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majosullivan · 3 days ago

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Annabel, Duke and Pluto: Similarities Between Conflicting Parties

We're now well into Nevermore Season Two, and having been in the mood to word vomit about this topic for far too long now, it’s finally time that I went into some thoughts I’ve been having about Annabel, Duke and Pluto.

As Lenore’s love interest and closest companions respectively, there was always going to be a lot of interest in the dynamic between Annabel and the boys, and with Annabel’s involvement with putting Duke behind the wall and especially Duke and Pluto’s murder attempt, the dynamic between these three is going to be fascinating to see develop onwards. Any further interactions between them are going to be tense and any further conflict between them is going to be personal, and with Duke currently being in possession of Chekhov’s gun in letter form, a possible need for them to cooperate with each other might be coming up sooner than any of them could ever expect.

I bring all of this up because, with the information we have presently, Annabel might be able to add two more people to what might as well a growing collection of ‘I fear only a few people have truly ever understood me and i fucking hate the guys’, with Annabel sharing noticeable similarities with Duke and Pluto, as well as both potential and actual key factors in their respective deaths.

Duke and Annabel

Oh Duke and Annabel...from a comedic shove out of the way during the maze, to both of them being involved with a plan to kill the other in their first week at Nevermore. These two are so much fun to delve into, and their building similarities is going to make the inevitable need for them to work together so much sweeter. Before we get into the big one, here’s a few that I wanted to give a quick mention to:

Association with blue

In classic Romeo and Juliet fashion, Lenore and Annabel have clear colours associated with them and their family, with Annabel being commonly associated with blue, with some additional cold colours mixed in. Keeping this detail in mind, it was very interesting to see that two of the main colours in Duke’s spectre design were purple, a colour we’ve mainly seen him in through his dressing gown, and blue. Particularly with Duke’s spectre being revealed during the Cellar arc, having Duke and Annabel be connected with a shared colour can both highlight their equal importance to Lenore, as well as emphasise the split that resulted from the reveal that Annabel was the one that suggested Duke be the one that the acolytes trapped behind the wall.

Performers

Performance holds particularly significance to both of them, although in very different manners.

Duke made a career out of performing while he was alive, appearing to be a successful one to boot. While his status as a performer was only confirmed in episode 72, Duke’s passion for the stage was easy to see early on, from his dramatics, his mannerisms and his attempt to encourage Pluto in episode 17 to name a few examples. Since we only have one flashback for Duke at this moment, it is difficult to speculate the possible extent his profession affected his personal life while he was alive, but considering how he died…might be something we want to put a pin in for a later time.

While Annabel doesn’t share the same attachment to the literal stage, performance is something that runs deep throughout her life and her time at Nevermore. To use her own wording ‘everything in life is an act’.

Annabel spent her whole life presenting herself as the perfect high society lady, having to consistently conceal any feelings that would be seen as improper in fear that she would be considered mad. This survival tactic continued to be a necessary tool to Annabel even after her death, with the academy being structured in such a manner to encourage conflict, deceit and violence among the students. Funny how Annabel has had to perform throughout her life and even needed to perform an encore after she’s six feet under, while the literal performer has had more opportunities to exist authentically.

Relationship with Lenore

Especially after the events of the Cellar arc, Lenore’s respective relationships with Annabel and Duke and what they have represented for Lenore’s desire to escape with the misfits and Annabel are ripe for picking when it comes to analysis. Keeping the focus on Annabel and Duke, they obviously both care deeply for Lenore, but it’s interesting to see their unknowingly shared sentiments when it comes to her:

-Both sharing the belief that Lenore is able to make anything possible (special note goes to my lovely friend likeastars for this point)

-Both encouraging Lenore not to place unnecessary guilt on herself

-Their reactions to Montresor's comment about Lenore's 'hysteria'

-Then of course, we have...

Betrayal

With those similarities sorted though, time to get into the big one: both Annabel’s and Duke’s deaths were the result of a betrayal.

In order for her manifest, Annabel was informed that she was murdered, being, as all Nevermore theorists know by heart at this point, ‘betrayed by the one who loved you above all else else’. Considering this description was given to her by the deans, and we as an audience are privy to the knowledge that the deans were making an active attempt to separate Lenore and Annabel by making Annabel manifest the way she did, it would be fair to take this wording for a hint of salt. For example, there's the possibility that the one who murdered Annabel and the one who betrayed her are two different people. However, considering that this description did make Annabel manifest, I believe the reliability of this description is acceptable for the time being.

In episode 83, we see that Duke died in a sabotaged water torture cell, with Duke desperately attempting to call for help when he discovered the top of the cell wouldn't move, only for his assistant to cover up Duke’s distress as a part of the act before turning around to smirk at Duke as the curtain went down.

This similarity between their deaths is intriguing by itself, but as BlacknedSoul pointed out in one of their wonderful posts, how they have reacted to these betrayals and how it has currently affected their relationships in Nevermore is really fascinating to compare.

Specific discussion around who shot Annabel is going to be saved for a later section in this post, but while the identity of Annabel’s murderer and what exactly happened are important for further understanding Annabel’s headspace while in the academy, the main factor at hand remains unchanged: Annabel was betrayed. A betrayal that led to her death. Annabel felt close enough to this person, trusted this person enough, that their actions were a betrayal to her, and with our current knowledge about Annabel while she was alive, the number of people that could possibly fit this description is already incredibly low as it is.

As we have clearly seen throughout season one, this betrayal has had a significant impact on Annabel’s willingness to trust anyone outside of Lenore, claiming that everyone would turn against them if they learnt about their scheme when Lenore questions why she couldn’t let Duke and Pluto in on their plans during episode 28. Though a level of caution is more than understandable given their current situation, Annabel’s mistrust appears to go beyond this. That betrayal is not a possibility but a certainty. While she has made some progress, with her desiring to have a genuine friendship with Prospero and everything that has currently happened in the Wild Hunt arc, Annabel’s fear of the possible consequences of letting anyone in on her and Lenore’s plan cannot be more clearly emphasised than it is in episode 98.

Lenore attempts to tell Duke the truth about her and Annabel as a final resort to prevent Duke and Pluto from killing Annabel, and Annabel looks on at her in absolute terror. Her life is currently being threatened, she is possibly moments away from falling to her death, and yet all her fear is focused on Lenore's attempt to confess.

She immediately does what she can to stop Lenore in her tracks, yelling out that ‘I won’t let you get away from this!’ before attempting to drag Duke over the railings with her. I don't think this can be emphasised enough, Annabel would literally prefer to fall to her death than have Lenore tell Duke to truth. She is so positive that there would be irrecoverable negative consequences to the misfits learning the truth that death would be a preferable option to her.

We don’t know the extent of Duke’s relationship with his assistant at the moment, nor his exact motivations for having Duke killed. Hell, we don’t even know their name. However, it appears Duke at the very least had a level of trust in him, considering that our unnamed man was in the position of Duke’s assistant in the first place. As per the role of an assistant, he would be entrusted with preparations for all of Duke's acts, acts that would put Duke's life at risk if something were to go wrong. Duke had entrusted his safety in his assistant’s hands, and what does his assistant do? He takes advantage of his position, and gets him killed.

Despite what happened to him, it doesn’t appear that his death has negatively impacted his ability to trust others in the same manner it has for Annabel. We can see through his relationships with Lenore, Pluto and the rest of the misfits that he’s still quite open to forming connections and trusting relationships with others, far more than Annabel originally showed. Even after what happened between him and Lenore in episodes 98 and 99, something that occurred after he remembered how he died and could cause him to have more caution going forward, he still has complete faith in Lenore's abilities and is the first person to take part in the blood oath after Lenore. While he is comparingly more open to others than Annabel, that doesn’t mean that Duke is completely free of caution or is immediately welcoming when it comes to others. There are some small examples that illustrate this, such as him underestimating and being willing to ditch Pluto in the maze before Pluto showed he was much more capable than Lenore and Duke originally gave him credit for, as well as him being hesitant about Berenice and Eulalie first joining them when they went to look for a hideout. The main example here though this how he cautions Lenore about how she interacts with certain people in the academy. We see this most when referring to Annabel and Ada.

Through Duke's cautioning, episode 38 provide us with this important scene:

Duke appeared to end up the victim of a manipulator. He put his trust in the wrong person and it ended up getting him killed. While he might no remember the details of his death at the time of this scene, one of the last things he would want is for someone important to him to go through such an experience.

When Lenore's and Annabel's connection is revealed to the misfits, there is no way these experiences of betrayal aren't at least touched on, and with the topics discussed in the next section of these post, deep experiences of broken trusts are not going to stop there.

Pluto and Annabel

When it comes to Annabel and Pluto, while we have some fun surface level similarities, such as them both being English while coming from very different backgrounds and regions of England, there are two main similarities I want to dig into: the complexities in their relationships with their fathers and the current absence of their mothers.

Relationship With Their Fathers

We haven’t seen too much from both their fathers, with Ira, Annabel’s father, appearing in three episodes and Pluto’s father only appearing in one. Nevertheless, they have left us a good amount to chew on in very different ways.

When it comes to Annabel and her father, I don’t doubt that the two dearly love each other, with one of Annabel’s first concerns after Lenore presents her plan to elope and run away to her being what would become of her father, and Ira being shown to take great pride in his daughter. However, we can quickly see problems in their relationship start to present themselves when Ira reacts to Annabel’s panic attack. We’ve seen that Ira is someone that places great importance in appearances and maintaining advantageous relationships. Some prime example of this can be seen with him arranging a suitable husband for Annabel in case no one can beat her by the end of her third social season and the reasoning behind Annabel meeting with Lenore in the first placing being that Ira wished to know Lenore’s father better. With this starting to be established even before Ira made his first appearance, it should be of little surprise that Ira is quick to dismiss Annabel's panic attack, something that mind you, was brought on when Annabel learnt that someone she seemingly spent time with on a daily basis for six months died in a terrible house fire.

No matter what love Ira does have for Annabel, this concern surrounding appearances and what he believes is best for Annabel ultimately dismisses and neglects Annabel’s emotional needs. There can be discussions around how much of his reaction here is motivated by his concerns about preserving his image, in comparison with possible concerns about the consequences Annabel could face if someone else caught her in such a state, but the way Ira switches to calling Annabel by her name back to calling her ‘dearest’ once Annabel has ‘calmed’ herself is very telling.

When it comes to Pluto and his father…honestly I think I can just gesture in the direction of episode 83 and any point I could make about how fucked that relationship is will be well enough illustrated.

To further discuss though, there is the popular idea that Pluto’s father could have been a decent/good parent before WWI, with the aftermath sending him into a downward spiral and alcoholism, lining up with details provided to us about the narrator in ‘The Black Cat’, the short story Pluto is inspired from. I think this is very likely, especially when considering all the problems soldiers faced after returning from WWI. While this undoubtedly adds more possible tragic to Pluto and his father’s relationship, until we get confirmation of this idea, any further discussion on their relationship will be limited.

The real thing that gets me about their relationships with their fathers isn’t just the complicated nature of them, it’s how they can be tied to their deaths. Although we don’t have the complete details on Pluto’s and Annabel’s death as of yet, we do have enough to make some informed guesses, and it just so happens that with these informed guesses, their fathers are either inescapably tied to their deaths in the best case scenario, or are the ones who murdered them in the worst.

We currently have three main suspects for the person who shot Annabel: Lenore, Annabel’s childhood friend and Ira. Discussion and analysis of each of these suspects really deserves a dedicated post of its own, so I am going to keep this as brief as I can.

Despite the evidence mounted against her, I have a lot of doubts about it being Lenore. There are a number of details that don’t appear to completely fit if that was the case, with the prime one being that we know the deans were actively trying to separate Annabel and Lenore when they told Annabel how she died, and those memories greatly suggest Lenore was the one who shot Annabel. While those scenes in episode 91 would otherwise be a slam dunk, knowing about the Deans' manipulation highly suggest that either Lenore wasn't the one that shot Annabel, or the events that occurred are much more complicated than those panels would lead us to believe.

Next, we have Annabel’s childhood friend. While the details episode 42 provided about him definitely stood out enough for me to put a pin in him for the time being, the fact that we haven’t to met him yet and there currently being no further reference of him since episode 42, it’s harder to make a solid case about him being the one that shot Annabel. There’s also important consideration needed to whether Annabel would be close enough with/have enough trust in him that his actions would be considered a betrayal. Given the way she described him, it doesn’t seem likely at the moment.

Finally, we have Ira. Given what we know about him, there is a strong case to be made against him. He could both believably fit the description of ‘the one that loved you above all else’, as well as have his actions be seen as a betrayal in Annabel’s eyes. Furthermore, with what we discussed about him before, it wouldn't be hard to put together a motivation for him. If/when White Raven’s plan was exposed, it isn't too hard to believe that he would shoot both of them in a desperate attempt to cover everything up and preserve his image. I could see him believing it as a kinder fate for Annabel than if she survived. Rather than being seen as a mad woman, institutionalised for trying to run off with a other woman, she could be seen as a poor victim, manipulated by a violent criminal and losing her life because of their wicked schemes (totally not covering up for the shame he would face if the public were to discover the truth, why would you even think that?). Even if Ira doesn’t end up as the one to pull the trigger, there is no way that he wasn’t at least involved in the events that led up to Annabel’s death. He can been seen chaperoning Annabel and 'Leo''s walk through the rose garden, he is friends with Lenore's father and him and Annabel were staying with the damn Vandernachts during the social season. There is no way that he wasn't involved with the discovery of White Raven's plan.

Pluto’s death is much easier to break down in comparison to Annabel. We know that Pluto felt relieved in his final moments and that, judging by how his spectre first manifested, he likely died by hanging.

Taking these factors in combination with the plot of ‘The Black Cat’ and what we currently know about Pluto’s home environment, there are two main theories on how Pluto died. Either Pluto committed suicide or his father murdered him. I don’t believe I have anything specific to further support one theory over the other, but I think I'm currently leaning towards his father killing him at the moment. Like with Ira though, given the…well everything about Pluto’s father, even if he didn’t murder him, there is no doubt in my mind that he was at least involved with what happened to Pluto.

Current Absence of Their Mothers

Currently, Annabel's and Pluto's mothers have yet to appear in the series. Now, you can fairly point this out as being a bit of a stretch. After all, the only characters so far to have both their parents shown to us are the Vandernacht siblings. Why should the absence of their mothers pose particular interest compared to the absence of Prospero's father for example? I have two reasons for this.

The first reason concerns how the absence of their mothers could have impacted the relationships Annabel and Pluto have with their fathers. While this hasn't been confirmed, the absence of their mothers clearly implies one thing: neither of them are in the picture anymore. If this is the case, that leaves us with the big question of 'why?'. I would place a bet on them both being dead, but we obviously don't have anything that could confirm or deny this at the moment. However, how and when their mothers left the picture would undoubtedly effect how the two's relationships with their fathers would have developed. For example, I would imagine there would be noticeable differences in Pluto and his father's relationship depending on if his mother died before, during or after WWI.

The second reason is that there are certain details about Annabel and Pluto, both in the webtoon and the work they were inspired from, that suggest that their mothers will have a decent amount of importance in their backstories.

Annabel's Mother

The current status of Annabel’s mother has to be one of the things I'm most intrigued about when it comes to the casts' backstories. While there isn’t a particular character from Annabel’s poem that we could draw from to speculate on her personality, the themes surrounding Annabel's story, and especially two key aspects of Annabel’s character, could both inform what Annabel’s mother was like and the impact she could have had on Annabel.

The first aspect I'm referring to is Annabel’s view on becoming a matriarch. As stated in episode 42, Annabel considered getting married and becoming a lady of the house death, that card games would be one of the only things that could stave off the building madness as she’s forced to go through the motions expected from such a role, with particular emphasis on needlepoint, needlepoint, the goddamned needlepoint. This stance naturally feels like something that could have been impacted by how Annabel saw her mother and how her mother acted, especially with Annabel having such a distinct distain for needlepoint. For example, it’s possible that Annabel’s mother was similar to what we've seen of Lucille, Lenore’s mother. Being lifeless around the house, constantly doing needlepoint to pass the time.

The second aspect I'm referring to is Annabel’s fear of going mad. We first delve into Annabel's fear during episode 66, where we received these important scenes:

We currently don’t know when this fear started to surface, however, in combination with her mother's absence and the knowledge that Annabel has been experiencing panic attacks since she was younger, there's the possibility that this fear is at least partially rooted in how her mother was treated, if she was seen as 'hysteric', and/or treatment and teaching from her mother when Annabel was experiencing a panic attack.

Until we learn anything about Annabel's mother, all we can really do is speculate, but with everything we current know about Annabel, there is the potential for some compelling and tragic reveals.

Pluto's Mother

With Pluto’s mother, she is particularly interesting since she actually has a character from Pluto’s story that she could be drawn from: the narrator’s wife.

In ‘The Black Cat’, the narrator states that he married early, expressing the following about his wife throughout the short story:

‘my wife, who at heart was not a little tinctured with superstition, made frequent allusion to the ancient popular notion, which regarded all black cats as witches in disguise. Not that she was ever serious upon this point’

‘my wife, who, as I have already said, possessed, in a high degree, that humanity of feeling which had once been my distinguishing trait, and the source of many of my simplest and purest pleasures’

‘[from the sudden, frequent, and ungovernable outbursts of a fury to which I now blindly abandoned myself], my uncomplaining wife, alas! was the most usual and the most patient of sufferers’

When the narrator attempts to kill the second black cat with an axe, his wife stops him, with the narrator killing her instead. The narrator then hides her body behind a brick wall in their cellar.

Now, do I think Pluto’s mother met the same fate as the narrator’s wife in the Black Cat? No. It currently seems very unlikely that she would have met the exact same fate for following reasons:

1) The narrator’s wife dies after the first cat loses his eye and is killed, and from the limited amount we’ve seen, Pluto’s mother already appears to be out of the picture when Pluto loses his eye.

2) Aspects from this part of Pluto’s story have been used during the cellar arc. In ‘The Black Cat’, the narrator uses a crow bar to dislodge bricks from the wall in order to hide his wife’s body, and we see Pluto also use a crow bar while trying to dislodge the bricks that are keeping Duke trapped. Furthermore, when the police came to the house in search of the narrator’s missing wife, the second cat alerts both to the body’s location, with the police tearing down the wall to reveal that the second cat had been walled in with the body. This event can be linked to how Pluto was the one that helped Duke finally manifest, allowing him to escape the wall.

3) If Pluto’s mother was murdered by his father, who then hid her body behind a wall, I think this information would have been revealed to us during the Cellar arc. Unless Pluto never found out about it (which holy shit, I don’t think I would want him to find out if that ends up to be the case), you would think such a specific event like ‘a group of people trapping one of your closest friends behind a wall and leaving them to die’ would spark up some memories about what would hypothetically be one of the most traumatic experiences of your life.

Placing her current status to the side for now, the fact that Pluto's mother has a character she could be drawn definitely, at least in my eyes, increases the chances that she is going some make some appearance in the future. Furthermore, if we were to use descriptions of the narrator's wife to speculate what Pluto's mother was like, it lines up quite well with what we've seen from Pluto, with special mention being able to be given to his name.

During episode 103, when Eulalie asks Pluto about knowing the myths surrounding Charon, he replies with 'My name is "Pluto"'. It was interesting to see mentioned, since while we know on a meta level that Pluto gets his name from the short story he's inspired from, 'Pluto' is far from a name you would expect from an English man born to a working class family some time in the 1900s.

Both his name and knowledge on mythology could suggest that mythology was an interest of one or both of his parents, and with the narrator's wife being 'at heart was not a little tinctured with superstition', I could totally see Pluto getting his name from his mother.

What could this mean going forward?

So, with all of this covered, how could it potentially be used in the story going forward?

It's hard to say when Annabel will be interacting with either of the boys next, but with her swearing that they will regret trying to kill her, it isn't going to be pretty if Lenore isn't around. Most significantly though, we have the inevitable reveal to the misfits that Lenore and Annabel knew each other while they were alive and have been working together.

With a literal letter that details Lenore's and Annabel's relationship being in play, no matter if Lenore does or does not 'die' during this arc, there is no way that letter isn't getting read by someone, whether it is by Duke or by a completely different party.

Taking into account what we have discussed and current tension between Annabel's group and the misfits, there is no way this reveal is going to go smoothly for anyone, since just to quickly review, we have:

Annabel - has shown that she is willing to die if it means preventing her and Lenore's secret from being revealed.

Duke - died because his assistant betrayed him.

Pluto - got blinded in one of his eyes by someone he should have been able to trust.

Throw in the rest of the misfits and we have a time bomb of emotions waiting to explode, with many of them having experiences that could more than understandably make them react more poorly than they might have if they knew sooner.

If Lenore wishes to achieve the best possible outcome from this reveal, then I can only hope she realise that, especially after both Duke and Annabel nearly dying, keeping these secrets is only going to make things worse in the long run. The longer she hides her relationship with Annabel, the worse the misfits' reactions could potentially be, and if she doesn't explain to Annabel why she believes telling the misfits the truth is necessary, Annabel has shown she is willing to go to extreme lengths to protect their secret.

Even if the reveal goes as smooth as it could, actually working together is going to be a massive work in progress. We know that they have common ground that they could connect with, but when and how they would actually see that...only time will tell.

#nevermore #nevermore webtoon #webtoon nevermore #annabel lee whitlock #annabel lee nevermore #nevermore duke #duke nevermore #pluto nevermore #nevermore pluto

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ihopesocomic · 2 days ago

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Y'know, ravens and crows could make for some good messangers if the two can come to a kind of deal. Symbiosis, or sorts. The lions can point out corpses before anything else gets to it (ones that already have been ripped into by lions or hyenas or what have you, as birds with beaks not suited to poke into carcasses will actually wait for others such as vultures to get started), point them to good spots for nesting, point them to places that have good pickings for things like fruits and berries... Meanwhile, the crow/ravens can relay messages, scout out good targets to hunt, warn them of things in advance, and even act as a translator between hyenas or other species with the biological language barrier in times of need and diplomacy.

Of course, that all falls on the trust and cooperation in both parties, and such a thing can be cut off at any time. Though, lions should be wise not to threaten or piss off the crows/ravens, as they hold grudges and can use their skills against them if they see fit!! It's a risky business but very rewarding if everything goes well enough.

I dunno, just spitballin on that concept y'all had.

It was a dropped concept for a reason haha we settled that non-felids, while they have their own languages, cannot speak lion. Crows and ravens can't actually speak. They can mimic noises and that's as far as a lion can understand them. If you want to use this concept for yourself, you're more than welcome to, but in terms of IHS canon, it wouldn't work as smoothly as say. Hazel and Kehaar in Watership Down, where Keharr was just speaking in broken English but they could otherwise understand each other perfectly well. - Cat

#ask #ask us stuff #cat answers

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beeseverywhen · 2 years ago

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Not in the US so can't speak for what's happening there, but I've def noticed here that healthcare workers are struggling with dealing with sicker patients than they felt they were getting before covid and lots of them are mentioning a lack of immunity thanks to lockdowns. every time I hear it I can't help but think that the increasing desperation thanks to years of underfunding that's really beginning to have an impact since covid (because the pandemic served as the last straw on the camels back there AND because it showed our government that they could neglect the vulnerable to the degree that they were dying by the thousands and still nobody bothered to blame them.) Is a contributing factor in this and I don't understand why nobody is mentioning it???

We're getting sick because we've spent decades being bled dry and now we're hungry, stressed and being worked to the bone. Meanwhile we aren't getting any kind of return on the money we're pumping in to the healthcare system and our governments aren't doing shit to address health inequalities or any of the factors contributing to everyone's poor health.

If you look at covid death statistics, if you look at which countries are currently suffering from supply problems; a job market bursting with unfilled vacancies, civil unrest and protests, strained healthcare systems, and all the rest; the countries at the top are those that have allowed capitalism to call the shots for the past century, more than the rest. That is why the UK and America have been so badly impacted. Its no accident that we are paying so heavily, this system started with us. We forced it on the rest of the world and now, we're the first to pay the price. There is a direct correlation between the impact being felt post covid and a countries wealth divide and I'm tired of everyone ignoring that.

I look around me and People are going hungry, the food they can afford to buy is lacking in basic nutrients, of course people are sicker! Even if you can afford them, the shops keep running out of vegetables! Our health system was already breaking and then, we were hit by a pandemic it was completely unprepared for (tho it should have been) and now, people are getting way more ill than they need to before they finally reach hospital. When they get there, the hospitals are understaffed (thanks to years of underfunded budgets and the extreme stress so many health care workers were put under), we keep having drug shortages because our country keep straight up refusing to pay how much things cost, and what they are willing to pay, goes to pay about ten profiteering middle men at each stage of the supply chain.

People are massively stressed thanks to the cumulative weight of a completely broken capitalist system and those in charge are more worried about lining their pockets for as long as they can until the whole thing collapses, rather than actually trying to address any problems. Stress IS something that's known to weaken immune systems so why are we blaming something that MAY affect them??? Extreme rises in energy costs have meant everyone's spent a winter without adequate heating (even those that can afford it are revolting at the increase and so are trying to cut costs by using less energy.) Again, insufficiently heated homes are also known to affect immunity. And that's just the people who still have safe homes! Masses of people have been made homeless recently thanks to rising rents and mortgages which were already unaffordable, our housing stock is largely dangerous, with homes falling in to disrepair because landlords are barely regulated and when they do break laws they go unprotected.

Is anyone surprised that so many people are getting so ill and not getting better? Cause I'm not.

It's startlingly obvious when you start looking at the health divide between those who have spent 40 years subject to the whims of poorly restricted capitalism and those able to opt out. Medical technology is improving, but healthy life expectancy is now dropping year on year, because there are more people living here without the capital to turn away from jobs that will break them, than there are those whose inherited wealth opens doors away from employers that'll ask you to pay the price of bodily health, so they might strengthen profit margins. Its just basic averages. 1% of our citizens are standing on the backs of 99% of us and wondering why more and more of that 99% are getting sicker and sicker. The labour market for working class people has been allowed to drain its workers dry for years now. The progress made in the early to mid 20th century has slowly been worn away at, with the labour laws we fought for, only being accessible for an ever decreasing number of people. The laws are still in place but no low wage employer bothers to follow them any more than they have to. Do you know how many people I know who've been working without breaks, going unpaid for extra hours, been forced to follow unsafe working practices that they know are illegal and then being forced to lie to protect the employer that put them in that position? The people being broken by companies raking in billions, as they flaunt labour laws, don't have any means to access justice! If you complain, you lose your job. If you take them to court that costs money and that company is willing to drag out proceedings for years till you run out of the money needed to keep things going.

When i look at how much money is being wasted in government budgets, while the people responsible for making that money, see little return; I can't help but think of various theories for why certain societies in history have collapsed. (If you want to be really worried about the state of things, read the Wikipedia page on societal collapse. Spoiler: most of the potential causes of societal collapse have already begun in America and the UK. That guy who wrote that article saying America was already past the point of collapse might have been right.) One theory behind the bronze age collapse is just that... societies became too complex. A society where the 1% are given too much power over the 99% becomes one great big pyramid scheme. Unnecessary burecracy at every level (designed to squeeze as much wealth possible for the person overseeing that level) results in those at the bottom, working themselves to death and still going hungry. The theory goes that there comes a point, in societies like that, where the workers look at how they are living and just...walk away. They decide that the security once offered by that society isn't worth what it's costing them and fuck off to become farmers, preferring a life of hard work and little security, to what they had been living. Without the workers, the system breaks down. The only people getting fed are the ones growing the food. All this stupid stratification. Allowing every supply chain, business and institution to become unnecessarily complex just so on each level the people in charge can let their mates get a foot in on the profits. All these middlemen. Business consultants. Supply chains allow for a product to be sent back and forth from country to country just so more people get a cut. Its no different to any other pyramid scheme so why the hell are we allowing it.

We need to start telling our politicians to show some goddamn accountability for this shit. Stop accepting them skirting responsibility for being at best: Inept and at worst deliberately negligent. We all need to stop supporting a system that's hurting us all. In the hope that we might be one of the lucky ones. That's not the reality of things. We'll only get out of this hole we've inadvertently dug ourselves in to, if we stop fighting each other and work together to demand change.

You know how sometimes you catch someone in a lie, and so they tell an even bigger lie to try and cover up the first lie they told?

Well, that’s happening right now.

Last winter, a handful of celebrity doctors went on mainstream news networks to assure us that Omicron was “mild.” They carpet-bombed us with articles and tweets, doing their best to brainwash everyone.

They were wrong.

In the end, real science junked that idea. An article in the Journal of the American Medical Association showed that Omicron killed more people than previous variants, even when adjusting for other factors. Another study by doctors at Massachusetts General and Harvard Medical found that Omicron was just as deadly. In fact, “the risks of hospitalization and mortality were nearly identical.” As it turns out, the entire idea of “mild” Omicron was based on an old, flawed idea known as the law of declining virulence, developed by a doctor who was studying tick-borne disease in cows. It was debunked decades ago.

Most epidemiologists know that viruses don’t magically evolve to become milder. Virus evolution is random and chaotic.

In some cases, viruses evolve to become more deadly.

A handful of actual scientists tried to explain all this last winter, including disease experts at Johns Hopkins. A handful of other established experts spoke out against this myth. As a microbiologist at Penn State told Politifact, “You can’t just say it’s going to become nicer.” They were largely ignored, because everyone already sort of believed the misinformation. If they knew it was based on a study about cows, they probably would’ve thought twice.

This year, the makers of “it’s mild” are back.

They’re selling “immunity debt.”

We should be skeptical.

Schools and daycares are sending letters home to parents talking about this “immunity debt.” They’re saying that healthy children are getting sicker, even dying, because they weren’t exposed to enough germs over the last two years. Newspapers and TV stations across the country are running with it, proposing it as a “possible reason” for this year’s explosion in pediatric hospitalizations. Meanwhile, major medical organizations have sent a letter to President Biden urging him to declare an emergency over an “alarming surge of pediatric hospitalizations” due to a range of respiratory viruses, including Covid.

A lot of people are drinking the “immunity debt” kool-aid.

After all, Americans have believed for generations that getting sick is “good for you.” We think our immune system behaves like a muscle. We worry that if we’re not giving it a workout, we’ll get weak.

It’s a myth, just like the law of declining virulence.

Here’s why.

#to be clear #i do not think that the answer is waiting for a violent revolution #this is far from the first time humans have found ourselves in this kind of mess. if we look at all the times this has happened in the past #well. on that scale the French revolution may as well have been yesterday and look what's literally happening in france rn #killing the 1% has absolutely no lasting impact and the cost to get there? is mostly shouldered by those that system was opressing #and no. i don't think we should all just walk away from society and become farmers.#i know the current system is breaking us but desperation does not account for logic. most workers do not have the ability to grow a steady #food supply. that's why we built societies in the first place. different people are good at different jobs #here's what i do think: the society we've built belongs to the workers. it's the fruit of our labour #not those who have drawn invisible lines so they might argue that they own our labour. we all need to think about that. when we vote #they are there because we put them there. they know it even if you don't. stop giving power to people without your best interests at heart #the reason workers in france have had a better time of things than in the US till now? their government are scared of them #until now. the French government have had little doubt in the fact that they are where they are. because their people are allowing it #they haven't pushed too hard because they know if they do. theyre gone.#lets bring a bit more of that energy to the rest of the world in 2023. exercise your vote and when they're pushing it. let them know.#our governments are getting militant and trying to prevent protest because they are scared. they know they have little power.#it's the equivalent of a schoolyard bully throwing a punch. in the moment. they seem unstoppable. but they aren't.#there are more of us than them and they need us to cooperate for any of this to work. if we walk away: they have nothing. they know that #there is only one way out of this. that is via slow incremental positive change and not giving any ground when it comes to #the value of human life. while we're fighting each other. we're too damned busy to consider fighting the 1% taking advantage of us all #stop fighting any of the 99% and start acknowledging that if you start helping the people in this with you where you can #(yes even if you don't like them)#the 1% are heavily outnumbered and there's no benefit to any politican who tries to serve them while the 99% know who holds the power #we let this happen. though we didn't know it. but we don't have to keep letting it happen. not if we remember who the real enemy is #start demanding accountability from those sacrificing the good of the many for the few. do what you can to help any one you can and start #expecting the same from everyone else. you don't need to like or agree with people to accept that their life has value and fight with them

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obsessivevoidkitten · 1 year ago

Text

Lox the Fox

Male Yandere Fox Hybrid x Gender Neutral Reader CW: Noncon, somnophilia, implied cum in food, magic, drugging, biting, claiming bites, knotting, manipulation, chasing, kidnapping, general yandere behavior, references to an incident with a sweet potato Word Count: 5.6k (I am so sorry that this comm took so long, though I was dealing with a number of different issues. Hope you all enjoy it!)

You were but a humble trader. Once somewhat prominent in the medium sized town of Ridgespire, humiliating rumors began circulating about being caught in a compromising position with a sweet potato. The totally baseless story spread throughout the entire town. You were a laughing stock. When you could no longer handle it you left for a fresh start and new opportunities.

You decided to set up shop in the town of Westwend. It was a small village now, but you saw some serious potential. It was situated in the center of many newer villages and small towns and would serve as a good hub for you. But the best part about your new home was that it was too far for any pernicious lies about you and a sweet potato to have followed.

The locals were very accepting of you as a new traveling trader, though you hadn't had a chance to get close to any of them. Once you had moved in you immediately began planning your trip through the forest to reach a tiny village on the other side. You'd stop there to rest and see if there were any trade opportunities then head north to a larger town.

You stuffed a huge pack full of food, currency, and trade goods before putting it on and setting off on your journey. The village you were heading for was through several miles of forest and the forest itself was a mile or so away itself. You could be there by evening.

You were warned about an infamous fox-man named Lox that lived in the woods. Supposedly he helped or hindered travelers depending on what mood struck him at the time. The local villagers were always wary about crossing through the forest. That is part of what made this trade route so potentially lucrative. Not many were willing to cut straight through the forest.

The weather was cooperating and making your trip quite pleasant. The morning air was fresh and brought with it the scent of honeysuckle, and other prairie flowers. You took the unused and overgrown path and managed to make it to the woods just before the heat of the day, the dense canopy of leaves providing ample protection from the sun.

Though you didn't know it, you had rapidly crossed into the territory of the fox-man, Lox. And with his magic he knew exactly when any human neared the proximity of what he considered to be his land. He had nothing better to do, and delighted in meddling with humans, so with great grace and dexterity he weaved through the tree tops and quickly came upon you. He used his magic to stay silent and invisible so that he could observe you a while before deciding what to do.

It did not take long for Lox’s careful observation of you to lead him to the conclusion that he was intrigued. He used his magic to peep into some of your thoughts and memories to get just a glimpse of the type of person you were. He saw bits of your travels, vague impressions of your views, and something about a sweet potato. He couldn’t quite make it out to be honest. But it didn’t matter. He could tell from your aura that you were a lonely person with few friends and no current ties to anyone.

He decided that instead of hindering you he was going to help you more than he had ever helped anyone else before you. Not just for your sake, but for his as well. He thought maybe he could be your mate. Though he still needed to get to know you a little better though before he was totally sure. He could only get to know someone so well through his magic, so he really needed a more direct method.

Rather than simply introduce himself, which he was sure would fail, he devised a cunning plan to get you to see him as your hero. First impressions were immensely important, so if your first time seeing him was when he was saving you then that would make it a lot more likely that you would fall for him.

You continued through the forest, laughing to yourself about how easy a trip this was. You couldn’t believe how the small village dwellers had cut themselves off from such an easy trading route just because of some stories about some magic fox guy. You could believe that beast men existed, you had never seen one yourself, but their existence was never refuted, but magic? That was just too much for you.

Belief in the supernatural and heading the warnings of the villagers would have served you well, but instead the trap was laid and you bumbled right into it.

As you continued on the forest path, nearly gone due to disuse, you came across a clearing with a small cabin. It looked wildly out of place in the wilderness. Perhaps this was the home of the fox man all of the villagers had been so wary of. After gawking for a moment you resumed your journey. You had been traveling for hours and were probably halfway through the woods by now.

As you neared an old but sturdy bridge that marked the final leg of your travels through the forest, you heard a bone chilling growl and your path was suddenly blocked by three snarling wolves. You knew you couldn’t fight them, but the cabin that you had passed wasn’t too far. Maybe, just maybe, you could outrun them and take shelter.

Thinking fast you through your pack towards them, hoping the food in it would distract them enough for you to flee to safety. But no such luck. They weren’t distracted by it at all. At least without it you weren’t so weighed down though. But you were tired from all the walking and the wolves were at your heels. You imagined that you could feel their hot sour breath at your back, but you didn’t look back to confirm it.

Just when you were sure that you were going to find your end in the jaws of the ravenous beasts an orange flash came out of the trees from the direction of the house and stood between you and the feral wolves. There was no mistaking it, it was the fox man of local legend.

The hybrid man stood before the wolves with his back towards you, you could see that he was of a lean build and average height with two triangular ears on his head that were the same color as his wavy red hair. And he had a fox-like tail to match the ears.

As confident as he seemed you seriously doubted that he could take on so many enemies at once. And then you saw why he was so confident. A red tinged gust of magic left his hands and blew the wolves several feet away, making them smack into the trees. With a frightened yelp they scattered. You were in awe, magic was real after all!

When Lox turned to face you he could tell right away by the admiration and gratitude in your eyes that he had made the right decision in conjuring the convincing wolf illusions to scare you back towards him.

Normally seeing your first hybrid man may have at least startled you, but when you met his orange eyes and sharp-toothed smile you could only feel relief. You almost wanted to hug the guy.

“Thank you so much! I really thought I was a goner. I have no idea what I would have done had you not shown up when you had…”

Your stomach turned just thinking about it.

“No problem friend, I just happened to be gathering fruit up in the trees when I saw your predicament.”

Now Lox just had to convince you to stay the night with him. Get to know him better. Once you saw how good of a provider he was and how kind he was you would surely fall for him. He just knew it.

“Well uh… I better go and get my things. I dropped them to flee. And then I gotta keep traveling. Thanks again!”

No no no, that wouldn’t do for Lox at all!

“Don’t be silly! Those wolves could be lurking anywhere, you should just stay at my home while I collect your things. You can always set off tomorrow, I will even escort you through the forest!”

Your heart was still beating at an intense pace with adrenaline leaving you shaky. You didn’t really want to just set off alone so soon after such a scare. But you really should set out again, and you had doubts that the wolves would try anything again so soon.

“I really don’t think that I should, if I keep going I can make up for lost time and make the village well before sundown.”

He couldn’t reveal his true intentions yet, but no matter what happened, now that he had taken such a liking to you, he was never going to be far from you.

“Well, those wolves can be pretty persistent, they aren’t really normal. And it would be really nice to have a bit of company. It doesn’t come very often out here. I don’t think that humans like me all that much to tell the truth...”

Lox put on his best pouting face to elicit your sympathy. To be honest he didn’t mind his loner lifestyle one bit. Though he did want just one person in his life. A good partner. And whether or not you wanted it, that partner was going to be you.

His deception worked wonders on you. Instantly you felt immense sympathy for him. He was helping you so much so you should be happy to offer him your company, if just for a day. It wasn’t like it was a great imposition on you. You wouldn’t even be alive right now if not for Lox and all he wanted was a bit of companionship in return. Besides, you really didn’t want to come across as some sort of bigot…

“Well… if you’re sure it won’t be burdensome, I guess I can stay the night. Thanks for the hospitality, but I think I should go with you to get my pack. It would be pretty rude to make you go and get it for me.”

This also wouldn’t do for Lox, he wanted to enchant your belongings to be able to keep tabs on you even if you left his immediate vicinity. He did not want to run the risk of you ever escaping him, he doubted he would be unable to track you, but it was good to be prepared. The spell was rather loud and involved flashes of magic, he couldn’t take the risk that you could wake up and catch him in the act so having you at his house while he went off to do the enchantment on your stuff was his best solution.

“Don’t be silly, I can zip along through the trees much faster than you can walk! It will be much faster if I go alone.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true… Okay, if you really don’t mind getting it for me.” You felt bad that he had done so much for you already and was now doing more, but his logic made sense.

On the way there you introduced yourself and the two of you chatted a bit about how you both got to where you were currently. He explained the tragic tale of how he had been orphaned as a young teen and had to raise himself in the harsh wilds. The two of you were already pretty close to his humble home so it didn’t take long at all for him to lead you there.

The inside was about what you would expect from the home of someone living the lifestyle of a secluded forest hermit. Not messy, but cluttered in a cozy sort of way. Not a lot of open space, every inch utilized in some way. There were some shelves filled with books and various ornaments and objects of unknown purpose, there was a desk in the corner littered with arcane looking scrolls, a small dining area with dried aromatic herbs hanging from the ceiling, and there was a doorless bedroom attached with an equally well stuffed bedroom, you could see a large bed with red covers and more shelves.

Before he went off to get your pack for you he offered you some miniature sandwiches and some tea and set them on a small table for you.

You thanked him as he left and nibbled on the food he had provided you. You were hungrier than you had realized though and before you knew it, there wasn’t a crumb or sip left.

Meanwhile Lox had already located your belongings and busily casting his little spell on your things. He was hoping he could convince you to stay with him, but realistically it could take a few encounters. This would help ensure that those encounters kept happening. He considered it the “dating” phase of your “relationship.”

He also hoped that you would eat as much of that sandwich as possible. He had sprinkled in just a little something to help you be a bit more compliant with the “romance” he had planned for later that night. He could have relied on it to keep you from being too alarmed at him casting a spell on your belongings, but he couldn’t be sure how much you would ingest. Lox didn’t want to be pushy about you consuming the food either, that would be suspicious.

No, it was better if he just enchanted your things now and then he wouldn’t have to worry about if you had eaten enough magic flake powder that he had given you. And if you did happen to consume enough of it then he could have plenty of fun with you.

The fox-man briefly considered whipping up a love potion, but they were often temporary, wearing off at inconvenient times and requiring reapplication. And he really wanted you to actually be in love with him, not just be under the influence of all consuming magic.

When Lox entered the home it had startled you right off the couch and you fell to the floor. Lox quickly helped you up, relishing the chance to make physical contact with you. He was beyond thrilled to see that the plate your food had been on was now empty.

“Thanks! Sorry, you coming in so suddenly just startled me. You weren’t wrong about how fast you were, I hadn’t expected you back so soon.”

“Told ya I was fast.” He beamed proudly as he handed you your belongings.

Over the course of the next couple of hours the two of you chatted while you taught him a card game with a deck that you always traveled with, but you became fatigued much sooner than you usually did. Surely that was just from all the travel followed by the excitement of earlier though.

Lox offered you use of his bed while you used his couch, but you wouldn’t hear of it. He had already shown you such kindness you weren’t going to just kick him out of his own bed. Finally he relented and just let you use the couch.

Sleep came to you with unusual ease, something that Lox was greatly anticipating. Now you’d be at his mercy and even if you woke up, the mind altering effects of what he had fed you would make sure that you didn’t remember it or if you did you'd think it was only a dream.

Lox lubed you up carefully and slid into your sleeping form which he had tenderly stripped bare. He bred you slowly and lovingly, deep strokes into you so that he could edge and enjoy every possible second of making love with his partner for the first time.

It was difficult, but he managed to restrain his instinct to bite your neck all over and make his claim on you visible to the world. He also held his cock at the base to prevent his knot from slipping in and swelling within you. Lox didn’t want to leave you with any suspicious soreness.

But the hardest thing for the fox man was pulling out and not filling you up full of his seed, especially when your eyes fluttered open and you moaned and babbled incoherently while drooling in pleasure even if your mind couldn’t make sense of anything that was happening.

After that, he came in you quickly and meticulously cleaned you up so that no evidence was left behind.

When you woke up your head was a bit fuzzy, light filtered in through a little circular window and by the angle of the sun it seemed that you had slept all morning. You thought you probably had overstayed your welcome.

You yawned and began to get off the couch when suddenly Lox appeared as if from nowhere with a hot plate of food. Had he been watching and waiting for you to wake up? You didn’t entertain the thought long, you were just being paranoid. He was a fox-man; he clearly had enhanced senses and was just keeping the meal warm for you when you finally got up.

"Quail egg omelet before you leave?"

Lox seemed refreshed and energized, and though you couldn't quite place why something about him gave you just the slight twinge of anxiety in the back of your mind. It was easy to push away though.

"Thanks, you didn't have to make me breakfast. I have rations in my pack"

"Nonsense, you're my guest. And I was making one for myself anyway."

It did smell rather enticing and he had gone through the trouble of cooking it so you relented and ate it happily. It was among the best dishes you had ever eaten. You wondered if he used his magic to enhance it. He had, actually, added his own "special ingredient" to the food he made for you, but it wasn't something magical and you really didn't want to know what it was.

After you finished the meal Lox, true to his word, happily joined you on your trip out of the forest. You tried to insist that you didn’t need him, that the wolves probably went off in search of easier prey, and that you were prepared now, but the fox wasn’t having it.

The trip out of the forest was largely uneventful, filled only with Lox’s chatter and questions focused on you. You supposed most people would have been annoyed by it all, but you knew he didn’t get much company and you were still so touched by the kindness that he had shown you.

Overall it was going well.

Until it wasn't. As you crossed the old, but up until this point, very sturdy bridge, it suddenly collapsed beneath you. With a scream you flailed desperately, luckily Lox was able to reach you, hold onto you, and jump back up the side that you had come from. After you caught your breath and let your nerves settle in silence you looked at the damage. The bridge was beyond repair. It would add a couple hours to your journey to go around to the shallow part of the river, but you certainly couldn't go across here anymore.

"God damn! That was... scary! Thanks for... saving me. Again..."

You were still shaking a bit.

"It's no problem! I thought the bridge was a bit sturdier than that. Good thing I caught you... I guess we'll just have to go back for now..."

"No it's fine, I saw an old map of the area, there's a place I can cross if I follow the river. Will just take a few extra hours."

You looked up at him.

"Don't worry, you don't need to escort me the extra distance."

That was, of course, the exact opposite of what Lox planned. He would be at your side for eternity. Whether you said you wanted him there or not.

"No, no! It's not a bother. Really. I'm usually so bored I just sleep most of the day!"

"Well if it isn't a bother, I'm glad to have a traveling buddy for a bit longer."

The two of you sat down for a couple minutes before resuming your newly extended route out of the forest. It went about as well as it had been going before the incident with the bridge, though Lox kept shooting you nervous looks, like he was holding back from saying something to you. Poor guy, he was probably just sad that the two of you would be parting ways soon. You made a mental note to reassure him when you got to the end of the forest.

This wasn't the end at all, you'd see him a couple times a month if this trading exchange worked out. Maybe even once a week if things got really busy.

The fox hybrid was a bit more distant in conversation, focused more on his thoughts. He had been sure that after he collapsed the bridge with his magic and then saved you from the disaster that you would be head over heels in love with him. Clearly he had shown you he can keep you safe from any peril... even if he had to make the danger himself. At the very least you should have agreed to stay at his home a bit longer so that he could get you to like him more.

Sadly, Lox could not glean any notions of love emanating from you using his magical abilities. But he absolutely couldn't accept that you weren't at least somewhat attracted to him by this point. He had, as far as you were concerned, saved your life twice. Then he had been very amicable and hospitable towards you. You must have been in such strong denial that your true feelings were unknown even to you. But he wasn't going to give up on his beloved, he just knew the two of you were meant to be together. No matter what.

His first priority had to be making sure you never made it out of the forest. If you left and he wasn't with you then you could get hurt. Or maybe someone else would take you! But he didn't want to scare you or tip you off.

As the two of you continued on your way the amorous man couldn't help but stare at you and think of all the things he wanted to do to you. Seeing a lack of claiming bites on you almost sent his instincts into overdrive, he had to actively stop himself from fucking you into the dirt, biting all over you, and having his knot tie the two of you together.

The two of you crossed the river and with each step Lox grew more fidgety as his desire to claim you grew, as did his worry that you may escape him if he didn't think up another plot soon. Then he had a great idea. Quicksand! He'd save you from it and you'd be so frustrated, messy, and grateful that at the very least you'd want to go back to his house for another night to rest and clean up!

Lox used his magic to create a patch of quicksand on the path ahead and used his power of illusion to make sure it looked just like the surrounding terrain until disturbed, just like natural quicksand.

And sure enough it fooled you. With a loud scream you suddenly plummeted through what you had assumed was perfectly solid ground. You fell forward and struggled to orient yourself in the thick muck. Lox grabbed your pack from behind and plucked you easily from the quicksand. You gasped for breath and wiped the mud from your face.

"Holy fuck, I would have drowned if not for you! You're a real lifesaver, Lox."

This time you didn't waste more than a few seconds trying to catch your breath before getting up.

"I guess we should head back to my place, we can get you all cleaned up and try again tomorrow."

"Oh don't worry! We only just passed the river, we can go back and I can rinse off there!"

You started to head towards the water with Lox at your side.

"Are you sure? You must be tired after all the excitement we just had..."

You stopped and looked at Lox. He seemed almost panicked. The gears in your head finally started turning. The dots were connecting.

"Every time something happens you are very quick to suggest we head back... and it's pretty convenient that you are always right there to save me from these sudden disasters..."

"What are you saying?" The fox asked with a surprising darkness.

The question hung unanswered, heavy in the air, as the two of you stared at one another. Then you bolted into the dense foliage. But this was Lox's forest, he had years of experience tracking and keeping eyes on any humans who wandered through it, and he had never been so motivated.

Every time you made a turn Lox would appear in a puff of smoke in front of you, using his magic to teleport short distances. He grabbed you, but you struggled out of his grip.

"I love you babe, but I am getting tired of this little game. Let's go home now okay?"

He used a wave of magic to animated the vines near you, they snared you easily. You wriggled and writhed like a maniac as he slowly approached you with a creepy smile on his face.

"You must be tired after that little chase. You need a nap."

Then he pulled out a pouch of shimmering blue powder from his pocket and blew it over you. You fell asleep instantly.

When you woke up from your fitful sleep full of nightmares and fear in Lox's bed. You had no pants on and a thick sticky fluid leaking from your entrance. You realized those nightmares may not have been dreams at all, and you felt instantly nauseous.

Luckily, he wasn't in the room with you. The sick freak seemed to be in the kitchen, you could hear him humming faintly as he went about cooking. He probably thought he'd bring you a meal in bed and you'd be grateful and everything would be just peachy between the two of you. But you had other plans.

The window was large enough to leave through, you hoped you could do so quietly. You wiped yourself clean as best you could and put the clothing that Lox has removed back on. You raised the window slowly and it didn't make any noise at first, but you came to a point where it was stuck and more force had to be used. It squeaked like it was shrieking out your desire to escape to the four corners of the world.

Since your cover was clearly blown you gave up being quiet and forced it open with all due expediency. You quickly scrambled out the window, falling forward into the dirt. You wasted no time at all in getting up and darting away as fast as you possibly could. But the eyes of the fox were on you from the window, watching you speed further away. He wasn't worried though.

Lox was delusional and arguably even completely insane over you at this point, but he was no idiot. He knew your denial about how you felt over him may still be too strong and you may try to run away. He had taken extra precautions. Precautions you learned of in a very direct way when you slammed face first and at full force right into some sort of invisible barrier that Lox had erected a good distance around his dwelling.

You fell rather hard on your ass and cupped your face in pain. Then you heard a voice approach behind you.

"Are you okay darling? I didn't intend to hurt your pretty face." He waved a hand and green sparks from his fingertips healed up your injury.

"What the Hell, Lox!? You can't just keep me prisoner like this!"

"You're not a prisoner! You're my partner, and this is just to keep you close by. You're really fragile judging by how you handled all the dangers recently."

You stared at him for a moment, unable to think of a response to this complete lunatic, as he got closer and stared down at you with that freaky smile of his.

"I realize you are used to being really independent, but you really need to admit it already. I am the perfect mate for you. You have to know that deep down."

You started to object, but he sealed your words with a sudden rough kiss. He was deceptively strong, a fact you learned while trying unsuccessfully to push him off of you. He pinned you down on the ground with ease and smirked down at you.

"If showing off how good of a protector I am isn't enough to get rid of your denial, then I will just have to show you how good our union feels~"

Lox ignored your protests. His nails grew sharp and he sliced off your clothing as easily as if he was cutting through paper.

"I'm gonna make you feel soooo good."

He bit possessively at your neck. It hurt slightly but the unpleasantness was overridden by pleasure. For someone who was rarely around humans except to randomly help or hinder an occasional traveler he sure knew how to pleasure you. Then you remembered how he had violated you in your sleep. He had practiced. You redoubled your efforts to get free but the resistance only seemed to excite him more.

Lox's claws returned to being normal nails as he fingered your entrance, despite his increasingly feral state of mind he was still focused on making this as pleasurable as possible for his beloved little human. He used a small bit of magic to create an oil from his fingers to apply a generous amount of lubrication to you.

Shouts, screams, and the tears rolling down your face were all met with calming shushing noises and promises that you'd be moaning soon enough with fear replaced by delight.

His fingers wiggled within you, causing you to buck unwillingly in the throes of carnal stimulation. You gasped and whined at your body's betrayal. Lox pulled out his fingers and held your hips tight while aligning his cock with you and slamming into you with the perfect amount of force.

Your moan was captured by his lips as he kissed you again, biting your lower lip as he pulled away.

"I have wanted my knot in you for so long, you're gonna fit me like a glove~"

All you could manage was to grunt in defiance as you drooled dumbly. Lox began thrusting into you again and again. Each movement of his could only be described as perfection. He rolled his hips and plunged in deeply with slow strokes that steadily increased in pace.

It really didn't take long at all for Lox to feel your body throb around his large prick as you climaxed. If this had been a willing encounter, and if you also had not been fucked silly, you would have been embarrassed by how quickly Lox had made you orgasm.

The fox looked at you in awe, observing every detail of your face as you came. Your flushed face, the rise and fall of your chest as you panted, your eyes glazed and lost in sexual bliss.

"Wow, you finish even faster and more beautifully than you did while sleeping!"

Lox bit at your chest and up to your neck, delivering a harder bite there to mark you as his. You were so out of it that it didn't register in the way that it should have. What little pain there was Lox quickly dispersed with more magical healing and gentle kisses.

He continued pumping into you for well over an hour, eliciting enough moans, whimpers, shakes, and shudders from you until your voice was hoarse and your body limp.

And then, just when you thought you would die from all the overstimulation, Lox painted your walls white with a hot load of cum before his knot swelled and kept the two of you together.

"See? No one else can make you feel like this! And you take me just so well my beloved~"

When his knot finally went down he had to stop himself from diving back into you, the sight of you glistening with sweat and leaking his seed went straight to his cock. But he settled for just slipping it between your thighs and grinding into you while you sat on his lap in the bathtub.

Your comfort was the priority and you clearly needed special care after that mind shattering sex.

When you were all cleaned up, he carried you bridal style to his bed and bundled you up in soft blankets, he pressed a loving kiss to your cheek before going off to get you some food and water. Maybe something easy to get down. Perhaps some soup? Since you were still pretty dazed he wondered if you would let him feed you.

You were such a sweet fragile thing and would need to recover your energy for all the activities he had planned for the two of you.

#yandere terato #yandere x reader #yandere teratophilia #monster boyfriend #gender neutral reader #male yandere x gn reader #yandere boyfriend #yandere #My OCs #My OC Lox #Yandere Hybrid #Yandere fox-man #Yandere fox #yandere male #male yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere fic

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roturo · 1 year ago

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⋆.˚⭒⋆.˚ WATCH IT!

Gojo Satoru didn't predicted this move... So he ended up fucking you lol ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ G!Satoru x afab!reader and sex pollen!

tags: smut, sex pollen, unprocteted sex (wrap it and pee after sex), overstimulation (like A LOT), use of nicknames (princess, baby, good boy, love...) multiple rounds, praise kink, angst if you squint your eyes till you cry like gojo, sub(ish)!gojo satoru, god complex, fluff if you take one eye out, crack, belly bulgde, creampie, breeding kink, crempie kink, A LOT of cum, dumbfication, cock warming, npr.

A/N: happy holidays! might be my last writing of the year so i wish you lots of love and happiness <3 i might write pt2 for this one and 'she's back', which one would you like first?

o(〃＾▽＾〃)o

DAY 1: HOW IT STARTED

How the fuck at his grown ass age Gojo Satoru could be this stupid. And that’s big coming from him, because this man considers himself the senior of seniors and god of gods. So, how come he falled into this?

And you know what? Maybe it is his fault! For believing he’s a superior and underestimating such a weak and useless curse he just killed. But, this weak and useless curse has him going crazy. That really was karma paying back to him because motherfucker- Why is he feeling all giddy and hot all of sudden? This has never happened to him before, so that’s why he’s losing his mind right now and almost sprinting into his room because of how bothered he was feeling to just teleport.

Everything was like hell. Really, like hot as hell. And how does Satoru know that? Uh well, because he’s living it right now.

He couldn’t bear the sensation anymore and dialogue Shoko’s number like it was a habit.

“What do you want, Gojo? I’m in the middle of trying to know how Yuuji’s body is capable of being Sukuna’s vessel. Like- It’s quite important right now, and more than debating about some of your dumb tv shows you-”

Shoko’s voice was interrupted by a whine coming from Gojo’s line, seconds of silence continued the awkward moment between the both of them, while all Gojo could do was breathe and maintain his whines inside of his body before he started literally moaning.

“Are you okay, Gojo?...”

“Fuck, no. Some fucking curse sprayed me all over with some fucking stinky pollen. Didn’t even taste great, by the way. And now I'm just feeling really hot, sometimes dizzy… or kinda giddy? fuck. And my breathing became irregular. I’m fucking sprawled out in my bed trying to find a comfy position but my legs won’t cooperate.”

A loud laugh was heard coming from Shoko’s line. It was clear she’s been holding it all this time just trying to make sure she’s gettin it right.. and well.

“Gojo.”

“Yeah?”

“Are you hard right now?”

Silence.

“You know what? I’m sending Y/N over there with some medicine. You’ve been sprayed with sex pollen by the way.”

Sex- what?!

Before he couldn’t even ask Shoko any question since she quickly hung up. Leaving a needy and confused (and hard) Gojo.

Knock. Knock.

No answer, but a weird sounding moan? You gave yourself permission to enter Gojo’s room since no life signals were heard. But- holy fuck. Was this a reward or a punishment from the gods?

He was kneeled down on his bed, one of his hands used as a support placed in his bare calf while his other hand was as fast as possible jerking himself off. You stayed still some seconds before rewinding back to what Shoko told you before coming here.

“He might be another type… of… Gojo?... Anyways. He’ll be really needy and like a lost puppy looking for some salvation. I gave you this backpack with all you would need, yeah? Thank me later and good luck.”

So that’s why her flat ass was quickly sending you off with a backpack full of water bottles and snacks. Sex fucking pollen. Great.

It’s not like people don’t know that both of you have been crushing into each other lately, hell- even his newest student asked about this. But you never expected for it to be like this.

“G-Gojo…?”

Your voice was barely a whisper, but it’s like a hawk located his next prey because of how instant his reaction was just for your voice. A drunk smile on his face, while both of his hands fall infront of him trying to hide the act that was going on minutes ago. His sculptured white as snow body covered in a hot layer of sweat. Not being able to catch a breath thanks to this sight, somehow he’s in front of you.

“Are you here to help me? Y/N?”

His voice sounded so different. But at the same time it was just Gojo.

A small nod was all the reaction he got. You could smell that sweaty smell, looking down you found yourself looking at a large wet spot staining his black briefs. While his cock does nothing to imagination, marking perfectly the shape of it. Moving your gaze to his v-line, a white happy trail proudly adorning it. Eyes moving up, you found yourself looking at his clearly erected nipples, But all this examination was over once he interrupted your thoughts.

“I need a verbal affirmation, princess”

Ah, the nicknames. If you weren’t wet by now, you’re pretty sure you’re leaking right now all because of him.

“Yes Satoru, I’ll help you.”

His knees felt weak. Literally. He kneeled down in front of you, it was like he hypnotized and somehow could smell through your body into emotions. His hands were cold but hot at the same time he roamed your body.

You tried warning him by calling his name while he started kissing the softness of your thighs, telling him to at least move you towards the bed. And his body was doing what you said like if you were controlling him, while his mind was somewhere else. He moved the both of you towards his bed, making you lie down. His head not wasting any second between your thighs until his nose touched where you needed him the most and you whimpered at the feeling. Clearly triggering a new kind of need inside Gojo.

Everything happened really fast. Between some kisses and moaning, Gojo ripped your shorts and pantoes a muffled noise coming out from him of what you suppose was “I’ll buy you new ones later” but right now you couldn’t care less.

Not when his tongue slowly started tracing the way from your entrance until it reached your core. Teasing it with kitten licks, while his hands remained on your hips from preventing moving them.

His tongue quickly found a rhythm between your entrance and your clit, forming infinite signs between them. And the simulation was too much you couldn’t notify Gojo about your orgasm- But he was so lost in the feeling of your thighs suffocating him and the taste of yourself in his lips, he swears he could die as a happy man right now.

And like it wasn’t enough, Gojo kept eating you out even after your intense orgasm. Overstimulation taking over your body, trying to take him off your core, ended up with annoyed groans coming out from him.

“Satoru, love, fuck. I need you to stop, please.”

The nickname had him exploding with happiness, he really looked like a puppy from this angle. His eyes looked ethereal, his mouth covered with your fluids and his face was with a cute smile while he called out your name.

“Will you please let me fuck you?”

A small giggle came out from your mouth, Gojo’s face looked a little sad and embarrassed, but was quickly erased when you pecked his lips. And that was all he needed to clumsily take off his briefs and while he climbed back to the bed, taking off your top while doing so. His eyes were full of adoration looking over your body, before he pressed his lips into yours, locking them for a long moment, clearly enjoying the moment, before the kiss turned more heated and he started kissing every part of your body again.

His tip was now wet thanks to your folds, Easily slipping through it.

“Ffuck- Ssatoru- Be a good boy and put it in, please?”

Gojo needed no more words before thrusting his cock whole into you with one swift movement, hitting perfectly against that spongy spot that made you see stars. But something didn’t feel right. Not in a bad way. Since you re-opened your eyes to find a glassy eyed Satoru mumbling a lot of ´sorry’s´ while he kept thrusting.

Oh.

He came with just one thrust and was overstimulating himself, still rock hard with no break while he hid his face in the crook of your neck while marking it as his and tearing down from the pleasure.

You’re pretty sure he came again, when he whimpered your name and moaned against your ear but still continued thrusting into you perfectly. And he was so lost in the pleasure of overstimulating himself he didn’t realize once he confessed to you.

“You’re so pretty- ffuck– I really want to make you mine now. So no one could look at you, not even in a friendly way. Just… have you all for me- sshit. I love you.”

You didn’t want to get your hopes up, thinking it was all because of the moment, so you just had to enjoy it for now. His thrusts were so fast and hard, but somehow still felt romantic. Like this was a normal routine on a daily basis. And you would be disgusted by the pool of cum forming under the both of you if you weren’t so close to your third orgasm this night. No matter how many times you told Gojo to stop for a moment and take a break, he would cum again, and still be hard so he had to keep thrusting.

Your mind is lost now. All you could ever think about right now was Gojo Satoru and his immense cock. He wouldn’t stop mumbling praises to you, saying this was all for you to feel good and he would stop once you cum at least 3 times more than him. A hard dare to get over with. Or maybe it already happened?

You begged for mercy, not thinking he could get another orgasm out of you. Hell- to even get an orgasm out of him. His hands interweld into yours, and moved it down towards your tummy.

“Do you feel it, baby? I'm right here. Ahh~ I’m pretty sure my cum is there too heh. Your tummy is full of me and my cum.”

He sounded drunk. Like. Really drunk. But his words took off your last orgasm of the night, apparently your reaction making his trigger off and cum… dry?

How many fucking times did Gojo Satoru came inside you?

Will pills even prevent a pregnancy?

“Ah- shit baby.”

You couldn’t pay attention to him anymore, quickly slipping into dreamland. Gojo not once leaves your side. Literally. He was cock-warming, still hard, but no energy (and cum) to continue his misery.

You were here at 7.45 o’clock, one last look at the clock and it was 3.23 in the morning.

And it was like you just blinked, because a whimper came out of your mouth. Looking again into the clock, it was 10 AM, and Gojo was not over.

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honey-tongued-devil · 3 months ago

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[Arcane preference] reacting to their s/o wearing mobility aids

When I said I was prioritizing the illnesses I had, I didn’t expect the hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, but here we are. For those who don’t know what it is: it’s a genetic condition that affects the ligaments, making them longer and/or looser, which cause problems over time. In my case, it affects my legs, so I’ll write about those. As always, if you want to read more of my work, you can click on the coloured texts! here the Tumblr masterlist, and here are the first two chapters of Everytime it Rains.

Jayce:

He’s well-versed in what to do and not do, being around two people with a similar condition (though he’ll never call it a "disease" out loud for fear of making anyone uncomfortable).

His help is as subtle as possible: he’ll grab your backpack, shoulder bag, or anything else you’re carrying to keep you from overexerting yourself.

During walks, he’s the one who’ll suddenly mention it’s getting cold, too hot, or that he just remembered something, as soon as he senses you’re getting tired, assuming your fatigue is worse than his.

The first time you said, “I’ll pass, my knees are about to bend” he didn’t realize they bent backwards, and when he saw what that actually meant, he went pale.

He felt guilty about his reaction for at least a week.

Viktor:

Tell him something he doesn’t know.

He’s the one who’ll comment, “Where’s your brace?” if he sees you with bare legs and no aid, maybe tapping your foot lightly with his cane to emphasize his disapproval.

On the bad days—when fatigue, cold, or any external factor makes both of your legs useless—you end up helping each other out, spending most of the time on the couch with pillows under his knees and your legs draped over his.

If you have to do something alone while he’s busy, he’ll ask Jayce to accompany you, ensuring you don’t overdo it without realizing.

Ekko:

Honestly, he couldn’t care less. I mean, it’s not a big problem for him

The first time he saw your knees bend weirdly and too much, he just said, “Ouch.”

Other than that, there are hoverboards! If your legs stop cooperating at some point in the day, he’ll just have you balance seated on the hoverboard, saying it’s a gentleman’s duty to escort such an attractive lad/lady around.

He doesn’t ask what you want or need; he just does it, whether it’s bringing you food or removing your knee brace to let your skin breathe.

If he’s going to be away from the house for a while, he leaves a few things ready for you, like water bottles, so you don’t have to strain yourself carrying them up the stairs on your own.

When he sees you’re worn out, he’ll ask if you want a massage, using some body butter to improve circulation, relieve stress, and keep your skin elastic.

Vander:

His first instinct would be to carry you, but since that’s sweet yet sometimes awkward, you both agree that at night ‘it’s a man’s right to carry his wife/husband to bed, disability or not’.

He doesn’t know exactly how to help, so aside from asking if you need anything—like grabbing your aids, bringing them to you, or helping you put them on—he won’t push, knowing you’ll ask for help if you need it.

If you need to go upstairs, he’ll always walk behind you so that if your knees give out, he can catch you and avoid disaster.

At least two rectangular pillows appear in every useful room so you can place them under your knees. The problem is that you forget about them most of the time, so they’re not much help—at least until he comes along, lifts your legs, and places them in a more comfortable position.

"My legs hurt."

"Oh no, I’m sorry, I’m afraid we’ll have to cut them off," he jokes with a mock-serious expression, bursting into laughter when you swat at him in response.

Silco (old man):

Some things you could do on your own but feel more intimate when done together. That’s why you often trot into his office with the fabric sleeve and brace in hand, handing them to him, and he gives you his shimmer syringe in return.

There’s no specific reason beyond the mental closeness and vulnerability of the act.

“Too tight?” will always be his question, even though he knows by now how to adjust it perfectly and doesn’t need to ask.

When you’re together, he’s the one to carefully remove it, stroking your leg while lost in thought.

He never sends anyone to assist you; instead, he asks if you think it would be better to have someone accompany you, making sure you reassure him if you insist you can manage alone.

Silco (Young Man):

Zaun isn’t exactly suitable for crutches or unsteady footing, so as soon as you let him know about your condition, he feels even more compelled to improve the city (or at the very least, smooth out the streets).

He’ll ask questions—few but direct—to understand what it is and how he should act.

If you drop something, he’ll be quick but subtle about picking it up and putting it somewhere easier for you to reach.

“Do you want to go home?” is the question he’ll ask you most often, even if it’s just with a look, despite you explaining multiple times that you’ll let him know if you can’t keep going.

But he knows you push yourself beyond your limits, so he worries.

At night, he’s made it a small ritual to massage your legs when you stretch them out in bed, and it actually helps relieve the tension.

Jinx:

“I can make you a mechanical one.”

When you explain what the condition is and that you don’t need a replacement leg but help for the ones you have, she starts carrying around a notebook, taking notes on the “flaws” of your aid to make you a custom version better suited to your daily life and body.

“I’ll do it!” is her go-to response for anything you need to do that she thinks takes too much effort. She doesn’t even ask; she just throws herself into it with so much enthusiasm it becomes amusing after a while.

You don’t have many intact knee braces or aids left, because according to her, they were “boring,” and she’s customized them—though they still work pretty well.

Even if she won’t admit it, she’s become even more protective of you. For example, if someone bumps into you in the street, she’s ready to jump to your defense immediately.

Vi:

She doesn’t really know how to react or respond because of how versatile the condition is. How does she figure out which days your legs won’t work and which ones they will? Or when they’ll start hurting before it’s too late?

You two agree on a small code: you tap her hand or shoulder three times rhythmically when you start to feel fatigued so that if you’re in public or with company, you don’t have to announce it to everyone if you don’t want to. She’ll immediately understand.

She’s a little scared of doing the wrong thing. She doesn’t know how to handle it and, even though she tries not to, she starts to perceive you as more fragile, moving with a fear of accidentally hurting you.

But she learns over time. She’ll simply ask more often if you need anything when she’s going to the kitchen or the store.

And when you’re cuddling, she’ll pull your legs onto hers.

Caitlyn:

She asks you to explain the condition to her—what you can and can’t do and how she can help.

She’s the ultimate advocate for your aid.

If you skip wearing it one morning because you don’t feel like it or the pain hasn’t started yet, you can bet she’ll notice and say something.

Sure, it can be a bit annoying, but considering it’s a degenerative condition, you know she’s right, so you can’t really get mad at her.

If you’re just not in the mood, she’ll put it on for you herself, with such care that you start to wonder if there’s an instruction manual she got that you didn’t.

Beyond that, she’s not overbearing. She trusts that you’ll communicate when you don’t feel like doing something, and she doesn’t presume to know your limits better than you do.

Mel:

It’s not too much of a problem, considering most of your activities together don’t involve much walking or moving due to her work.

That doesn’t stop her from taking an interest, though. At least once a week, she’ll ask you how your legs are

If they hurt, if you need different support or more comfortable shoes, or if you just need a footrest or a cushion—she’s ready and ensures everything you might need is on hand. If she can’t get it herself, she’ll send someone.

During dinners, she privately asks whoever is in charge of arranging things to provide you with a footrest and an extra cushion on your chair. If you tell her it’s unnecessary, her response will be, “Can’t I spoil my partner a little?”

She knows you’ll let her know if you’re having issues, but she takes all the necessary precautions to ensure no problems arise in the first place.

Sevika:

Again, tell her something she doesn’t know.

The difference between your legs and her arm—besides the fact that yours are still intact—is that they require less messy and time-consuming maintenance than hers. So not only does she not mind helping, but she hardly even notices.

She won’t ask if you need anything unless you say so or show explicit signs of struggling. It’s a deliberate choice to avoid making you feel like she thinks you’re not independent or capable.

On the couch or in bed, she’ll have you rest your legs on hers and prop you up with cushions behind your back, making sure you’re fully supported.

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seresinhangmanjake · 9 months ago

Text

His

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x reader

Summary: You used to be a Lady, a daughter of a Great House until Feyd took you. Since then, your sole purpose has been to warm his bed, but when Rabban asks about having you for himself, Feyd makes a choice that changes your future.

Words: 2600

Notes: Possessiveness. Grumpy Feyd. I know it's similar to another one of my fics, but I realized that after the fact, so...

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist

You didn’t sleep. Not a wink. You laid in his bed all night, waiting for the man who never came, and your heart didn’t cease its ferocious beats for a second. Where is he? Why isn’t he here? Is he ok? What happened? The sun rises without answers to those questions.

You shoot up in bed when the door eases open. Expecting to find him, you’re disappointed to see instead his harpies enter one after the other. They don’t look at you. One goes about riffling through your dresses in the closet, one heads into the bathroom and you suddenly hear a rush of water filling the tub, and the last of them goes to the vanity Feyd brought in for you, lining up makeup and hair pins that she intends to use on you.

The air about them is poised—an echo of who they used to be before they were turned into pets—as, for the moment, their vile, more carnivorous side lies dormant.

Feyd only allows them to near you a couple hours after they’ve been fed; the peak time between their hunger sated and their bellies rumbling. At any other time, your uniquely foreign scent wafts to their nostrils and they are incapable of holding themselves back. More than a handful of instances—when they’ve managed to manipulate the guards to open their cages with their seductive smiles—they’ve gone on the hunt for you; one time in particular, sneaking into the bedroom in the middle of the night and yanking you from Feyd’s arms with the intention of sinking their teeth into your flesh. Feyd had been so furious he’d cut a finger from each of their hands.

Still, they don’t scare you. You see in them women not entirely unlike yourself: owned, and therefore, changed. Soft are the women who have had the luxury of marriage and child-rearing in the comforts of wealth and beautiful homes—and good for them; how lovely to be soft—but it is the women who have not a choice in their existence that develop a steel shell. And you and the harpies have steel shells. In that way, they are your kin, and you try to subtly express that when you can, even though their allegiance to Feyd can make that quite difficult.

“Where is he?” you ask.

They ignore you, continuing with their tasks, and you huff. Yes, sometimes they refuse to speak with you, and always it seems when you need their words most. In the past, you’ve been tempted to dangle your arm in front of their sharpened fangs in the hope that the offering will encourage their cooperation, but you’ve yet to find the bravery for that. Plus, Feyd would lose his mind. Well, he would lose the rest of it.

“You’ve spoken to me before,” you continue. “Why not now?”

One of them stops and faces you. She glances at her sister who shakes her head.

“Tell me,” you plead.

“We are not permitted to speak with you on the matter,” the other says to your frustration. That is not good enough. Regardless of how he sees you and how you feel, he is the one thing keeping you alive on this lifeless planet and you refuse to go about your days worrying over his safety and what his disappearance means for your fate.

You throw the sheets off your legs and stand.

“I don’t care,” you spit as your silky nightgown falls at your ankles, but then you reconsider your tone. The harpies do not do well with aggression. Being so animalistic, their instincts are easily drawn out, and they tend to attack when attacked, which is not a fight you would win.

You take a calming breath, placing a hand over your heart. “We are the same. He owns us, he clothes us, he feeds us,” you remind them. “On this planet, I am as much your sister as you are each other’s. We all care about him in a way and if I knew what happened to him, I would have the decency to tell you.”

The harpy who drew your bath returns to the bedroom. Having overheard your words, she crosses her arms and says, “With respect, my Lady, we are not your sisters,” she says. “We have never had him the way you have, and he does not feel for us the way he does you.”

Your clenched jaw loosens, lips parting. If you had assumed anything about the relationship between Feyd-Rautha and his harpies, it was that they had once been where you are; that when you came along, they lost their rank and became something alike the handmaids from your home world. You’d assumed that when they warmed his bed, their handmaids were the women who entertained him before them, and so on like a disgusting, perverted pattern. But if that is not the case, then your sense of identity is even more confused. Not to mention, nary a soul has referred to you as ‘Lady’ since you were taken from your family. So why show that respect now when Feyd practically stripped you of the title months ago?

You look to the only one of the three who seems unsure of the situation. She’s biting her lip, worrying the fabric of your unworn gown between her fingers.

“What about you?” you ask her and her head lifts to meet your eyes. She’s the smallest of them—pixie-esque, like you read in fairytale stories as a child—and despite the core of their primal nature, the gentlest. “You want to tell me.”

The harpy by your vanity hisses, but the gentle one does not shy away at the warning. “She has been kind to us,” she tells her sister in the most self-assured tone you’ve ever heard leave her mouth.

The sister snaps back. “He instructed us to do one thing: get her ready for the day and act like nothing is wrong. It was not to tell her what happened.”

You lightly gasp. “So something has happened,” you state, feeling your heartbeat quicken. Your chest begins to rise and fall to match the rapid rate. “Is he ok?”

There are a few seconds of silent pause before Pixie stands a little straighter, setting her shoulders in a strong line. “Our Lord na-Baron was answering for the death of his brother.”

Your head jerks back. “Rabban?” you question, your brow pinching. “Rabban is dead?”

“Yes, my Lady.”

“And Feyd is the one who killed him?” That doesn’t make any sense. While Feyd has complained enough for you to know Rabban is a bumbling idiot, he eventually found a way for his brother to serve a purpose. Why would he kill a man when he is no longer the nuisance he once was, you wonder, so you ask, “Why?”

“The Lord Rabban…made suggestions,” Pixie tells you. One of the harpies groans as the other shakes her head.

“What suggestions?”

She bites down and swallows hard, then she says, “He suggested that the na-Baron share you for his own pleasure.”

Instantly, you’re hit with a wave of nausea. Share? Share you? The concept of a foreign woman hopping between men of status is not unusual, but at this point, you assumed if Feyd were going to participate in something like that, he would have sent you off already. Not doing so didn’t even surprise you. He’s too possessive.

“You said he was answering for Rabban’s death,” you say, but answering for that surely wouldn’t have taken so many hours, not when the Baron saw Rabban as a waste of space. “So where is he now?”

—

He doesn’t notice when you step into the training room and you’re thankful for that. You came on a mission to extract more answers out of him, but you don’t mind having a second to admire him sparing against his trainer.

He’s sweaty. You like him sweaty—sweaty and bare-chested and perfectly, effortlessly mesmerizing as aggressive grunts leave his lips. You silently watch their violent dance, your form mouse-like by the door until his trainer looks up and halts to stare at you. Feyd whips around to follow his line of sight, then he sighs and turns back to the smaller man. He mutters something as he grabs the rag at his belt and runs it down his face.

The trainer leaves and Feyd places his knife back on the table among many others. “I told them to keep you away today,” he says dully, monotone, not meeting your eyes as he runs his finger over the blade and fiddles with the hilt. “Incompetent brats.”

“You didn’t come to bed.”

“I was busy,” he responds without letting a beat pass. He continues to avoid your stare and mess with the knives as if he’s never wielded them before.

You slowly step down the stairs into the pit of the room. “Busy killing your brother?” you ask. The muscles in his back twitch and flex under pale skin as he grips the hilt harder.

“That is none of your concern.” The distance between you lessens until you’re a foot from his back, but he doesn’t turn around.

“Even though you killed him because of me?” you ask. His neck ticks and his head tilts and shifts to adjust to the tension. When he still doesn’t respond, you try another angle. “Why are your harpies referring to me as their ‘Lady’?”

That seems to do it. Feyd faces you, crosses his arms, and leans his lower back against the table. “You think spending one night without me gives you permission to be nosy?”

You don’t give in to his method of shutting you up by aiming to make you feel silly and guilty. Instead, your eyes narrow and you mirror the crossing of arms. “Why am I a Lady again?”

“You just are.”

“Are you sending me home?”

His eyes flash. Blue irises darken a shade. “Don’t be stupid.”

“So I’m a Lady on Giedi Prime?” you ask, dropping your chin to emphasize how ridiculous that sounds.

The edge of Feyd’s jaw sharpens as he clenches his back teeth. “Stop asking questions.”

“Then answer one,” you say.

It’s a shot taken by an untrained hand, as he doesn’t enjoy demands, especially not from you, but you figure you have nothing to lose in the attempt, so you don’t cower under his menacing glare. You wait. And much to your surprise, he surrenders.

He blinks, and when his eyes open, they have softened ever so slightly. Then he says, “You’re marrying me,” and everything from your lungs to your limbs freezes in shock.

“W–What?” you stutter. That makes less sense than Rabban’s sudden death.

Feyd groans and stands straight, his arms falling at his sides. “See what being nosy gets you?” he snaps. “I wasn’t going to tell you immediately, and you had to go and ruin it.”

He grabs a fresh knife and stomps his way over to a dummy, ready to attack something other than you for the insecurity that he can’t completely contain. You’ve never witnessed him insecure, but you know the feeling when you see it—the defense mechanism, the distancing himself, the grumbly attitude.

“I’m not sure I understand,” you press as he slashes and stabs at the soulless victim. “I’m marrying you because you killed your brother for wanting to fuck me?”

With a grunt, the dummy’s head severs from its torso and flies off in your direction. It rolls and rolls and stops just before hitting your feet. The dead eyes stare up at you in silent amusement. Now you’ve done it, they mock.

“I don’t ever want to hear those words come out of your mouth again, do you understand me?” Feyd growls.

Your eyes shoot to his. “The marrying you part or The your brother fucking me part?”

He tosses the knife aside. It clatters against the ground as he closes in on you. His hand wraps around your neck. “Don't test me,” he grits out through clenched teeth. “I will sew your damn lips shut if I have to.”

An empty threat if you’ve ever heard one. He would never harm you, but even if he were going to try, his fingers would need to be squeezing much tighter.

You roll your eyes. “Well then how am I going to suck your cock?”

Something about the tease stuns him. His tense features immediately settle and his whole body eases with his exhale. Glancing at your lips, he licks his own, and you think he might decide to kiss you—after all, it’s been a good twenty-four hours since the last one—but he doesn’t.

You snort. “Didn’t think that one through, did you.”

Long fingers unwrap from around your neck. “You’re not funny,” he mumbles with an odd sense of shame.

“If you don’t find me entertaining, can you maybe take the time to explain all of this better?”

Feyd considers keeping his mouth shut. You know him well enough to know that. However, it’s ridiculous to contemplate since he’s already spilled the bigger news. Nothing could be more shocking than you, after the bed-warming position you’ve held for months, becoming his wife.

“My uncle was going to take you away from me for killing Rabban,” he finally says. “So I told him I've had plans to marry you for the alliance and that's why I refused to share you. Rabban wouldn’t take no for an answer, so he had to die.”

Raising a brow, you say, “The Baron accepted that explanation? My House may be one of the Greats, but we do not offer much for Giedi Prime.”

Feyd shrugs. “My uncle enjoys anything that causes upset. Marrying me means we will always own something very valuable to your family.”

It would likely offend another, but you don’t mind being owned. While the Baron may believe the Harkonnens as a whole will own you, you belong to Feyd and Feyd alone. He’ll never allow anyone to hurt you and now he’ll never have to fight or argue with anyone to stake his claim, which works for you just fine, to say the very least.

“Thank you,” you say.

“For what?”

Your head tilts as you smile. “Caring enough to protect me.”

“Don't flatter yourself,” he says. “I didn't do it for you, I did it for my own benefit.”

Your sweet smile morphs into a smirk. “The benefit being that you get to keep me all to yourself…for the rest of your life.”

With a scoff, Feyd rolls his eyes and crosses his arms again. “Whatever.”

“Feyd…” you sigh, leaning into him.

“What?” he returns in his snarky tone as if he doesn’t want you near, but he doesn’t step out of the bubble of your space.

“I'm happy.”

A pink tinge sneaks onto his pale skin, and he quickly looks away. And before he has a chance to come up with some witty remark to smack you with, you grab his face and press your lips to his.

You hold on to him until he starts to kiss you back, and then he's reaching for you, pulling you close, wrapping his arms around you, and you know you won't be going anywhere for a good long while.

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha #austin butler #dune part 2 #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha imagine

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solarpunkwarlock · 2 years ago

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Ways to Live in Direct Opposition to Capitalism

I am by no means an expert in any of these things I’m gonna talk about, so keep that in mind! I am just making a compilation of things I know of that we can do to lessen the stranglehold the capitalist lifestyle has on us while enriching our lives, our surroundings, and the lives of others. Please add anything I miss or correct anything I may be getting wrong! Anyway here goes!

Use what you have, fix what’s you can, make what you can, accept from others, thrift what you can, and finally purchase as a last resort.

This is advice I have seen float around here a couple of times that can apply to a lot of things including clothing, furniture, food, and more besides. It’s meant to be done roughly in that order as it applies to what you’re wanting/needing/doing. It’s about preventing waste, promoting self-capability, having a heightened reliance on your community, and consciously rejecting the ingrained habit many of us have to just purchase things or services.

Here’s where you can read about growing an indoor garden!

Here’s where you can read about sewing things yourself!

Here’s an online site for giving and receiving items for free!

Here is where you can find a local Mutual Aid to get things from, learn skills from, give do, volunteer for, etc. (in the U.S.)

Be politically active! (from a U.S. perspective)

Vote for every election. Know your representatives and those who will be competing in the next election. Vote without ignorance and without falling for unfounded claims. While operating within the system that actively oppresses us will not bring about the future we want, it can serve as damage control (preventing worse candidates from taking office) and it can potentially create a national atmosphere more open to change.

Here’s a good article about getting more involved in the U.S. political process.

Here’s a site that will show you how to register to vote, when and where elections are held, and more!

Here’s good advice on finding protests in your city!

Here’s some readings on unionizing! It’s your legal right to unionize!

Here’s a more user friendly site for learning about unions!

Be active within your community!

Developing strong, motivated, capable, knowledgeable, and inclusive communities is the ultimate way to combat the relentless and bleak present and future. When you’ve worked on the things above and have gotten good at it (or even if you haven’t gotten good at it yet), start spreading what you know and what you can do with others!

Give your neighbors, coworkers, and friends some of the vegetables you’ve grown.

Invite your community members to volunteer events.

Talk to folks about how to vote, when you’re doing it, etc.

Take part in Mutual Aids to teach what you’ve learned or whatever you may be an expert in! Invite neighbors, friends, and coworkers when you take part in the Mutual Aid!

Accept your community. Take them for who and what they are. Discrimination is the enemy of cooperation. You have much more in common with everyone in your community than a single billionaire or corporation. We’re all passengers on this spaceship earth.

Do it one step at a time!

Obviously we can’t do all of these things at once. Do what you can when you can, and you’ll start to notice real change in your life!

Our online communities where we talk about our visions and hopes are fantastic, but they have little impact if we don’t actually get up and do the real work that change requires.

Want to be better, and keep hope for the future!

Harbor and nourish that desire to be a better person and to be the change you want to see in the world. You need to be hungry for a better future if you plan to make it through the rough times when everything feels pointless and without hope. Reach out to others when you’re down, and be someone others can lean on when their lives get hard.

That’s it! Please interact with this, spread it to others, and add your own thoughts and ideas! It’s important that we do the real work to get the change we crave!

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hwnglx · 6 months ago

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pick a pile - what impression do people have of you?

i'm already back with another pac! let's see what impression people have of you, or what they think of you. breathe slowly, take your time and use your intuition to go with the pile that speaks to you the most. take what resonates, leave what doesn't. 𓆩♡𓆪

pile 1 ❥

hi lovely pile 1 person! you seem to have a harmonious and cooperative impression on people. they might think that you're good at matching yourself to others, good at compromising, just pleasant to be with. they enjoy being around you because you usually don't (at least not intentionally!) overpower people, and prefer not disturbing the peace. and although you don't always feel the need to put yourself above anyone; there still is a quiet sense of confidence within you. you do have quite a strong impression and presence. you're someone who's always seeking to find your very own inner calling, and might be much more self-focused than what meets the eye at first. you just have this nice balance between, not overstepping any lines, understanding the value of harmony between the people you're with (i do think you want to be liked by them!) but also being sure of what you yourself want and need in life, and what you have to do to get it. people might notice that in you. you can have an abundance of energy and passion for the things you feel enthusiastic about.

in addition to that, people seem to acknowledge you being a wise soul, who has gone through their fair share of cycles in life, including difficulties, and therefore has developed a more quiet but powerful inner strength.

they also might think of you as someone who does not shy away from actively speaking their mind once they feel strongly about something. it's giving this usually peaceful and balanced person, who'll transform into a much more direct and straightforward person once a subject is important to them. like you can talkkk, pile 1 person. i just keep hearing you talk haha.. i can see some people being quite surprised over how assertive you can actually be once your opinion is provoked. they might think that you have much more masculine, dominant and assertive energy than one would expect at first glance.

pile 2 ❥

hi lovely pile 2 person! you seem quite youthful in energy. maybe you're someone who always approaches life in a curious manner, always eager to learn and explore different aspects of life; which might be something others notice about you too. they think you're humble, usually more reserved, and very observant. like you have a good eye for things, notice the small details about people, and are always listening and in tune with the people around you. people might also see you as someone who, despite normally being quite grounded, stable and down to earth, does absolutely not shy away from defending themselves if someone manages to come at you. i personally wouldn't want to rub you the wrong way. it's giving “i'm usually nice and chill, laidback.. i just quietly watch everyone, but best believe if you provoke me, you will see a different side of me.” people might think of you as someone with a quick wit and fast-thinking, and a good speaker. like you might talk a lot once you start lmao. a person who's good at asserting their opinion in an impactful and strong manner.

they might also view you as someone who's quite knowledgable, and does have much more inner wisdom than one would expect from your potentially more youthful appearance or aura. it's like you're a young-looking person with a soul much older than what meets the eye. people might be impressed by the good advice you can give to them, and how capable you are of having deep and meaningful conversations about life. you might have a bit of a philosophical vein in you. yet there also is this freedom-loving and free-spirired side to you, where people might think that you usually just don't enjoy being restricted. they might see you as a person who prefers focusing on their own desires and wishes, and enjoys feeling like you aren't tied to anyone or anything in life. you also enjoy having fun, letting lose; not always taking life too seriously. people truly seem to notice this nice balance between youthful and lighthearted, but also mature and grown-up energy within you. i feel like you'd be a great friend to have, actually!

pile 3 ❥

hi lovely pile 3 person! you seem like such a sweetheart, my god. my heart kinda melted right here and there. are you an everybody's darling? i feel like you might have some significant water placements, considering the abundance of cups i got. or maybe you're just very emotional, do you cry easily? i feel like you might get sappy and sentimental about little things, like movies. people around you seem to genuinely enjoy your company, because you're just a joy to be with. you have this nice combination of, knowing how to have fun and enjoy a good time with groups of people, maybe you like going to parties sometimes, but also being excellent at creating special 1:1 connections to others.

they might see you as a person who's able to connect to the people around you in this profound, meaningful and deep manner, where they just feel understood, cared about and listened to when they're with you. when you love someone, you love them with your entire soul. you also might have very non-judgemental, nurturing and caring energy, which people around you appear to be very appreciative of. they also seem to think that you are very beautiful and in tune with your feminine qualities, you might enjoy taking care of the people you love and cherish. people might see you as someone pretty emotional and sensitive too, a kind-natured and loving person who wears their heart of gold on their sleeve. maybe you enjoy cooking, or doing something creatively. in addition, people might just think you're immensely charming (i feel like you might have a charming laugh or smile) and have this dreamy and lovely energy. people think that you're someone who loves the beautiful and aesthetic things in life, maybe you love the idea of love, and are quite a hopeless romantic at heart.

however, they might also notice that you can absolutely be more dominant at times, especially when it comes to your career, work or finances. they likely see you as quite reliable, someone who's stable and dependable when the situation calls for it, and values financial security and safety. someone who can definitely tap into their more “masculine” energy if they feel the need to. they might think that regardless of your usually emotional and soft-hearted nature, you have a strong sense of responsibility and put importance into making sure you stick by the things you say, and keep your promises.

pile 4 ❥

hi lovely pile 4 person! so, as soon as i drew the first card i did hear “pick me”, so maybe people see you as someone who can give off pick me energy. although i have to say, you might be a person who's quite misunderstood and unfairly perceived in some ways. a lot of people might have the impression that you're often overly eager to stand out, maybe a bit of an attention-seeker, though this might just come to you quite naturally. like.. it ain't your fault you're unique, jeez. ㅜ.ㅜ

you seem like an interesting, smart and clever person, who might have a melodic voice, and just speaks in this eloquent and intriguing way. you also might struggle with having a sensitive and emotional heart deep down. do you feel like people often come to you with a false prejudice set in place, and misjudge you for that reason? some people might not see you for the sweet and soft person you actually are. they might not approach you as comfortably, although you absolutely are a genuine sweetheart to the people you are close to and on good terms with. those people might recognise you for your at times youthful, dreamy and lovely energy.

you might give off the energy of a person who appears a little cold, but actually has a vast emotional inner world. some people might also view you as someone who can appear quite guarded and closed off, just because you've been through a lot and don't enjoy putting yourself into a vulnerable place anymore. it truly feels like you've been through a good amount of difficult times in your life, in which people saw you as an easy target and you received some undeserved attacks; which as a result, has made you more wary and careful around people. you might have your walls up a lot of the time, in order to protect that continuously impressionable heart of yours.

i kinda felt for this pile, so i just want to say; don't let anyone tell you you're something you're not! easier said than done but.. try to protect your inner softness, and don't allow people to turn you bitter. you seem to have a genuinely sweet interior, and the people who truly know you, seem very appreciative of it. so don't be swayed by the other people, embrace your true inner nature and try to accept and love yourself for who you are. i feel like you might get impacted by external opinions more than you'd like to admit, but 99% of those opinions are superficial and subjective, and not genuinely representative of your true qualities. stray strong, dear fighter <3

#kpop tarot #pac reading #pac #tarot reading #tarot community #tarot #personal reading #pick a card #pick a pile #pick a card reading

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 4 months ago

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Yandere Contained Monster Family (4)

Part One • Two •Three

“Now as we begin your examination, you cannot cut, snap, outwardly threaten, vocalize aggressively to the guards present. The same actions towards me will result in a 40 hours subject to forceful neutralization. So do you agree to the terms?”

The Werewolf sends a look at the shaking operator holding the gate

He nods, standing on the authorized mark while the guards pour in before you

“Clear!”

You enter with the scientists trained to maintain the upkeep of the werewolf

Keeping their observations to themselves, you keep the werewolf’s attention

You figure you’d like being distracted while you were being poked and prodded at (not like that would ever happen to you though)

“So how’s your morning been Rod?”

“I’m doing much better than usual.”

“That’s good. Do you have any questions for me?”

“Is your Uncle blood-related to you?”

The question has you tilt your head to the side

Rod and Villar agreed that to release their human child from this evil facility they’d have to make you question everything

That way you’ll be more inclined to help them when they decide to leave

“He is. Are you curious because he’s so different then I?”

Rod fully planned to question you further specifically about your origin but a well almost perfectly+ timed deep extraction of hair had him wincing and the test being concluded

“Thanks for your cooperation Rod? You cool with the same thing next week?”

“In exchange for the time I get to spend with Villar?”

“Yes!”

“Can you…join us next time?”

You’re about to head out of the enclosure when you stop

“What do you need a mediator for you two?”

Rod doesn’t respond to your snark, just waiting intensely for your answer

Which you fully step out of the enclosure walking around to your usual window

“Sorry Rod but I’m no counselor and I’m strictly forbidden from speaking to more than one of our…’guests’ without an immediate threat of termination...on your end.”

Rod refused to show the despair that washed over him

While he wasn’t known for all the decades he lived to let his mind imagine what could be his husband did

And when they last were able to communicate Villar had gushed about what it’d be like if they could both look down at you together again and somehow spark the memory of your childhood with them

Alas that didn’t seem possible unless either of them wanted to possibly get sniped by the real monster that they suspect was behind them losing you all those years ago

“Don’t look so upset. If it matters that much to you, I’ll look at the video recordings.”

Now that was something they could work with

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #platonic yandere #yandere platonic #yandere platonic monster family #platonic yandere monster #platonic yandere x reader #platonic yandere monsters #yandere x gn reader #yandere monsters #yandere vampire #platonic yandere werewolf #platonic yanderes #platonic yandere oc #platonic yandere original characer

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wordsofwhimsy · 3 days ago

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𝘚𝘏𝘈𝘛𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘌𝘋 𝘈𝘍𝘍𝘌𝘊𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕𝘚 - 𝘗𝘈𝘙𝘛 𝘖𝘕𝘌

Pairing: Mohawk!Mark x Reader | Sinister!Mark x Reader

Warnings: Alluding to sexual content

—Synopsis—

All surviving Variants have been brought to the Main Universe as a means to help defend and protect Earth.

It’s understood that if they try to indulge in any of their past, evil behaviors they will be promptly sent back to the wasteland universe.

The reader only ever developed a romantic relationship with Mohawk!Mark and Sinister!Mark in their respective universes, but died as a causality of battle in Mohawk!Mark’s timeline.

Being that Sinister!Mark is one of the strongest variants, the GDA obliged his condition of only cooperating with them if he was allowed to bring you to this universe, too.

To avoid using the same descriptive terms over and over again I'll be using "M.Mark" to refer to Mohawk Mark, and "S.Mark" for Sinister.

The rain was pouring outside in thick sheets, drenching everything in its path. Inside your house, however, the air felt colder than the storm. The dim lighting cast the room in an orange glow, illuminating where you sat on the couch as you fidgeted with the hem of your sleeve. You tried to muster up the courage to speak.

Mark sat on the opposite side of the room, his gaze distant, unfocused. His body language was closed off, rigid, as though he was physically there but mentally somewhere else. He hadn’t looked at you directly in what felt like days. Every attempt you made to break the silence seemed to fall flat, as though he was unwilling—or perhaps even incapable—of offering any kind of comfort.

“Mark…” you said softly, your voice trembling slightly. “I’ve been trying to talk to you. I just… I need something. Just a little reassurance.”

He didn’t react. Didn’t even glance your way. His gaze remained fixed somewhere outside the window, as though the storm outside was far more interesting than you.

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the emptiness in the room pressing down on you. “I don’t understand. You used to be…” you trailed off, feeling the words die in your throat. What was the point in continuing? The man you once knew, the one who was obsessed with you (almost overwhelmingly so), the one who would hold you like you were the most precious resource in the world, the one who placed you on a pedestal—he was slipping further and further away. Now, all that remained was this cold, distant version of him.

Finally, he spoke, though it wasn’t to comfort you. His tone was flat, dismissive. “I don’t know what you want from me. To be honest, you’re being kind of unbearable right now…”

Your chest tightened, and the sting of those words cut deep. You had long since stopped expecting the tenderness you once shared, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. You couldn’t understand it—how could he treat you like this? You wanted to reach out, to get closer to him, but he kept you at arm's length. The affection you sought, the closeness, the connection—it was all gone.

“I’m not asking for a lot, Mark. I just need you to… to care,” you whispered, almost pleading, your voice cracking at the end.

Mark’s gaze flickered to you, but it was detached—like he was looking through you rather than at you. “I care.” The word came out choked in his throat, as if physically hard for him to say. “But I’m getting a little tired of this pity party you’re having. We’re fine.” His voice was as sharp as ever, the bite in his words unmistakable. The cruel indifference felt like a slap.

You fell silent, swallowing the lump in your throat as you stood up, unable to stay there in that house any longer. You couldn’t bear to watch him, to feel like you were begging for scraps of affection that never came. You turned and walked toward the door, the weight of your heart dragging with each step.

What had happened to the love you once shared? Was this the person he had become? The person he had always been inside, buried beneath the façade of warmth and charm?

The back of your eyes acted like a projector for all your dearest – and now must painful – memories. You could vividly see Mark coming home from the chaos, his body battered but triumphant, filled with the kind of energy only someone who’d just carved their name into the world through violence could have.

His eyes would burn with intensity, always wild, always searching for something. And when he found you—always so sure of himself, so sure of you—he would pull you close, like a soldier who’d just returned from battle, needing to feel grounded. His hands would roam over your skin, not tender, but with that fervor only he had. His lips would press against yours with an almost sense of praise—a deep, guttural, obsessive need to remind you that you were his. You are mine. You are perfect. You are an extension of me. he would breath against your skin like a mantra between kisses.

There were moments when his touch made you feel like you were his greatest victory, like all the destruction and bloodshed that had led him to you was worth it. His devotion was all-encompassing, his adoration warped, twisted into something you could never quite explain, but it made you feel important. Needed. He praised you in way that was strange, almost as if he were talking to himself, as if you were a reflection of all that he had conquered. You didn’t question it. This was your reality. This was all you knew.

He was the one who built everything around him with iron fists. And you—you—were right there with him, watching him burn his way through life, loving him with a devotion that matched his own distorted sense of self-worth. You couldn’t imagine anything different. You wouldn’t have even wanted to.

But now... now, everything just felt wrong.

Ever since Angstrom had torn you from your reality, and you – along with all the other variants of Mark – were forced to live in this universe, things had changed. You could see it happening—the subtle changes that had crept in over time, the way his eyes lost their spark when he looked at you, the way his voice started sounding distant, hollow, as if the weight of his own mind was too much for him to carry.

He didn’t come home in a frenzy of passion anymore. He didn’t need to be reminded that you were there, that you were his. He didn’t praise you like he once did. His words—once so filled with unyielding confidence—now felt like empty echoes. He didn’t need to – couldn’t – conquer the world anymore, and it was as if the absence of that fire had drained so much from him. As if the very air around him had turned cold, and with it, you felt the chill, creeping into the corners of your own heart.

He rarely got to fight anymore. Couldn’t carve a path through the world to show the power he held. He wasn’t allowed to in this universe, the threat of being sent back to the wastelands always looming overhead. And you know that was tearing him apart. It hollowed him out from the inside. The man who once stood at the center of every battle, the man who demanded the world kneel before him, could no longer reign supreme.

He couldn’t suppress the world anymore. He couldn’t conquer. And without that, there was a vacancy inside of him that no amount of praise or love from you could fill.

You wished you could fill that emptiness for him, but it wasn’t your place. And, maybe, it never was.

You knew it wasn’t your fault. Hell, you knew it wasn’t even his fault; not really, at least. But the fact remained: your relationship wasn’t the same. And as much as you tried to hold on to the echoes of what you’d had, every day you felt it all slipping through your fingers.

And it hurt. Some nights, like tonight, more than you could bear.

You wondered if when he looked at you now, he still saw the person he once admired—or if he just saw another casualty of the war he could no longer fight. You wondered if the love you gave him, the love you thought was unbreakable, was crumbling into dust.

And you wondered, in the silence, if it could ever be changed.

Unknown to you, one of Mark’s variants – the one that sported a mohawk – had been floating just above the house, seemingly unphased by the heavy rains. He had heard every word, felt the crushing weight of the emotional distance between you and his counterpart, and something inside him snapped. The heartbreak of seeing you treated that way when in his universe, you had been everything.

He watched as you stepped out into the downpour, clinging tightly to your red umbrella as you walked down the street. Mark, without thought, took this opportunity. His boots landed with a heavy thud on the front doorstep slowly pushing the door open. Inside his counterpart barely flinched, his eyes flickering over to the doorway before narrowing slightly. He didn’t need to ask who had come in. He already knew.

“You don’t deserve her,” M.Mark’s voice was low, filled with an intensity that was hard to ignore. He stepped forward, his fists clenched at his sides as he kicked the door shut behind himself. His eyes bore into S.Mark, filled with frustration, grief, and a deep, aching anger. “I don’t understand how you can just treat her like that. How can you not appreciate her? After everything? After all the time you’ve spent with her? How could you just shut her out like that?”

S.Mark didn’t move, his eyes locking onto M.Mark’s with the same cold indifference. He leaned back slightly in his chair, his posture relaxed, as though he wasn’t even fazed by the accusation. “You don’t know anything about me, or what I’ve been through,” he said in a flat tone, clearly unbothered by the confrontation. “She’s fine. She’ll get over it. You’ve got no claim on her, Mark. This one doesn’t belong to you.”

The words sent a surge of anger through M.Mark. His eyes blazed, chest rising and falling with every shallow breath. His voice cracked with frustration as he stepped closer. “You don’t know the first thing about love, or sacrifice. You don’t understand how lucky you are to even have her, and you’re throwing it all away because of whatever twisted, cold version of love you’ve convinced yourself is normal.” His fists clenched harder, the tension between them palpable, the air so thick with emotion it would suffocate the average man.

S.Mark’s expression remained unchanged, but there was a coldness in his eyes that betrayed a flicker of annoyance. He uncrossed his arms, standing up slowly, deliberately, his body language suddenly more menacing. “You think you have any right to lecture me? You think your pain means anything to me?” His voice dropped an octave, the words laced with venom. “You’re nothing but a ghost in this world. You’ve already lost. You’re just a sad version of a man who couldn’t even keep the woman he loved alive. And now you think you’re in a position to tell me how to treat her? How to live my life?”

The words were cruel, meant to provoke. But M.Mark didn’t flinch. He took another step forward, his chest heaving with every breath. His eyes narrowed into a cold fury that seemed to burn right through S.Mark. “I don’t give a fuck what you think. If you cross the line with her I will fucking kill you.”

The two of them stood there, face to face, inches away from each other, the weight of their anger and frustration practically radiating off them. There was a feeling that at any moment the calm veneer between them would shatter into a violent explosion. M.Mark was just a hair away from pushing S.Mark to the edge.

But then, the door opened.

You stepped back inside, eyes cast down at first as you shuddered from the cold rain, shaking off and closing your umbrella. You froze when you finally lifted your gaze, seeing the two of them standing inches from one another. You quickly became acutely aware of the silent, threatening tension, and although lost on the details, the look on their faces told you more than enough.

You felt your stomach churn, a sickening wave of confusion and dread washing over you. What the hell had happened? Why did it look like they were seconds away from coming to blows?

M.Mark’s gaze flickered to you, his face softening for a brief moment. But that softness quickly turned to something deeper—something more painful that you couldn’t understand.

For him though, it was a flash of a memory of you – the one that had made his world turn just with a flash of your smile – and the overwhelming longing he had to reach out and grab you. But you were not with him. Not in this life, here. You were not his.

With a single, almost imperceptible shake of his head, M.Mark stepped back, his eyes avoiding yours as if the weight of what he was feeling was too much to handle. “I can’t do this,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.

Your body seemingly acting on its own accord you found yourself moving slightly closer to him, confusion and hurt rising in your chest at the sight of his pained expression. “Are you alright?” Your voice was soft, filled with a tenderness that could smother.

He didn’t look back, his shoulders tense as he walked toward the door. “You deserve more than this,” he muttered almost bitterly, his voice filled with something that was equal parts regret, sorrow, and anger.

With that final remark he stepped out into the storm, rocketing into the sky with unhidden frustration.

“What happened?” you asked quietly, the words stumbling out. “Why was he here?”

Your Mark barely looked at you, his face still cold. “It’s nothing,” he said dismissively, as if the whole confrontation had meant nothing at all. “It’s over. Don’t worry about him. The guy’s got issues.”

You wanted to say more, but before you could form the words Mark took a step closer, his eyes darkening with something you knew all too well—an edge of something physical, something he always used to silence the tension between you two.

“You done with your little hissy fit now?” His voice was low, almost predatory, and his words felt heavy in the space between you. “Because I’m ready to make you feel good again.”

You flushed at his words, a wave of embarrassment and heat sweeping over you. This was the only language he spoke anymore. It was the only thing that ever seemed to break the cold distance he had put between you. The reality of it hit you like a slap—this was what he had reduced your relationship to.

Your heart thudded heavily in your chest as he moved toward you, that same practiced smirk curling at the edge of his lips. He wasn’t asking, not really. His gaze said it all—he was in control, and you were meant to follow. And you, desperate for any semblance of affection from him, would trail him like a shadow.

He stepped past you, his hand brushing against your arm, leading you down the hall toward the bedroom, the tension from earlier still lingering between you like a heavy fog.

But there was nothing left to say. The door clicked shut behind you, and the world outside continued to storm. And ignorant to you, but of course not to Mark, his counterpart had never truly left. He still lingered in the sky above the house, his stare burning into the shingles of the roof as if it would collapse beneath the weight and give him a clear view of you. His fists were clenched at his sides, the muscles in his arms taut with tension. He shouldn't be there. He should be gone, away, anywhere but there. But his body was fixed in that point in space, the pull of something dark and twisted keeping him anchored.

Inside the room, he could hear it—the unmistakable sound of you and him. The other version of him. The version whose world was still illuminated by your light, the one who hadn’t been left in this world with nothing to remind him of his own identity. The one who still had you. Mark's breath hitched, his stomach twisting with something he couldn't quite name. It wasn’t anger, not at first. It was something deeper. Something visceral.

The sounds from inside the room flooded his ears. Your voice, soft and breathless, calling out in pleasure. That’s what did it. The way you sounded so free, so open with him. And then S.Mark’s low growl, his deep, commanding voice that was all confidence, all power. Mark’s jaw clenched, his throat going dry as he turned his head away, as if that would shut out the noises.

Every gasp, every sigh from you made his skin burn, his fingers twitching and reaching out slightly, as if he could feel you beneath his own hands.

That was supposed to be his praise, his obsession, his touch. The things he once gave you in his own twisted way. The things he once thought were proof of his love. But this? This was wrong.

His jaw clenched so hard it ached, and yet, he didn’t move. The sounds of you—his you—and him—the other him—seeped into his mind, poisoning his thoughts, grinding into his chest until he couldn’t breathe. His heart beat so loudly, so painfully, that he could barely hear the noises inside the room. But they were still there, like a hammer driving deep into his skull.

This isn’t right. This shouldn’t be happening.

But it was. And no matter how much he told himself to leave, to escape the twisted knot in his gut, his body betrayed him. He was completely frozen in place, listening. Listening wordlessly to you with him. The sound of you unraveling under the other Mark’s touch, under his control. And it sickened him, but he couldn’t make himself stop.

There was a rawness to it. A harshness in the way S.Mark’s voice filled the room. The way he demanded you. The way he didn’t ask, didn’t plead. He took. He had you, and you—you—were giving it to him, freely, openly. There was no hesitation. There was no fear. Only him.

Marks fingers curled into fists, his nails digging into his palms as if he could physically hold back the rush of emotions threatening to tear through him. It should be me, he thought, his mind a swirling mess of anger and confusion. It’s supposed to be me.

The sound of the bed creaking, the rush of breaths becoming more frantic, more urgent, rips him from his thoughts. His stomach lurches, the bile rising in his throat, but his body betrayed him again. He stayed. He listened. Every sound pulled him deeper into the dark, twisted pit of jealousy and rage that churned inside him. He hated this. Hated him. Hated the way he felt so small above that house, listening to what felt like the final unraveling of everything.

The weight of the silence between his breaths is deafening. He should’ve left. He should’ve stormed away, broke everything, anything to stop this feeling, to stop this moment from ever happening. But he didn’t.

Instead, Mark stayed motionless. The heat of your pleasure mixing with the sickening taste of his own jealousy, the taste of losing you but knowing this you had never been his to begin with.

And even as the noise inside the room escalated, even as the sounds of your pleasure rose higher, Mark still couldn’t force himself to leave. His fingers trembled, his chest tightened, but he stayed. Stayed until it was over, and every shred of sanity was torn from his mind.

→ 𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙏𝙬𝙤 ←

#invincible #mark grayson #invincible fanfic #invincible x reader #mark grayson x reader #invincible show #mark graryson fanfic #sinister mark #mohawk mark #sinister!mark #sinister mark x reader #sinister!mark x reader #mohawk!mark #mohawk!mark x reader #i finally figured out how to make the text smaller #what do y'all think of this formatting?#mark grayson smut

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impish-baby · 5 months ago

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You should totally have a yandere queen caregiver who’s is just obsessed with one of the servants!!!

by the way I love all your writing

Does the swallow dream of flying - platonic yandere queen x servant reader - 👑

(Trigger warnings: reader is hurt offscreen, queen helps them take a bath, threats/mentions of violence not towards reader)

Beatrice has struggled to bear children of her own, it is an unfortunate truth. Perhaps that's why she feels the need to be softer to the younger members of her staff, using them as surrogates for what she can not have. There is one servant in particular that always catches her eye. A bit ditzy, but that is forgivable, the effort and pride they obviously put into their work making up for it. She does not mean to coddle, but they help soothe the growing ache in her chest.

The sight of you sniffling in a pathetic heap on the floor is already enough to anger her, but the fact that you're clutching your reddened cheek only makes matters worse. Combined with the fact that your shirt is stained with hot tea, the queen would like nothing more to hang the perpetrator this instant but she has more immediate matters to tend to.

"You are aware that crying like a child won't help anything, correct?" Beatrice kneels, a firm frown on her face as she pinches your chin between her fingers, turning your head to the side. The handprint is apparent, marring the skin of your face. She'll do better than hang your aggressor, they won't have a hand to strike with at all first.

"Come," she commands, standing up to her full height after releasing you. "Let's get you cleaned up." Once you're back onto your feet, Beatrice is already leading you through the halls, your head bowed in shame. You must think you're in trouble, far from it, but she'll allow you to think so if it keeps you cooperative.

The maids know better than to speak up once they see the look on the queen's face, silently opening the door to her chambers as she marches through while you follow behind like a lost ducking. Her room is massive much larger than your measly quarters, and a stinging fear courses through you at the thought of it also being the king's room.

Beatrice pays no mind to the troubled look on your face however, ordering a maid to fetch you a change of clothes before ushering you into the bathroom. Once inside, she's already rolling up the sleeves of her dress and kneeling beside the tub, starting to run a steaming bath. Bubbles couldn't hurt either, she muses, you deserve to be pampered a little.

The sight of you awkwardly fidgeting in the corner makes her scoff, but she can not deny the fondness in her heart at the image. "Do you expect to bathe in your clothes?" That simple comment is enough to stir you into action, Beatrice having the decency to turn away as you get undressed and slip into the water. When she turns back around, she can't help but smile at the sight of you gingerly playing with the bubbles.

"We'll wash your hair first, alright?" The queen's voice is much softer than usual as she kneels down again, "Back towards me, darling." You comply easily enough, even with how tense you're sitting in the water. Poor thing, you act so much like a scared mouse afraid of a cat, if only you knew how much she adored you. Beatrice hums as she starts to shampoo your hair, scratching your scalp in an attempt for you to relax.

You didn't think her majesty could be so gentle, sure she's never been cruel to you, but that does not make her any less intimidating. She seems...perfectly relaxed at the moment. It's odd. You do not deserve such care, especially not from the queen herself, but you're not brave enough to ask for an explanation.

Your hair is soon rinsed, Beatrice placing her hand over your forehead so no soap runs into your eyes. Her gentle care, along with the warm water makes your already weary form long for rest, almost nodding off in the tub. 'How cute..' The queen coos to herself, resigning to quickly finish up the bath so you can sleep.

You're barely awake by the time she's grabbed a towel for you, clumsily stepping into it before she's wrapping the fluffy fabric around your body. She takes it upon herself to dry your hair as well, but at least let's you dress yourself, only helping button your shirt when it proves too difficult.

Her bed is softer than clouds, you're sure. It only takes seconds for you to drift off with your head in Beatrice's lap, not hearing the bedroom door creek open or the hushed conversation that follows soon after.

#famial yandere #platonic yandere #yandere age regression #yandere agere #forced age regression #platonic yandere x reader #forced agere #yandere x reader #you've got mail! 📨

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oizysian · 5 months ago

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26 // Spoils of war // The Queen’s Prize

Summary: The war is ended and the prize must be claimed.

Pairing: Princess!Wanda Maximoff x Queen!Fem!Reader

Warnings: semi dirty talk, talks of murder, sex

Word count: 940

Kinktober masterlist

“My Lady, the princess has been captured and the king is dead.”

“Good,” I said, sitting straight up on my throne. “Bring her to me.”

The long war was finally over. King Maximoff was dead and his daughter and his kingdom were my prize. I smirked to myself triumphantly, proud of my most recent, and most important victory.

My guards entered the throne room, practically dragging the bound princess along as they made their way to me. She didn’t struggle, but she wasn’t being cooperative either. They tossed her down at my feet in a heap, her soft sobs the only sound in the room.

“Lady Maximoff. It looks as if you and your fathers kingdom belong to me.” She raised her emerald eyes to look at me and I smiled. “Take her to my chambers. I want to claim my prize officially.”

“You monster!” She cried, making an attempt to stand but failing. “I’ll never belong to you.”

My smile never faltered, it just grew wider as they grabbed her again and dragged her out the double doors towards my private room.

I stood from the throne, watching her still form practically being carried down the hallway, her angry eyes burning holes into me until she was far out of view.

I knew I’d better not waste any time in following them up, as it would be rude to have my future wife waiting on me. I followed slowly, bracing myself and walking out regally as I made my way down the hall and up the long, spiral staircase. It gave me time to think.

I finally had the one thing I wanted more than anything else in the world; Lady Wanda Maximoff. Her father had denied my request to marry her and join our kingdoms together, so I took matters into my own hands.

I could hear her yelling as I reached the top of the stairs, guards waiting in front of the double doors that led to my room.

“You may go.” I told them and they nodded, taking their leave.

I took a moment before opening the door, walking in and looking around for my soon-to-be wife. There she sat, in front of the fireplace, her hands still tied behind her back but her legs free.

I approached her quietly and she gasped once she saw me, flames of rage burning in her eyes once our gazes met.

“Don’t come near me!”

I smiled, reaching around her and untying her hands. I leaned in close and whispered in her ear.

“They’re gone. I’ve sent them away.”

There was a beat before she wrapped her arms around my neck, hugging me tightly.

“Oh, I’m so happy!” I responded To her hug in full, wrapping my arms around her waist and holding against myself.

“Me too, my love. It’s a shame your father had to die though.”

“He forbade me from being with you. He had to die.”

I nodded, definitely agreeing with her. If only he hadn’t been so against his daughter marrying a woman, we would have joined forces.

She pressed her lips to my own, reaching up under my dress to remove my underwear.

“Eager?” I teased and she nodded.

“Very. It’s been months since I’ve seen you last. I need to touch you.”

I kissed her, moving us towards the bed. Her hands still moved and explored under my skirts, caressing all the contours of my body as I guided her. The backs of her knees hit the bed and she fell backward and I fell on top of her, both of us breaking out into soft giggles.

“I love you.” I stroked her face, smiling down at her happily.

“I love you too.”

I slid my hand underneath her, doing my best and struggling to undo the buttons on her dress. It needed to come off.

When I finally got the dress undone, she wriggled out of it and I threw it off to the side, leaving her bare before me.

“A princess with no undergarments? Obscene.”

“I knew what was going to happen today. I wanted to be ready for you.”

I kissed her again and again until we were both breathless, my hands trailing down her body to caress every inch of her, trying to memorize every contour, every freckle on her skin.

When I reached the apex of her thighs, she spread them eagerly and I buried my fingers in her tight wetness, moaning as she clenched around me.

“I missed feeling you like this.” I whispered softly against her neck, her hot breath hitting my ear as she panted with every thrust.

“I missed having you inside me.” She reached around and grabbed me by my shoulders, holding me close. “I feel so empty without you.”

She grunted as I fucked her, her walls fluttering around my fingers. She kissed and nibbled at my neck, causing my own wetness to seep through my panties.

“Cum for me, my love.” I cooed softly, wanting nothing more than for her to cum around my fingers again and again for the rest of our lives.

“Harder.” She whimpered and I moved my fingers faster, harder against her, her moans of pleasure becoming louder.

If any of the guards still lingered at the door, despite my order to leave, they would hear that I was claiming the princess as my own, fucking her until all she knew was my name.

She writhed beneath me as waves of pleasure overwhelmed her. I purposely allowed her to scream and moan as she came, wanting everyone to hear and to know that Princess Wanda Maximoff was mine.

#oizysian’s kinktober 2024 #oizysian’s kinktober #oizysian writes #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x y/n

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iamsebastiansstan · 1 month ago

Text

broke you just to own you - NAC x fem!reader

summary - He’s like a man possessed, and he’s come to hunt down what is rightfully his: her first explosive full-body orgasm, the one she promised him, the one that seals his ownership over her sex, the one she’s desperate to give him. wc - 5k - MINORS DNI!

warnings - nasty nasty dirty talk, squirting, pussy slapping, MENTIONS of pee but only because he's so gone in the moment that he says something fucked up to make her cum, cockwarming, loving humiliation hehe

A/N - welcome to my depraved mind, we're only getting started. thank y'all for your continuous support and feedback, means a lot! love you, hope you enjoy <333

taglist - @hoffmansgirl / @blackynsupremacy / @emluvsuxo / @urlitttlevenicebitch / @niteskysx / @lalavenderangel / @nicholaschavezbby / @motherismotheringggg

PART 3 - SERIES MASTERLIST !

Bleary-eyed and messy-haired she stumbles down the stairs, crabby at having woken up all by herself in bed instead of wrapped up in his arms. She hears voices coming from the kitchen and follows that sound, finding Nicholas and Cooper sitting at the counter, sharing leftover fries and laughing about one thing or another.

Without saying a word, she steps up to Nicholas and buries her face in his neck, unabashed in her neediness, and whimpers when he immediately goes to hold her against him tightly.

“Aw, baby,” he coos, “you grumpy?” He chuckles through her nod. “’m here now, (Y/N).”

“Never mess with her post-nap,” Cooper provides helpfully, “or you’ll regret it.”

“Is that so?” Nicholas asks, the smirk evident in his voice, as he pulls her away to look her in the eye. “What’ll happen if I do?”

She glares at him, puts as much heat as possible behind it, making him have to suppress a laugh.

“I don’t think you’re brave enough to find out,” Cooper winks before getting up to fix her a plate of leftovers. “You must be starving.”

She nods. “Yeah. And ‘m cold.”

Nicholas immediately wraps her up in his arms, pulls her back against his chest, the sleeves of his hoodie warm on her exposed skin. Together they watch Cooper walk around the kitchen.

“You got any plans till Wednesday?” he whispers in her ear, making her shudder as he kisses the shell of it softly. She shakes her head no. “Good, because Cooper is letting me kidnap you to my place until you have to leave.”

Feeling her heart rate pick up and hoping he doesn’t notice, she turns to look at him.

“Really?”

“Really. I’ve got all the time in the world and you still in my system. I… I can’t let you go, (Y/N), not yet. ‘s that okay with you?”

She nods eagerly and pulls him in to press a hard kiss against his mouth, not deepening it but letting him know just how good she thinks his idea is. Cooper interrupts them by putting the plate in front of them, clearing his throat as he does so.

“You’ll come see me one more time before your flight, though, right?” he asks, and she softens at the sweetness in his eyes.

Pulling away from Nick, she steps into Cooper’s arms, hugging him tight.

“Of course. And as soon as my classes are done, I’ll be back here. Or you can come visit me!”

“We’ll arrange something for sure,” he mumbles against her shoulder before letting her step away to eat her dinner.

Soon enough she’s packing her suitcase, putting things she’ll be needing at Nick’s place in an extra bag so she can reach for them easier. She’s glad he’s decided to stay downstairs because she needs a moment to herself, needs to reflect on everything going on inside of her when she thinks about these past couple of days. Things seem to be going fast, they’re extremely intense, but she doesn’t think she minds. He makes her feel good, treats her well, fucks her like nobody has fucked her before and she sees no issue in basking in this situation for as long as she can.

It's not like she’s using him, not more than he is using her, at least. All the status symbols he possesses- the money, the fame, his job title- none of them matter to her, all she wants is him. No shame in that, she tells herself, silently checking the room to make sure nothing is forgotten. Even if, she’ll be back here in no time. That thought alone excites her more than she thought it would.

It doesn’t take long for Nick to get her stuff into his car, for her to hug Cooper goodbye, and then it’s just the two of them on the drive to his place, music playing softly.

“You had a good nap, at least?” he asks, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

She’s taking in her surroundings, the lights of the city bright through the darkness of the evening.

“Yeah,” she smiles, “I really needed it. You wore me out.”

He grins at that, shameless, takes her hand in his and kisses the back of it. It makes her stomach flutter.

“How’s your body feeling?”

“I’m wired,” she chuckles, “sore, but… y’know.”

A raise of an eyebrow, a tilt of the mouth, his question, “What?”

Feeling heat crawl up her neck, she decides to be truthful. “I could go again.”

The sound he makes is less of a chuckle and more of a groan, although a mix of both, and she wishes there was a discreet way to rub her thighs together.

“I’ve got plans for us, baby,” he smiles, doesn’t take his eyes off the road, “and most of them include fucking you over and over again. Are you okay with that?”

She nods, throat dry, knowing he isn’t looking at her, knowing he can see her reaction anyway.

“Yeah? You okay with me sending you home with a swollen, come-filled pussy?”

“Fucking hell, Nicholas,” she exhales, turning away from him to drive a shaky hand over her face, already greedy for it.

Through a smile he says, “Answer me, (Y/N).”

Swallowing feels like nails are scraping down her throat, but she does anyway, speaks, “Y-yeah, I’m absolutely okay with it. Need it.”

He hums.

“That you do, little girl,” he says, more to himself than to her, as he pulls into his driveway. "That you do."

When he’s parked his car, he immediately grabs her by the neck, pulls her into a searing kiss that leaves her whimpering in his mouth, pressing closer to get at him better, get the full taste of him, but too soon for her liking he’s pulling away, opening his door and getting out. She’s breathing hard, trying to collect herself, when he opens her door and helps her step out, ever the gentleman.

He grabs her stuff from the trunk and leads the way inside, her eyes widening at how beautiful his place is- warm colors and tasteful decorations, lots of windows to let the California sun in during the day. She adores it already. The house tour he gives her is quick, but she appreciates that he takes the time to do so anyways. Nicholas sets her suitcase down in the bedroom before gathering her in his arms.

“Wanna shower together?” he asks, kisses her after she gives him a nod.

The air around them is crackling with tension, although she feels comfortable in it, knowing it’ll pay off to be patient and go at the pace he’s set. She hasn’t known him long, but if there’s one thing she knows, it’s that there’s a reason for and a certain kind of expertise in everything he is doing, and he always exceeds her expectations.

Her stomach is in knots from all the excitement.

The way he undresses her is unhurried, isn’t even sexual, closed lips pressed against hers and a smile on his face. He makes sure the water is warm, makes sure her hair is up and out of the way, before he pulls her in after him, lets the water soak them both while they giggle into each other’s mouths.

Choosing from his collection of expensive shower gels isn’t easy, but she picks a vanilla scented one, groaning as his strong hands massage it into the tense lines of her back.

“You’re good at that,” she whispers, knows he’ll hear her over the noise of the shower stream.

He steps away to let the water rinse the foam off before pressing a kiss to her shoulder, turning her around to continue washing her front, her doing the same with his gorgeously toned torso. When it comes to washing their private areas, they each do it to themselves, grinning at each other at the strangely mundane way they’re behaving.

“And here I was, hoping to get my hand near your ass,” he pretend-sulks, laughing at the smack she delivers to his chest.

“Not like this, Mister!”

Her heart feels full when he towels her off, hands her his fancy body lotion with a raised brow, lotions her back after she does the same for him. She likes that they smell the same now, with a hint of themselves. Soon they’ll smell like themselves, with a hint of the other.

Back in his bedroom, he walks to his closet and pulls out a pair of briefs, pulls them up his muscular legs, fitting them snugly around his crotch. He slides the doors of his wardrobe closed, revealing huge mirrors on the wood, facing the bed.

Unsure, she moves to her suitcase to get her own underwear when he stops her in her tracks, “No, you stay naked. Get rid of the towel.”

Biting her lip, she does as he asks and pulls the material away from her body, hangs it on the doorknob. Standing there in front of him, stark naked as his eyes move up and down her frame, makes her toes curl in anticipation. If she were to reach out and touch her pussy right now, her fingers would come away wet.

“Fuckin’ stunning,” Nicholas breathes, leaning in to kiss her deeply, already letting his tongue come out to play with hers. She moans as he kisses over her jaw and down to her neck, licking a stripe up her skin until he reaches her ear, whispers, “Do you trust me?”

“Of course,” she confirms immediately, nodding shakily. “Always.”

His smile is small yet dirty, enjoying her admission immensely.

Hand in hand they walk to the bed, Nicholas letting himself fall onto the soft mattress and pulling her down until she’s seated between his thighs, her back to his chest, feeling the rise and fall of every calm breath.

Her eyes shut on their own accord when he starts kissing her neck from behind, nibbling at the skin softly, just how she likes. Smaller hands grip the forearms he’s got around her waist, making him tighten them, making her feel his body right there behind hers.

“Hey, open your eyes,” he whispers, nips at her earlobe, “look at us.”

Confused, she does as he tells her to before the realization hits her: she sees them, right in front of her, his thick thighs framing her hips, her legs open and pussy on display, their arms clutching each other, their faces red.

Embarrassment grips her, then, the lewd image of herself entirely new to her, but when she goes to closer her legs on instinct, his hands are there to keep them apart.

“No, don’t do that. I want you to look at yourself. What do you see?”

His voice is warm and encouraging yet holds an edge of authority, causing her stomach to clench. She wants to fight his command almost as much as she wants to fight her shame, and in the end, she wins the fight against the latter. She widens her legs again, looks at herself, bites her lip shily.

“I see… us. How good we look, how well we fit together.”

“Mhm. What else?”

An inhale, an exhale, she pushes on.

“I see my pussy… how wet you make me. I’ve been clenching since we got out of the shower,” she chuckles, a tinge of ridicule in her tone, “I’m so fucking desperate for you, and I’ve already had you today.”

He hums, letting two of his long, capable fingers drive through her slick folds, making her exhale harshly.

“You’re dripping, baby,” he notes, almost absent-mindedly. “But I want you wetter. I need you to be completely relaxed for what I’m gonna do to you tonight, okay?”

“W-what’s that?”

Unexpectedly he pushes those two fingers deep into her, curls them, punches a spot inside of her that has her entire body freeze up, staring at him through the mirror with wide eyes.

“Shhh, it’s okay, baby,” he soothes, pets at her until she relaxes enough to let him pull out, hand resuming the stroking from before. “I wanna make you come on my hand, (Y/N). You see what you did just now, how you clamped your pussy shut around me? Can’t have that.”

He doesn’t scold her, she knows, he’s stating the truth, but still, she feels vulnerable, feels admonished, eyes welling up with tears.

“’m sorry, Nick, I’m just not used to it, I don’t think I can-“

“Hey, hey, none of that, baby,” he shushes her, takes his hands off her privates and wraps his arms around her tightly, clean hand finding her face and stroking along the soft skin of her cheek. “There’s nothing wrong with being nervous, sweetheart, okay? You just tell me if you want this, and I’ll make it happen. I can get your body to do anything I want it to; you just need to let me guide you through it.”

She chuckles softly, presses a kiss to his lips. “Awfully confident, are we?”

Nicholas’ expression is serious as he says, “Look, (Y/N), I know it’s bad etiquette to talk about this, but I mean it. I have so much fucking experience with this, and I want to show you what your body can do, what you get to do for me if you just give in, okay? You trust me, yeah?”

Enchanted, she stares into his deep brown eyes, the kindness they exude, nodding dumbly.

“Good girl,” he kisses her, then, a lot of tongue and some sharp teeth, before guiding her to lean back against him, to open her legs and resume the position they were in mere minutes ago.

“Fuck,” she exhales as she watches his right hand move over her most intimate parts, as his left hand holds hers against her stomach, watches how he’s just stroking between her outer and inner lips before moving along her slit, alternating like that.

“She’s so gorgeous,” he says, right next to her ear, “and so sweet. Sweetest pussy I’ve ever had, I swear. The way she cries for me, fuck… I wanna make her drench me.”

His words make her want to double over with want, make her want to claw at her skin, create new ways for him to enter her system, stay there and corrupt her from the inside out.

“It’ll make a mess, though,” she pipes up, her eyes trained on where he’s playing between her hips, same as his, “your poor bed.”

He chuckles, kisses her shoulder. “This may feel like a fuzzy blanket, but it’s actually a waterproof cover.” A laugh escapes him at her accusingly surprised face. “Told you I’ve got plans, baby. Plans require, well, planning.”

“Unbelievable,” she groans, no heat behind it.

“What can I say, I love catching you off guard,” he smiles before focusing back on touching her, keeping the sensation light. “What else do you see, c’mon, tell me.”

She huffs, swirling her hips and getting more comfortable.

“You’re such a talker,” she snaps weakly, yelps when he pinches the inside of her thigh.

“Gets you wet as fuck, though, doesn’t it?” She nods reluctantly. “Exactly, and that’s what I need you to be for this to work. C’mon, now, say it.”

Nicholas puts his fingers in a v-shape, pulls her pussy up so the skin of her hood is out of the way, so her clit is exposed for him to see. Her stomach turns, the nervousness at being studied so intently getting to her.

“Ugh, m-my clit is so… swollen. She wants to be touched, w-wants to come.”

He chuckles, grazes the very tip of a finger on his other hand against her nub, holds her tightly through the shudder that passes through her.

“So hard f’me,” he whispers, tortures her with that one digit. “But we won’t use her to make you come tonight, will we, (Y/N)?”

“N-no,” she stammers, throws her head back for a second before looking back up.

“What will we use, tell me.”

“M-my spot,” she breathes, delirious with want, feeling her cunt clench around nothing as it pushes her wetness out. “Gonna come from my- my spot.”

“That’s right,” he husks into her ear, the praise making her skin erupt in a blush as he moves the v of his fingers down to spread her apart, moves a finger to her opening to tease it slightly. Looking straight at the slight gape of herself where he’s holding her open makes her mewl, resisting a thrash against his body. “This is where I’ll fuck into tonight, baby. This is what you’ll give me… you see how you’re gushing already?”

She nods before looking away, burying her face in the side of his neck, unable to look anymore. Shame curls along her spine, shame at being inspected like this, touched like this, shame at loving it so much she could start drooling. And the way he talks about her, sexual in an almost clinical way, God, how does he know just how to get under her skin? She never dared to admit how that objectification, that humiliation, made the spring inside of her core coil just on the right side of too tight.

“Hey, no, don’t do that,” he commands but she ignores him, whines into the sweat-slick skin of his neck while shaking her head no, ignores him until he pulls his hand back and delivers a soul-ripping smack to the oversensitive skin of her pussy, his palm connecting with her center and making a sharp slapping sound.

“Fuck!” she screams, throws herself against his chest as her toes curl, the pent-up tears streaming down her rosy cheeks. The ringing in her ears makes her feel like she’s losing her mind.

Nicholas holds her through it, of course, manhandles her so she opens up for him again, so she settles down and breathes in sync with him, so she calms down and surrenders to the game he’s playing with her body.

“When I tell you to look, you look,” he pants into her ear, tightens his arms around her until she feels like she can breathe again, “and when you don’t, I hurt you like you need to be hurt to finally fucking let me do what you’re craving me to do, okay? Do you fucking understand me, (Y/N)?”

She nods through a sob as he shakes her condescendingly, pushes herself back against him to feel the hard line of his body right behind her, needing to be as close to him as possible.

“Good girl, you’re my good little girl,” he whispers to her, reverence evident in his tone as he strokes her hair back from her sweaty face, as he kisses the tears away from her cheeks, kisses her drooling mouth softly. “Now describe your sloppy cunt to me, c’mon.”

She looks, opens her mouth to say something, groans as more tears leave her eyes.

“Fuck… Fuck, I can’t! I can’t, I’m so embarrassed, I-“

“Shhh, I know you are, baby, but this shit gets you hot, doesn’t it? Makes you so fucking horny for it, huh?”

She nods, unable to do much else, as he coaxes the filth right out of her.

“Baby, I need you to leave the shame at the door when you’re with me. I want you completely unhinged for me, I need you to give me that, do you understand me? I wanna, fuck, I wanna fuck you up, baby, wanna- need’a do bad, bad fuckin’ things to you.”

She’s been so engrossed with how she’s feeling that she never stopped to think about just how effected he is by this whole ordeal, but now it’s glaringly obvious in the way his words seem to rip right out of his chest, the way he stutters over them like even he can’t believe that this is what he wants, the way his breathing is labored and his body is rigid and how he’s keeping her back arched just enough so she wouldn’t be able to rub herself against his cock, his cock that is probably hot-red and leaking with need.

Taking strength from his vulnerability, she lets go, then, lets her mouth run wild with the fantasy she’s often had but never dared to voice out loud, scared of being the dirty girl he wants her to be for him. But this ends now. She’s not scared anymore now, not with him.

“She’s fucking pulsing for you, Nicholas, she needs you,” she whines, a breath punching out of her when he sinks two impossibly thick fingers into her, hooks them slightly for a pinch of the pressure but mainly gives her a delicious stretch. “I wanna feel you in my fuckin’- my fuckin’ stomach, my lungs, my- I don’t know, everywhere at the same time, fill me and claim me and rub your cock all over me so I smell like your come, so I’m- fuck, Nicholas, fuck!”

Crying comes easy to her, whole body feeling like a raw nerve as he shushes her, praises her, my dirty fucking girl, that’s it, give in, let me have you like this, holy shit (Y/N), yes baby, all the while his fingers are wreaking havoc on her insides.

“(Y/N), I need you to listen to me for a second, can you do that?” he asks, slowing his ministrations down until he’s just lazily fingering her, making her feel him but not overwhelming her with the sensation.

She nods dumbly, locks eyes with him through the mirror, doesn’t dare look away.

“’m listenin’,” she mumbles, purses her lips to kiss at his forearm that’s holding her down.

“I’m gonna have to fuck you really hard for you to come for me like this, okay? You’ll scream, and you’ll cry, and you’ll beg me to stop, but I won’t. We need a word for when you really need me to stop, though, okay? For emergencies.”

“Like- like a safe word?” she asks, eyes glazing over at the prospect of him ignoring her pathetic pleas until she exercises her full power and makes him stop.

The smile he gives her is full of pride, knowing. “Exactly, a safe word.”

Thinking is hard, her thoughts flowing slow like molasses, but she mumbles out, “How about red? Classic traffic light system.”

Nicholas kisses her then, a smile on his lips, presses close and smooches every inch of her face he can reach.

“My perfect girl, yes, we’ll do that. Red for when you need me to stop, and if that’s not the word you use, I won’t, okay?”

She nods, pussy clenching at what that means, how intense it’s going to be. If she had the energy to freak out, she probably would, would let her pulse spike and her chest constrict with anxiety, but her entire being is currently reduced to being Nicholas’ little plaything, to keeping herself pliant for him to work into.

His fingers find their way deep inside her again, find that spongy spot that has never been the cause of pleasure for her until he came and turned her world upside down, her body inside out.

Holding back her moans is not even an option as she watches him work her expertly, gaze switching between the point of view from above- where his palm is visible and slapping against her sensitive flesh, where his arm is flexing where it’s mustering up the strength to really abuse the pink insides of her pussy- and the view in the mirror, the front- where the veiny back of his hand is covering her most intimate part, the sight of her thighs shaking along the insides of his legs as he drives into her, obscene noises filling the room along with their heavy breaths.

A squelching noise reaches her ears, then, disgusting in its intensity but gut-wrenchingly hot in its obscenity, and she shuts her eyes tightly when he points it out, chuckles in her ear dirtily.

“You hear that, baby?” he grins, licks into her ear, “Your little spot filling up for me? God, you’re so fucking tight, getting so full… You’ll explode soon, huh? Just a liiittle bit more, c’mon.”

It’s a strange sensation, one that starts in her stomach and makes its way down, seemingly wrapping around her ovaries and forcing her to cramp her insides shut, fight against the onslaught of pleasure.

“Let it happen, (Y/N), don’t try to push me out.”

“C-can’t,” she whines, writhes and thrashes against his chest, kicks her leg out before he quickly reels her in, puts his stronger legs over hers and holds her steady, locked down against his hard muscle. “I’ll- Nick, I’m gonna pee, I don- I don’t wanna pee, I- I can’t-“

“You’re not going to, baby, you-“

“Please, please no more, Nick- hng- please, I’m gonna- no, baby, no-“

The movement of his hand increases and he’s really working his whole arm now, pushing at that spot inside of her, assaulting it with such precision and vigor that it makes her sick with desperation, stomach turning when she notices that she can’t keep it in, no matter how hard she tries. He’s like a man possessed, and he’s come to hunt down what is rightfully his: her first explosive full-body orgasm, the one she promised him, the one that seals his ownership over her sex, the one she’s desperate to give him.

Before she knows it, it’s escaping her: the wet flow of her juices, triggered only by his coaxing, only by the motions of his capable fingers inside of her, soaking his palm slowly but surely.

“Fucking let go for me, baby,” he grits through clenched teeth, brows furrowed as his laser-focused eyes look at her through the mirror, “you won’t pee, that’s just the wetness that’s been building up inside you, my sweet, because this little cunt hasn’t been treated right, has it, hasn’t been fucked like she deserves to be fucked, hasn’t been fuckin’ emptied out like she needs, huh? Ain’t that right, baby? It isn’t pee, don’t be shy, don’t worry.”

Just as she’s about to beg him to unhand her, her insecurity-riddled delirium putting that one word at the very tip of her tongue, the one word that will make him listen, he crashes her system with his hushed words, “And even if it was, you think I’d give a fuck? You think I wouldn’t lap up everything your body gives me, everything your pleasure-drunk cunt gives up for me? I wanna fucking break you, even if it means fucking the piss out of you,” he hisses, words barely audible over the way she screams as she lets go, her control snapping as her pussy sprays from the depth of her body and covers his hand, covers the bed, makes her see stars from how hard she’s clamping up, every single muscle in her body coiled tight.

It feels like it goes on forever.

It travels through her pussy, shakes her core all the way through her stomach up to her empty lungs, scratches at her throat and makes her eyes roll back. Even when he pulls out, lets go of her completely- only his chest against her back- she feels him still, feels that immense pressure inside of her not letting up.

Her hands fly up to cover her face as she starts to cry, heavy sobs wracking her entire body, and it only barely registers when he moves from behind her, lays her down so he can be right next to her, no point of their bodies touching except the hand he’s got in her hair. Nicholas isn’t even shushing her, not this time, instead just letting her cry it out as he provides a grounding presence, a slight pull of her hair so she can have something to focus on.

Time passes, but she doesn’t rush herself, couldn’t even if she tried. She lets her body calm down by itself, lets the sobs subside until they’re mere sniffles, until the breathless gasps for air turn into small hiccups. Only then does he scooch closer to wrap his arms around her, pulling her into his sweat-soaked chest and rocking her back and forth, legs tangled together, his face in her hair.

“You’re incredible,” he chokes out, and when she looks up, his eyes are full of unshed tears, pride oozing out of every pore of his being. “God, (Y/N)… Fuck.”

He pulls her in again and she lets herself be held, gives him the time to come down himself, the control he had over her body and how tight he had to hold onto it surely exhausting for his system.

“I’m so proud of you. So fucking proud. What you just gave me, that was… fuck, baby. My baby.”

“Yours,” she gasps, launches her entire body into his in hopes of being able to crawl under his skin, to wrap herself around his bones so she’d be a part of him forever, even when all that’s left of him is that ivory color and a sliver of her soul.

Their tongues meet messily, desperately, consuming each other with shallow breath, but they don’t take it further. He’s exhausted everything she had to give him for tonight, and he knows it, doesn’t push her past any more limits. She’s grateful for that unspoken decision, although the need to feel him inside of her, satisfy him physically after enriching him emotionally, keeps gnawing at her.

“Baby, baby,” she whispers, grabs his face and digs her nails into his soft cheeks, licks at his bottom lip, “sleep inside of me.”

The widening of his eyes would be comical if it weren’t a moment so sensual.

“You want me to?”

“I can’t- I need it, I can’t have you just outside. You belong inside.”

Her chin starts to tremble at her disorganized thoughts, the inability to get her tongue to form the words properly, but Nicholas shushes her, understands exactly what she means, and he pulls down his underwear to free his cock, hikes her leg up his hip and glides inside of her with one hard thrust.

It feels as if she’s being lit on fire from the inside, but she bears it, takes it for him and for herself, and cuddles closer into his arms.

“I might want to fuck you during the night, baby.”

She nods. “You can. Not now, but later, I’ll wan’ it again. I need your come, Nicholas.”

“Fuck, you’re so sweet, my sweetest girl,” he whispers, kisses her one more time before settling down, nestled deep within her folds.

Sleep overtakes her then, pulls her under, and all she wants to dream about is this moment right here, lasting forever.

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