disowned from his family? Would that be a good or bad thing — because now they can’t arrange a marriage. And it would be harder to find him if he got out of their grasps.

Would they be forced to team up? Would they force him into an unbreakable vow or blood pact??

Please do my request, I’ll beg. Just ask, I will actually get on my knees and beg. 🙏🙏🙏🙏

i present

YANDERE SLYTHERIN BOYS: NOT SLYTHERIN, AYE? P2

“remember, you have to do anything to be slytherin, no matter what it takes” draco's words replayed in m/n's head. he'd replayed that sentance so much it had become distorted, is that even what he said m/n thought to himself, watching the train pass by.

under his eyes were bags the size of boulders, he hadn't slept in days. not since..

"excuse me, sir" a voice rung in his head. m/n shook his head, he wanted it all to go away, go away, go away- "mister, i'm gonna have to ask you for ID" somesort of internal wiring within him snapped "GO AWAY" m/n screamed, finally turning to face to the person- man.. muggle police officer, that had been addressing him.

the officer moved back, taking a strange device off his uniform and speaking into it "i'm gonna need back-up, barkley" whilst the man was engaged, m/n made a run for it.

"GET BACK HERE YOUNG MAN" the police officer bellowed, chasing after the teenage boy.

running through, down the subway and onto the train tracks, the officer gave up the pursuit. sooner or later the boy would be run over by an oncoming train in the tunnels.

after running for who knows how long, m/n finally slowed to a walking pace. then he stopped. the sound of a horn filled his ears, the pitch black tunnel illuminated by the vehicles headlights. i

it was getting closer

m/n looked around, there was nowhere to go in the narrow tunnel

closer

tears filled his eyes, but instead of sobbing he began laughing, only to break out into a fit of sobs and then revert back to laughter.

it was too close

suddenly a BANG was heard as the train came to a stop, the tunnel filled with black mist, which had somehow crushed the head of the train.

it was not natural, it was.. dark magic.

• it was on the front page of the daily prophet the next day 'OBSCURIAL SIGHTING IN SOUTH LONDON SUBWAY' obscurials were no common occurance, the last one was reported in the 1930's, new york.

• it wasn't a cured illness, no, the circumstances of it's development had simply become less common. children of all blood status' had access to education in order to facilitate their powers, and there were muggleborn programs across the world to ensure they did not develop one either.

• it had the ministry stumped. there were no leads on the obscurus, nor was a body found to sugget the outburst had caused the hosts death.

• albus dumbledore was no stranger to obscurials, he had lost so much to them, his sister, his nephew — but he knew well what power the host of one held. and the key role one could play in the coming war.

• which is why he had to find the obscurial before the ministry, or lord voldemort did.

"i am not here to hurt you, m/n" the headmaster called out, slowly approaching the young wizard, who's wand was drawn. "what spell do you plan to use, child?" the older man chimed, it was no secret m/n l/n was never the best with applied magic, like he was with potions or magical creatures

m/n's wand arm shook, "petrificus totalus" upon speaking the words, his wand shot out a spell, of which dumbledore blocked. hitting into the ground, the concrete began to degrade.

terrified, m/n dropped his wand, eyes glassy and wide "i didn't- i have to go" he stuttered out

"there are people who will hurt you, who will use you as a weapon" dumbledore moved closer to the boy who was now shaking "i can help, you can help, you don't have to be the monster the obscurus compels you to be" they were now face to face, or beard to cheek, as m/n couldn't break his eyes away from the concrete.

when the boy nodded, the headmaster took his arm, and a loud POP sounded through the air.

the next day, m/n attended breakfast as if he had not been missing for the past two weeks.

the headmaster had given him his own room under the guise of spacing issues, perhaps having an escape would make this year less hellish, or maybe spending too much time alone would exuberate his growing instability.

at least he could kill one of his tormenters without any witnesses now.

a couple people stared at him as he made his way to the great hall, lovegood had even greeted him. albeit she held the quibbler she had with her close to her chest.

"salazar!" he heard a familiar voice exclaim from behind him, arms wrapping around him "where have you been, l/n" he didn't like the way malfoy was looking at him, it was soft "i thought- i thought you had done something stup-"

m/n was quick to shove off malfoys embrace, rather roughly, before turning around to walk away.

he was pulled back, he now saw malfoys eyes were glassy, as if he was about to cry. what a baby, m/n thought, he wasn't listening to whatever bollocks was coming out malfoys mouth, instead he just glared "and i'm sorry if i was the reason-"

"malfoy, just go cry about this to the house elves, they get paid to care i don't"

and with that, m/n was off, ignoring zabini and nott who were staring at him as he shoved past.

• as the days went by, his tormentors wouldn't leave him alone, but they weren't doing what they always had, they were being nice. which scared him even more. perhaps because niceness was so foreign or because he knew it had to be a ploy for their next big trick.

• he wanted to be left alone by them but there was no way out. they held him in chokeholds they called hugs and suffocated him with what they called kisses.

• they sat with him in class and one of them was always partnered up with him, but they just wanted to sabotage his grades, and get him expelled.

• they were no longer hostile towards him but towards each other, whenever one caught him with another, they'd fight each other with wits or fists.

• they dragged him to their dorm every night and drew sticks to decide who he would be stuck with for the night. he never slept those nights, they were just waiting for him to fall asleep so they could do something horrible.

• but he rarely ever slept at all these days, which is what contributed to the paranoia that led him to leaving.

• the only reason he stayed was for headmaster dumbledore, who had been attempting to help him learn to control the obscurus, to no avail. when the headmaster was outcast by the ministry, there was no reason to stay and wait to get caught for what he was.

"do you understand your fault, mr l/n" the sickeningly sweet sound of umbridges voice filled his ears, it was more painful than the cuts inflicted on him by the quill he had been forced to write with.

blood was trickling down to the floor, the words that he had been made to write indecipherable, covered in the blood they had drawn. "i must not disrespect the high inquisitor" he uttered, teeth clenched.

"i don't think you understand, mr l/n, twenty more lines"

he remained still, staring at the blood on the carpet, then at the decorative plates embeded with cats, and then at umbridges face.

"i quit"

"pardon, mr l/n?"

m/n stood up out of his chair, dropping the quill on the floor "i'm leaving hogwarts" he threw his wand on the table he had been forced to maim himself at, before storming out of the room.

• the news soon reached the slytherins that their beloved m/n had left the school, leaving them bewildered.

• when draco tried to find the reader by having his father get in contact with the l/n's, it finally hit them that m/n had been disowned, rendering their previous efforts to keep him useless.

BLAISE ZABINI

• blaise is probably the most crushed. his entire plan involved arranging a marriage with the reader, which was now impossible. but what upsets him more is that m/n never even told him. five months and not one mention of being disowned.

• he's mad at the reader until he comes to know the reason for the reader being disowened - because of all he and the other slytherins had done to make it seem like he was a blood traitor.

• blaise hated himself for being a part of it all, but above all, he hated the other slytherins for starting it all. it was draco's fault they all started tormenting him, it was mattheos fault they took it to the extreme.

DRACO MALFOY

• draco had his suspicions from the moment m/n returned, his father had mentioned in passing about the l/n's and how dissapointed they were in their son. but it usually ended in lucius praising draco for being such a good son, so he had never paid it much mind.

• it was his fault, he knew it. he hated feeling powerless but that's what he felt as his father told him m/n hadn't gone back home. m/n didn't have a home. he could be out there all on his own, exposed to the dangers of the muggle world..

• his obsession only grew after m/n left hogwarts, every moment of every day he wondered where he was, if he was okay, if he was with anyone. if he was with anyone he'd end them.

LORENZO BERKSHIRE

• enzo had been told by his parents a few months ago they were unable to arrange a marriage because m/n had been disowned. not that he told anyone else, let them think they have him whilst lorenzo makes m/n fall in love with him.

• except his every advance was met with rejection or hostility. and when m/n left for good he was devastated, how were they supposed to live out their love story now?

• lorenzo confronts the other slytherins when the news m/n had left reached them, which is what led to the realization that they were all sickly obsessed with the ravenclaw.

MATTHEO RIDDLE

• something had been strange about m/n the moment he returned, mattheo saw it in his eyes. whether it was what he had gone through the previous years still haunting him, or something else, mattheo tries to get m/n to talk to him, but he's.. mattheo, who once broke m/n's ribcage from beating him.

• it was impossible to foster any trust no matter what he did. he tries to talk about his own struggles, his cruel father and upbringing. he tries to treat m/n like a porcelain doll, but the walls never go down.

• hell hath no rage like a riddle scorned, mattheo would have killed umbridge if tom hadn't stopped him. but he wasn't done with just her, the l/n's were next on his path of rage, and there was little anyone could do to stop him from inflicting a painful death on them

THEODORE NOTT

• theo could barely handle m/n's reluctance to warm up to him, it took every bit of strength in him not to yell and force m/n into opening up, accepting his affection, but m/n not being there at all? theo goes off the rails.

• he fears the worst, what if.. m/n.. theo thinks to himself every moment he's not thinking about how to get him back. when draco tells him m/n was disowned, he broke down crying in the bathroom when he was alone later.

• the world was not safe for a young wizard with no wand or money. what if the dark lord went after him for being a blood traitor. theo went with mattheo to threaten umbridge, and figure out where m/n would have gone.

TOM RIDDLE

• tom could see all the pain m/n was going through when he used legilimency on him. he saw the abuse, the torment, the self hatred, and he knew what the reader had been through and become.

• he's furious that m/n's own parents would disown him, as if he was disposable. it reminded him too much of his own father. but he puts his emotions aside to focus on what really mattered, finding and keeping m/n.

• tom was the only one who had figured out m/n's condition, and used it to his advantage, telling his father that the reader was the obscurus the ministry had been looking for, making m/n voldemorts new target for capture.

tracking down an obscurial was not as simple as the dark lord had anticipated it to be, which is why he delegated the task to his eldest son who had first hand experience with the boy, m/n l/n.

coming to a stop as the sight of the boy filled tom vision, the young death eater watched as m/n stared down his reflection in the water. tom slowly came closer, wand at the ready, until his own reflection revealed his presence.

"you look horrible" the boy turned to face tom as he spoke "you here to kill me, riddle?" m/n sounded resigned, like he had already accepted it.

but that was not what tom was there for. "the dark lord wants you within his ranks" tom stated, avoiding m/n's dead gaze. "what the dark lord wants does not concern me" m/n took a step back, he was scared, tom could tell.

"are you going to make this difficult for me, m/n?" tom took a step closer, snaking an arm around the males waist.

before m/n had the chance to try and stab him in the eye with his own wand, tom stunned him, knocking him out, as lord voldemort came out of the shadows "well done, son" tom looked down at m/n's unconscious face as they apparated. you'll love me oneday.

• the readers condition certainly complicates things for the slytherins, it's no longer simply just subjugate him whether he likes it or not, the readers stability is the difference between life or death, freedom or azkaban for them.

• he becomes the dark lords puppet project, a weapon to use against the order of the phoenix and a tool to keep the future of the death eaters loyal.

• he never returns to hogwarts, tom made sure he was outted as the obscurial so that he'd never have anywhere to run, everywhere he could go he would be seen as a threat, a monster.

• an all-out war breaks out bewteen the slytherins once they have the reader in their grasp again. no one is willing to relent, m/n belongs to them. not the others, them.

• the slytherins would slowly come to the realisation there was no single 'winner', none of them could ever have a normal life with him now the dark lord was back and he had developed an obscurus.

• instead the focus would switch into keeping m/n safe, from voldemort, from himself, from the ministry, from everything.

TOM RIDDLE

• out of all of them, tom can handle m/n's obscurus the best. mostly because he's level headed enough not to set him off. sure he has some sadistic tendencies but at the cost of his own, and surrounding lives?

• tom's obsession was exuberated by the obscurus, it made his darling all the more appealing. to hold such power over someone so powerful is what drives him to sometimes provoke the obscurus, to see what potential m/n truly holds.

• sometimes he goes to far and gets someone or himself seriously injured. he wants to help his darling learn to control the obscurus, but it's hard to acheive when he himself also wants to control his darling.

THEODORE NOTT

• theo is frankly horrified when he finds out m/n had developed an obscurus. he had only ever heard stories about obscurials dying young, after an outburst they can't control.

• he wonders how long m/n had suffered with it for. in the back of his mind, he hopes it was before hogwarts, or else he truly was an absolute piece of shit, to help torment the one he loves most into such a despairful illness.

• theo spends the time he's not with his darling searching through the old pureblood libraries for even a hint of a cure. he wanted to be with his darling forever, but the oldest obscurial only ever lived until 23. theo won't stop until he can figure out how to get rid of the obscurus.

MATTHEO RIDDLE

• mattheo knows he's most likely the reason, above all the other slytherins, for the readers affliction. he was the one who chased him into dark hallways and used the torture curse, the one who said the nastiest things, the one who went the furthest with the torment.

• he wishes he could take all his darlings pain away. because one wrong word, one accidental touch, could send him over the edge. a world without his darling is what scares him the most, above everything fucked up in the wizarding world.

• so he treats m/n like a single bump would shatter him. it's difficult, mattheo isn't exactly the super soft type, but he tries, he knows if any of the slytherins caught m/n looking upset around him they'd end him.

LORENZO BERKSHIRE

• enzo underestimates the readers condition, until he finally see's it for himself one day when snape had called m/n a freak, and he exploded. safe to say, it terrified enzo.

• he's under the impression that if he loves m/n enough, the obscurus will go away. deep down he knows it won't, but it helps him justify the heap of affection he doses his darling in. his heart breaks when he's pushed away and he knows pushing back could result in the worst.

• lorenzo is the readers number one caretaker. he always reminds them to eat and get sleep and not to stress about anything. he tries to treat them as normally as possible but it gets difficult when the obscurus mentality kicks in and m/n starts talking about killing them all.

DRACO MALFOY

• draco isn't quite sure how to approach his dear darling after finding out he's an obscurial. draco is overcome with guilt for the hand he had in it, and abominably frustrated he can't just force the reader into doing what he wants.

• when he becomes a death eater he begins to fear for his darlings safety, he hears what the dark lord says about his plans including m/n, and it scares him. there's no regard for m/n's safety or survival, the dark lords only goal is to set m/n off when he takes hogwarts for a quick and easy victory.

• draco tries to get closer to m/n by playing the dependent rich boy, who doesn't know how to do anything for himself. draco figures that if m/n starts to feel responsible for him, it'll be harder for him to leave or say no.

BLAISE ZABINI

• blaises mother told him to stay far away from m/n when she found out. if it were anyone else he would take her advice, but this was his darling, and he could never abandon him over a small imperfection.

• he's the easiest to be around among them all, he doesn't feel the need to always been touching or talking to the reader which is usually what sets him off.

• blaise tries to help m/n settle back into normal life (normal meaning non socially isolated endlessly tormented), but years of torment has taken it's toll in more ways than one. sometimes m/n will accuse blaise and the others of the strangest things, but they all have to take it in stride, or else risk an outburst.

[swiftiefirefighters]

tbh I wish people would remember that that's the case on any show. recurring characters should get less screentime than main characters. I want to see buck have a story on his own without people complaining about not seeing tommy. tommy is a love interest, and we didn't see taylor 24/7 either

prefacing all of this by saying i did include myself in that post in that there are so many characters id love to see more of (tell me where carla is, we need more karen, what do the buckley parents REALLY think about tommy and bucks sexuality, i miss may!!!! whatever happened to harry???? will josh EVER get a boyfriend???). but the tommy of it all -

(which of course i am biased so maybe my opinion here is skewed and for that i ask forgiveness)

this is funny bc i feel like i don’t see it that much with tommy, mostly it’s just people having a laugh. like most of us didn’t even think we’d see him in the premiere at all so that’s even why we were so excited and happy for what we did get w chris’ birthday party. (obviously i don’t follow everyone so just my perspective.) i think most tommy fans are pretty realistic about what we’ll get while also wanting more about him. i definitely, at the very least, didn’t see anyone complaining after the premiere.

but i also think we have to remember that tommy is a very large part of bucks story right now, and i would argue since he is a first responder, has the potential to be part of the procedural narrative in a way that, say, taylor wasn’t. (and i would also argue in season 5 she had a LOT of screen time.). he knows everyone and has a history with the 118 and gerrard that would be interesting to explore. it’s different from your normal love interest who really only has a connection to one person and then knows everyone else through that person. in fact, tommy knew literally every other main character besides maddie before he knew buck - he even befriended eddie before buck. i don’t think it’s strange to want to explore that.

that being said, no, i don’t expect him in every episode or story, but i do expect him to be a heavy part of bucks story as he goes through whatever he’s about to go through and gets more settled in himself. it just makes sense.

but i’m going to be honest, this feels like a bad faith ask and anon just wanted a chance to complain about tommy. i’m sorry if that isn’t the case. i know i don’t follow everyone in fandom, but outside of silly little headcanons and spec that is for fun, i haven’t seen anyone complain we don’t see enough tommy or that he has too much screen time.

and i’m also going to add that most of the over the top love for tommy/lou, especially on official 911 channels comes from a place of trying to drown out unnecessary hate - you have to remember here that lou has gotten death threats, that just him being in that bee puns video has waves of people commenting that he was a jumpscare who should be warned for. so if people love him a little extra to try and be louder than the people who are being gross and nasty about him, well.

i’ve gone back through this and think i have given it fair thought and a thoughtful reply but idk it’s super early in the morning.

[shuuen-no-cimory]

Also of course, it ain't me if I don't crossover my current hyperfixation with my ultimate current hyperfixation. So... Degrees of Lewdity x ProjectMoon! (This post is full of me yapping as I explain each drawing, so I guess, be ready?)

First, I'll go hard with Whitney as R Corp. 4th Rabbit Team. The initial idea was that he reminds me so much of RHeath LMAO But eventually I love the idea because I think he'd go along with Myo well. Plus... Somehow imagining Whitney in Rabbit Team Hatchery shenanigans seems... Interesting.

Next is Eden. If anyone notice, I originally designed him based of 2 Abnos: Der Freischutz and Big Bird. Der Frei was, of course, a nod to his title as a Hunter, and a marksman as well. For Big Bird... Yeah definitely there's the Big Bird in DoL, yet I think temperance-wise, Eden does felt similar to Big Bird. A creature living in a forest, thinking they protect others by doing the action that definitely doesn't seems to be out of protection. As for RRH, oh think about this: Being hunted down while getting marked. One by a hunter, and another by a wolf. Oh isn't it just reminds me of something...? Right

Funny enough, before I designed the school LIs properly, I reimagined them as The City's feathers. "If they're living in the City and has to work with one Wing, which one they'll work on?" I've talked about R. Corp Whitney earlier so I'll talk about the others! Robin, L Corp. - I can imagine him with the pressing needs to survive under the weight of Bailey's rent ends up either being sent or signed himself up as an agent for L Corp. The Wing doesn't ask that much requirement as per Hokmah's story while the agent supposed to have a great pay (being a wing and all). Hence, I think he might work for L Corp. Sydney, K Corp. - The idea was that after graduating, Sydney might follow Sirris path in science. Being the obedient child she is (as we sees on the game before they get corrupted), she probably choose to do what Sirris might do hence her as K Corp. researcher. Oh anyway, truly this is just a fyi that doesn't seems to be related to anything, I reimagined Harper as Dongrang in this scenario, with the whole Teary-Thing problem exist. Oh, lucky enough for Sydney to help producing K Ampule that definitely just as seen in the canon Limbus story. Just saying. Kylar, W Corp. - This one actually a rather fun idea. This is set with the idea that Kylar work as the Clean Up Member, with parents that's definitely unaware with how their child work but nevertheless proud with him. They'd even use WARP Train solely to be sent off by Kylar each time, much to Kylar silent dismay. If only they know what Kylar has to clean up among the 6 seconds they went into the train... Read one of the reblog tag and yeah. It has to do with Love Town. And pretty much how Kylar had to regularly assemble his parents again and again each trip they made.

LCB! SYDNEY LET'S GOOOO!!!! This idea came as I made my LCB-esque ID Card for Sydney. The idea of LCB Sydney's background was that it's pretty much what happened in the game, but make it The City-esque and seen from Sydney's eyes. It's fun imagining her as a Dieci Fixer who was caught in a complicated issue which she rather dip out from as she hasn't fully grow the backbone to face it yet. Oh right, in this AU I reimagined Ivory as Abnormality and both Sydney and Kylar got their EGO. Sydney got their Longing Phase EGO (HE, Gloom) while Kylar got the Haunting Phase EGO (WAW, Wrath). I actually had a draft of how the EGO works and its gimmick but let's talk it later on lol

When Yield My Flesh event is up on Limbus, my head doing the funny by thinking, "Damn... Jun Wren sounds cool..." then I remember Tingtang exist like jfgdjfgbjd HE FITS BETTER AS TINGTANG WHY DIDN'T I THINK ABOUT IT ON A SIDE NOTE, I also had the thought on how Bailey MIGHT kills it as either a Kurokumo or a Middle. After all, Middle never forget... Just like how Bailey never forget your rent LOL

And last but not least: Sydney and Robin as L Corp. Agent! Robin will be a high Temperance agent which work for Safety Team, while Sydney is the high Fortitude, high Prudence Disciplinary Team Captain. Oh, if you do notice: I made Sydney's cross looks like Penitence EGO Weapon. It's actually based of this idea of how One Sin and WhiteNight's dynamic thematically fits Sydney the Faithful and Sydney the Fallen. The name of both Abnos' EGO Set-- "Penitence" and "Paradise Lost" respectively, both fits the image of each Sydneys. Hence, I draw them in both EGO Sets!

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Curious what you'd say about Soap for the character ask game. You haven't really spoken about him as much as the others so I'm curious :O (id love to hear about every single character tho i wont lie to you but i have a feeling you'll get asked about those lol)

@nekrosmos asked for Soap too.

Honestly? There is unfortunately a reason. I lingered around fandom for a good few months before I got involved at all. I saw some behaviour from his fanbase that I didn't like and so I made the conscious choice that he's not a character I'd probably be creating much for. I love the art, happy to support creators, etc. Besides, there are so many delicious, delicious rarepairs to love and create for and plenty of gallant, productive, devoted Ghoapers.

He's quite compelling though, and I've got quite a few thoughts and headcanons, and I'm happy to write prompts with him. A few friends on Discord really love him and I like to create for them too, cause happy friends give me the fuzzies. So, you know, a story idea might grip me by the balls and I'll wack out a long form thing.

favorite thing about them

His journals.

Reading those finally gave me a connection with his character that I hadn't developed previously. But they really show how driven he is, how much he wants to be the best he can be, so he's not a burden, so he doesn't let anyone down. He's constantly striving to earn his place to the point that it kills him in the end.

I think he genuinely struggles with wanting to be liked (as part of 'earning his place'), and I think he is often too much for people. Ghost giving back as good as he gets is a comfortable relationship because the line for Ghost is way, way in the distance; Johnny doesn't have to worry like he does with 'normal' people. Neither of them is fuckin' normal.

Price giving him a chance would have been the first step towards the hero-style worship he has for him. "What? Me? Ye want... me? Aye, aye I will be the best fuckin' dog ye ever had, I will bite my own leg off for ye." Everything Soap does is to prove that Price didn't make a mistake. That he was a good investment. And Price, the sly fucker, knows it. He sees himself there.

least favorite thing about them

I wish they had given him a stronger accent and leaned more into that in the games. In fact, I wish that for all of them.

I also think that Soap has capacity to cause great harm without even realising it. Like, we get glimpses of it; he's nearly court-martialled for punching out a copper. In his single-minded pursuit of something, I reckon there could be a lot of collateral damage.

He lacks confidence but will cover it up by being an arsehole and doing arsehole things (such as smuggling a girl on base to impress The Guys). I say I like "least favourite"; I think this makes him compelling as a character. He's not all sunshine and rainbows. He's just as gritty, professional and flawed as the rest of 'em.

favorite line

"You sick bastard..."

"My kingdom for a suppressor..."

"Price?... This belongs to you, sir."

brOTP

Gaz & Soap

OTP

Uh... none really. Ghost/Soap?

nOTP

Don't have any strong feelings on any.

random headcanon

He's really bad at team sport. He showed no interest in any when he was growing up. Gym? Running? Swimming? Anything where the only competition is himself and his own limits? That's where Soap's head is.

unpopular opinion

Honestly? I don't know which of my opinions would be unpopular. Probably the 'not sunshine and rainbows' one, maybe?

song i associate with them

favorite picture of them

[destroymeinherz]

The Party

A little while back someone posted about a fantasy of being passed around a stethoscope party, with different people listening to their heart. I don’t remember who did so if it was you, I hope you like this. It sparked creativity,

I could continue if anyone wants another part. But I wanted to do the basic idea.

The Party

I’d just signed with a modeling agency. It wasn’t the most exclusive, sometimes the jobs weren’t exactly what I hoped but college was expensive, so I took what I could. How bad could it be? It’s not like I planned to run for office or something.

My agent called me after classes one afternoon asking if I’d be interested in a gig that was more unconventional. After a few basic questions for my safety, nothing seemed too offensive even if it was secretive, and a rep from the agency would be there in case of trouble, I decided to take it.

Friday night I arrived at a big mansion just outside the city. From the looks of it this was old money, probably descendants of oil barons and railway tycoons. Which meant the paycheck would be huge. They’d promised a large payout for anyone who stayed til midnight.

I was let into a large foyer and usher back to a small hallway to a butlers parlor. A woman checked my ID, checked my name off a list and then looked me over.

“You will be required to wear one of two outfits tonight,” She instructed, pulling two hangers off a rack of clothes. “Black is standard, you are willing to do anything that would be clothes on. Call it PG-13.”

She held up a black Herve Luger bandage dress for emphasis. Then in her other hand, she held up a red one nearly identical to the former.

“Red,” She continued. “You are open to sexual behavior, and by wearing red you are giving consent to sexual advance,”

Well, I was single and I was never a prude, so I took the red. Might as well have a bit of fun. Once I accepted my color choice, she handed me an iPad with a waiver basically stating that I would take proper precautions, assert myself and under no circumstances attempt to contact anyone I met here after the event. I would ask for aid if I felt unsafe and leave without a scene. If I did not make it to midnight, I’d be compensated $200 per hour worked.

I shrugged and signed. She then held back a curtain for me to change in a small closet. I slipped inside, squeezed into the dress and as I was ushered to a door she fit me with a bracelet.

“If you need out, press the red button. Security will extract you.” She informed. “Are you ready?”

I blinked. Extracted? My heart started to pound, suddenly feeling crushed by the tight dress. What did I get myself into. But… the money was clouding my judgement. So I nodded, and the door opened. Once I cleared the threshold, it closed behind me.

Just walk around. Be eye candy. That was my only instruction. So that is what I did.

The room was a parlor, antique and dimly lit. It was full of golds and deep rich red textiles, dark wood and gold finishes. Old leather bound editions of classic literature adorned the bookshelves. I felt like I’d gone back in time. Or I was in a vampire’s house. My heart thudded at the thought.

The room was also full of people, in fine clothes, expensive tuxes and dresses. All of them wore masks like a masquerade. As I started to work through the crowd they watched me, with hungry eyes. Maybe I was in a vampire’s den. I was about to be dinner. There were a few other girls dressed in the red or black, varying heights and hair colors and skin tones.

I swallowed and tried to will my poor heart to stop trying to escape my chest. Until finally, a man approached me.

“Well, aren’t you lovely,” He said, holding out his hand.

I took his hand, and he brought it to his lips. He then moved his fingers down my wrist, stopping to feel my pulse. He offered him a soft smile. Then, he nodded before he motioned a waiter over.

The waiter came with a silver cloche, removing the dome top and extending the tray to the man. But there wasn’t food. It was a line of various stethoscopes. His fingers danced along them as he made his selection, a red tube that matched my dress.

He waved the man off, then examined it before placing the buds in his ears.

“Now, deep breath for me. Like a doctor’s office.” He said as he placed the diaphragm on my chest,

I was surprised, but I did as he asked, breathing in deeply and feeling my heart kick in my chest. Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump.

He must have enjoyed the sound of my heart because he moved the diaphragm around my chest, smiling to himself and eventually he stopped. He listened for a long time, and even behind a mask I could see his eyes were closed.

I blushed. Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump

Finally, he opened his eyes and moved the diaphragm away. He took the ear pieces out and looked around. Then he must have seen who he needed, because he waved to someone.

“You have a perfect heart, my dear.” He said.

“Uh, thanks…” I replied.

Another man approached, he also had a stethoscope. He looked to the first man oblivious to me and waited for why he’d been called over.

“I think she’s the one. Take a listen.”

The new man finally looked at me. I smiled at him but he simply leaned in with his own stethoscope and listened to my heart. I took a deep breath like I had before.

Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump

“I think you’re right,” He replied. “Take her in, I’ll grab the others.”

The others? I blinked in surprise. Is this all it was? A bunch of cosplayers listening to my heart for a few hours? That didn’t seem so bad. Even if they wanted to listen to it during sex or something. That was actually, kinda hot.

“Come with me,” The first man said.

I nodded as he took my hand again. This time he lead me down another hallway to a different room. He opened the door and brought me in, then closed it behind me. It was more of a sitting room with a beautiful chaise in the center, raised up on a platform.

I recognized some medical equipment from various movies or doctors visits. Nothing seemed too concerning.

“Now, lay down on the chaise,” He instructed. “You may stay clothed for now. But do remove your shoes as to not damage the upholstery.”

I did as he asked. Once I was settled, he returned to my side. He brought the steth out again and gently placed it on my chest. He let out a content sigh as he listened to my heart pound.

As he listened, others started to fill the room. They lined up behind him. I had never expected anything like this. Just lay here and let them hear my heart beat.

“Before we continue, could I get you anything? Water, soda, wine?”

I smiled. “What would you like me to have?”

“Oh you are cheeky.” He grinned. “Perhaps a little caffeine, to stimulate you. What does everyone think?”

There was a nod of agreement from the group and some muttering of approval. The first man smiled and had one of the caterers being me a soda can on a platter with a straw beside it.

“Go ahead and open it, then use the straw to limit your movement to drink.” He instructed.

I did as he asked. Once the can was open and the straw was in, in leaned over to the table where it sat and drank a few gulps. As I did, the man placed the diaphragm on my chest again.

He closed his eyes, listening and seemingly very content with the sound. Finally he opened them, took my hand and kissed the back of it. He stepped aside and the next person in line stepped up.

There was no clock in the room but it felt like time slowed in this room. Each person took their turn stepping up to my seat and just listening to my heartbeat. Some had me drink the soda, some had me lay down, some had me sit and stand quickly. I’d stand there and pant through running in place and jumping jacks in a too tight dress, as they listened to my heart’s reaction and then recovery.

Ba-dumpba-dumpba-dumpba-dump ba-dump ba-dump ba-dump

I had to admit, this was fun.

The last person was a woman, she couldn’t have been much older than me. She seemed more keen then the men had. Her eyes were bright behind her mask. She took a deep breath as her gold and white stethoscope settled on my chest.

“My… your heart… it’s by far one of the loveliest I’ve heard.” She said to me, her voice was lustful. “May I rest my head on your chest? Hear it directly with my ear?”

“Sure. I don’t see why not.” I replied.

“Would you like to hear your heart while I do?” She removed the stethoscope and offered it.

The people in the room all watched, eager to see how I would respond. Well, why not? If it made them happy it was my job tonight. I don’t think I’d ever heard my heartbeat before, not like this anyway.

“Okay. Sure” I replied with a smile.

That was the right answer as she grinned with excitement and placed the ear pieces in my ears. Then she placed the diaphragm down on my skin and rested her ear next to it.

I inhaled as I had before and my head filled with the rhythmic thumping they’d all been indulging in for the last few hours.

Ba-dump ba-dump ba-dump ba-dump

I closed my own eyes and lost myself in the sound. Maybe I should come to these parties more often. Hearing the steady beat, knowing it was mine… that was intoxicating.

“Do you like it?” She asked.

“Yeah. I think I get the vibe.” I responded.

“Are you ready to try something a little more interesting?” The first man asked, approaching me slowly. “You can refuse any of the requests, we won’t take offense or change your compensation. These would be granting special requests.”

The stethoscope was removed from my ears and I almost whined about it. I liked hearing my heart, understanding what they were hearing. What they enjoyed that brought me here.

“Sure,” I said. “What do you have in mind?”

End?

[eri-pl]

A fic in need of a name (I'll be grateful for ides, not necessarily will use, but I'll be grateful) and maybe some proofreading

<2k words. No TWs, very fluffy. Lúthien and Finrod talk about art.

One warning: IDK how to explain, but: my friend dfw and everyone else who sees Lúthien as unfairly treated well by the narrative: I do kind of admire this unfairness in this fic. Also, she has an …intense personality here. Read at your own discretion.

Lúthien looked at Finrod with her strange, Light-filled-but-not eyes. “Why are my songs so boring to you?”

They stood under the stars and the new moon, in a small glade, now filled with nightingales that looked at the princess of Doriath and whistled, as if pleading her to continue.

“I would not call them boring.”

“You do not say it, but they seem dull to you. Dear cousin, you don't need to speak in courtly lies with us. Never. We are not— hypocrites.” She almost said “Noldor”, he could feel it from her. So who was the hypocrite there? The princess continued: “I simply seek to know how to sing better.”

Despite being born from an union of an elf and an Ainu, she was in many ways like a child. All the Sindar were so. Finrod smiled, but didn't try to conceal his thoughts about the conversation. There were some secrets he needed to keep from her keen mind, but if his feelings could be revealed without enraging anyone…  “They are beautiful, but there is never any conflict in then,” he said gently, observing Lúthien's reaction.

It wasn't anger, but surprise. “Why would a song need strife to be good?”

This gave Finrod pause. How could she have questioned something as obvious as one of the fundamental laws of art? But indeed, the ancient songs — from the Journey, and even the early ones from Aman — did not have any strife in them. Just like hers, they were about things and people simply …being. 

He pondered about it for a while, until the answer came to him. “Without conflict, there's no change. No progress. No clear point to end the song.”

“You end the song when you don't want to sing anymore. Or when you want to sing a different one,” said Lúthien in a tone that was half curious and half patronizing. “Besides, we didn't really have time until recently. At least we didn't have anything to measure its passing. Maybe except me and Daeron maturing. Hey! This is a change. Cherries blooming, bushes growing — that's progress. Walks in the woods—” she put the last idea into action, leaving the glade.

Finrod joined her and they went between the tall beeches, on the forest floor filled with violets and niphredili. “A song about nature never really reaches any destination. Flowers grow and die, and then new ones come to life. It's not a true change.”

“You can't simply replace a rose with another, or a yesteryears’ snowdrop with the next springs’ one. Hmmm, you're a Noldo, you do not know flowers well enough to notice them, so maybe you could. But even then: we do change. We grow. I was a child and now I'm a woman.”

Finrod didn't reply and for a while they just walked.

“You need songs that are about sorrow, don't you?” asked Lúthien softly. “Due to— your king and all that.”

“And all of that… Yes. I think we do. We do need art which promises a change mightier than just the turn of seasons, which tells us that the darkness may one day end and makes it almost— makes it possible to believe. And to achieve this, you do need to start with the darkness.”

“I was born in darkness, dear cousin. Under the stars,” she said, gesturing at the sky, but the moon’s narrow crest peeking between the branches spoiled her reference. 

“I mean a different kind of darkness, sweet child of the stars. Deeper. Not a darkness that never saw light, but darkness that saw light and—” Finrod shivered. “Darkness that comes after the light is gone, not before it's born. Darkness without a single star to break it.”

“I don't think I can imagine it. Still, I'm sure there is a way to sing interesting songs without making them all about violence.”

“Not all conflict is violence.”

“But it's all— you, Noldor, absolutely love to argue. We try to understand each other instead.” 

“So do I.” 

They awoke a sleeping deer at a distance, but it didn't run away like most beasts of Beleriand used to, it only watched them cautiously.

“Well, this is true, you don't argue that much. Anyway, maybe that's it. When people meet and get to know each other more, it also grows in time. And it means more than flowers.”

“Maybe. Is that how you see art here in Doriath?”

“No. As Daeron sees it, the supreme art is: you see a thing. Then you see another thing. Then you see them together in a way that awakens new meanings in both of them. And then you weave all that into words with enough alliteration. The same with music: you play a motive, then another motive, and then you marry them to each other. This makes the verse, the chorus and the ending.”

They entered a denser part of the forest and now walked a narrow path, surrounded by blackberries, bushes and ferns.

“What if the motives don't fit together?”

“He would say it means you're a mediocre musician. But… I think if they don't fit you need to find a way to force them. Or, rather, help them. Change one or the other into a different mode. Or change the tuning. Or keep playing the harp but add singing to it and tell everyone that it had been your plan since the beginning.”

“You can't change the rules of art.”

“What force is going to forbid me?”

Finrod laughed. “I don't think it's that easy, but maybe you are right. Maybe there is a way to reconcile both of our ideas. To create art that is not boring, but not violent either. But I do not know where to even start looking for inspiration.” Right now, the bushes clinging to his clothing and pulling on the delicate embroidery weren't particularly inspiring. 

“You always seek something, wandering here and there. I'm sure you will find a lot of wonderful inspiration.”

“Don't you want to travel?”

“Oh, I love to travel!” said Lúthien in a laughing voice. “But in Doriath you can discover wonders too! Maybe the same answers that you seek far away I'll find in here. Or maybe we'll both find sorrow.”

Finrod blinked. That had been a strange turn of the conversation, but not the first of them. “I don't think beauty can exist without sorrow.”

“Then should I wish sorrow beyond measure for both of us?”

“That would be a very Noldorin approach to art, wouldn't it?” he asked half-jesting, but curious.

“Sorrow and strife aren't the same.”

“How are they not? Sorrow is born from loss, and loss is born from violence.”

“When I was a child, I cried about clouds disappearing, because I knew I'd never see any of them again. And yet nobody took them away from me by force. And I wouldn't fight for the clouds, as that would make no sense. So I remembered them. But it's not really the same.”

As Lúthien spoke, they entered a small clearing and, as if responding to her, a small cloud hid the moon and hung above them, backlined with silver. A few others passed nearby: fuzzy dark shapes, but not as dark as— Finrod looked away from the sky, back at the princess.

“You could see clouds in the starlight?”

“Of course. Can't you?” She looked back at him with wide eyes.

“Not with enough detail to miss them. I never looked much into the sky anyway, not back then.”

They left the clearing. The forest was even darker now, but there was a peace to it.

“You Noldor are so strange. I wish I would know you better.”

“I wish I could understand you better too.”

“I have an idea.” Without saying more, Lúthien led him to a small grassy hill, not even as tall as the surrounding trees. A narrow path went upwards. “I'll show you another way in which we entertain ourselves here—well, I do— but first tell me, cousin, what would you want if you could wish for anything?”

“To meet my loved ones again,” said Finrod quietly. “I'm not sure how this would happen, unless— but even then… I'm sorry. You deserve better than hearing about any of that.”

“Only so little?” Lúthien laughed, though it felt forced. “I want everything! I want a love like my parents’, but let it be even more so. I want songs to be sung about me— not only by Daeron — songs that even to you would sound interesting. I want to behold the most beautiful treasure in the world. I want to be free and to fly. I want to sing a song mightier than my mother’s. I want to seek a star and wear it as a trinket. I want—” She paused as they reached the top. “No, now it's your turn. What would you want if you could ask for anything?”

“I want there to be a solution to all that.”

“All what?”

He looked away. “All the darkness I won't trouble you with.”

“If you won't, surely someone else will.”

“Even so, I shall not.”

“Then try not to trouble yourself with it either, at least for now. Only look.” Lúthien lied on the hillside and tumbled down, like a log, if logs could laugh loudly. 

She rose from the grass at the bottom and began walking back. “You are humble and I do ask for so much. But it's alright if I can't have any of that. I'm not stubborn. Well, I am not as stubborn as some believe. But if I can, I do want all of my wishes to come true. And I want to travel. To see strange lands beyond stormy seas, cities both old and young and alien, new countries my mother never knew, never dreamed of… To have my home there. I hope I will not miss her too much.”

“You know such places may not even exist. Except maybe one—” Finrod shivered at the very thought, even though they were miles South from there and under Melian’s Girdle. “—but nobody would ever go there of their own will, especially not someone like you, sweet princess. And about all other lands your mother could surely tell you. After all—” 

Lúthien waved her hand dismissively. “Yes, she saw the world before it was born and sang it into being. It's boring how everybody keeps reminding me about that. But she is also my mother. Of course I desire to reach beyond her, that's how it is with mother's and daughters. Also, how would you know there's no place unknown for her, Noldo? You've barely seen any of Beleriand, and yet you try to tell me how the world is?” Her words were a challenge, but her tone was friendly.

Finrod bowed his head. “That is true. Neither of us have seen much yet. But if you ever find such a place…”

The princess stood next to him again, picking leaves of grass from her hair. “I will surely show it to you. Though you could probably wish for a better guide.” 

Finrod smiled, remembering the chaotic string of excited tangents that the last few days have been. “Many things could be better, your guidance isn't by far the first of them. And anyway I am really glad to be here with you, Lúthien. You are very kind and fascinating. And I'm honored to learn the customs of your people.”

“Like tumbling from tops of hills? It's not a very Noldo—”

“That's the point.” Finrod lay on the grass and let the steepness of the terrain pull him down. 

It felt only half as bumpy as he'd expected, and in its strange, wild way liberating.