#this post brought to you by my partner being kind and understanding

[wheelchairtetris]

IT IS OKAY TO BE A BURDEN! YOU ARE ALLOWED TO BE A BURDEN! IT IS NOT A REFLECTION OF YOUR MORALITY!

[jellyfishandry]

W/ a drop-dead gorgeous s/o

(^ From this post)

Characters: Shota Aizawa, Toshinori Yagi

CW: gn or fem reader, reader is described as sweet + other things, you're married to Shota cause I said so, insecurities, slight Toshi angst, giving them flowers, uhh lmk if I missed anything

A/N: This kind of thing is like my favorite thing to write. Also I couldn't resist adding a ship dynamic picture for Toshi's. (Tags: @nnnyxie, @bingewatchintilldawn)

Shota Aizawa

No one knows how he managed to catch your attention. He had a messy appearance, and he could be harsh at times. But you were absolutely stunning. Not to mention you were incredibly polite and sweet. The first time you met his class, almost everyone was shocked. You had probably brought him flowers after the USJ attack to hopefully cheer him up. Just about everyone knew he was married, as he wore a ring, but they did not expect someone so utterly gorgeous and kind to be his partner Hizashi and Nemuri were the only ones you had met, as they had gone to your guys' wedding. But his students are a bit flabbergasted, and are mainly the ones who don’t understand why you married him. But it doesn’t mean they don’t like you, in fact, they love it when you drop by. Mainly because you’re just nice, but also because Shota relaxes more around you, and they have a lower chance of being scolded…  Or higher, depending on how you look at it But Shota is very thankful that you don’t mind the way he looks.  He was initially surprised when he found out you liked him, but he quickly accepted it. Though he will admit he was slightly skeptical at first, wondering if you had an ulterior motive. But you truly just loved him for who he was. And he did eventually understand that you just had pure, innocent intentions.

Toshinori Yagi

He himself has no idea how he pulled you. He doesn’t have a great self image, so he doesn’t understand why you of all people would be interested in him. At the start of your relationship (also when he was crushing) he could barely breathe around you. And early in your relationship people warned him that you might be using him, or something like that, and using your attractiveness to your advantage. He tells them that he knows you would never do that, and he’s correct. It just might take some time for other people to see that. But as your relationship progressed, he became less flustered around you. He’ll occasionally have doubts, and say stuff like “You should be dating someone who still has their life ahead of them.” He was at the point where he was having a hard time comprehending how he could keep living without saving people But you reassure him that he’s the one you want, and that nothing is going to change that After he fought AFO, you brought him some flowers to put on his desk. But you wanted to surprise him, so you didn’t tell him you were coming So when you’re directed to the teachers lounge, there’s some awkward silence before he stands up and goes towards you. “You brought me flowers.?”  He seriously didn’t expect you to get him anything, much less a bouquet of flowers  He’s very grateful for the flowers, and he’ll keep them and then press them when they dry out (they’re sunflowers.) He wants to kiss you, but he feels that doing it in front of the other staff members (specifically Present Mic) wouldn’t be the best idea. And out of the students, Izuku is the first to find out, as he’s known Toshinori the longest.  You probably end up calling him when he’s training him, and Izuku is able to tell reasonably quickly that whoever he’s talking to is very special to him. But he ends up meeting you when the other students do.  And when you are introduced to them, you both receive a lot of questions. But in the end everyone likes having you around, and Toshinori is thankful for you and loves you very much.

This is the vibe you and Toshi give off

(The tweet is not mine)

|| Navigation ||

[telanadasvhenan]

thinking more about the psychological aspect of solavellan, and before I start, I'd like to stress that this is NOT CRITICAL of it, I actually think it's what makes part of the dynamic interesting. My word isn't the be all and end all, however, this is just my musings on the topic :] Also, REALLY long post! so, more under the read more lol

From Lavellan's point of view, I would personally struggle to see her trusting another lover or close one again for a long time, if ever again. I don't really think people ever talk about the real impact of the things she goes through, or what solas put her through, and the hurt as a result of it. The relationship is never defined between the two of them, it's always spoken about in vague undetermined words from their companions and poetic elvish between the two of them. Are they lovers? companions? partners? it's really up to the player. Leliana says that "you were close", Sera says Lavellan is "in it." Vhenan means home, heart, it's not a word said lightly imo and he tells you he loves her by their second kiss. It's never an official thing, so how secure can Lavellan truly feel?

This could go both ways when it comes to the break up. Crestwood, as a scene, is so interesting to me because the first portion seems like a man brought to his knees by weakness for the woman he loves. The two of them never cease to touch, fingers entwined, shoulders brushing, skin to skin. It's so reminiscent of how Lavellan matches his Hallelujah cadence. They're two parts of a song singing together. It's a gorgeous scene and it's understandable how so many are angry at how it ends because the whiplash between how it starts and what it leaves you with is severe. Imagine this from lavellan's shoes.

You're desperately in love with someone at odds with your people, who is wonderful and enticing and smart. Loving solas feels like loving the whole world, like being free and connected with the stars. But you don't know what this is. And, if you thought you did, how far can you presume? Is Lavellan always on edge, scared to love him deeper and richer than he loves her? or is she in a false sense of security, assuming his affection is forever hers. So when he not only breaks away your faith and trust in your history, plus potentially the vallaslin, she is clearly deeply upset. This isn't a minor fact that simply can be swept aside. The vallaslin is important. And Solas, even with the best intentions, has hurt her. He knows it and there's a reason why he apologises (bc he wimped out on the real truth). How much more does he know about her people that he has refused to tell her or kept from her by omission? Can you imagine the embarrassment, the utter humiliation of that secret? how many memories of them together where she replays his distaste for her people in her mind, knowing that he has access to knowledge that could change her perception of her past? Its ALOT. and thats even before the breakup.

Solas is not kind about the break up. It's rushed (impulsive to me) and doesn't do their connection justice. His composure cracks in places and it's very unlike him. It absolutely blindsides the player, so imagine being in Lavellan's place, AFTER THE VALLASLIN? personally, I wouldn't have been able to function. I half suspect that a sad, calm Lavellan is also in shock or disassociation. Because how else do you cope? The lack of communication between them alone is enough to raise my eyebrows. He promises answers. He confides that she saw through his mask and doesn't tell her what was real, and what was fake. He has given her a kernel truth whilst keeping her in the dark. Everything he told her could be a false, imaginary polite mask or it could be the truth. Where does it end? Where does he begin? Where does she stand?

I don't know if everyone has experienced what it's like to be ghosted or for a friend to simply disappear one day, but it changes you. I say this as someone who has both been avoidant as well as anxious, but you never recover. Someone disappearing like that makes you doubt any reassurance that people won't just evaporate from your life. So when Solas just disappears, the game's single conversation with Leliana feels a little lacking to me. I understand that they can't really dedicate a lot to it, I get that, so I'd like to fill it in. At first, it's search parties. Solas wouldn't just leave her like that. He promised her answers. He started another mural just before they left for corypheus. He didn't intend to just leave, surely.

Days, weeks and months pass. The question is worse than the truth. Is he dead? Did he use them? Was he being truthful when he spoke to her in those ruins, or another polite mask he could hide behind? Is it better if he's dead or better than he didn't deem her worthy enough to even say goodbye? We, as the players, obviously know this isn't true, but she doesn't know that. Does your lavellan assume the worst and be overcome with grief that her one love, her heart, her home, was nothing more than a lie of omission? or is there anger there at his betrayal of her trust once more? I seriously doubt it was easy to forget or dismiss. That kind of disappearance ruins your trust with people. Something. Anything would have been enough.

Again, this is all my opinion on how these emotions would play out and DEFINITELY NOT canon nor do they have to be! But I seriously struggle to see how Lavellan could even come to heal from these wounds within even a two year time skip. By the time of trespasser, almost everyone has left her side. She's almost entirely alone again, save Cullen and Josie (and leliana if she's not divine). And thats okay: they all have rich lives to return to. But that must just reaffirm to her that no one will stay. She is alone. How does she trust again?

And then there is Fen'harel. Lavellan's reaction to fen'harel has always lacked the fear I kind of hoped would be there? I mean this isn't just a minor deity, this IS THE antagonist of her entire faith. I'm assuming that she's lost hope in the gods, even though it's confirmed to her that they're real, but that message has been a part of her since childhood. So learning that he is the dreadwolf, again not from him, but from the fragments of his past must cut her deeply.

Her love was never who he said he was, she knows this, but who is the real man? She's never known him in a context where he can truly show her. Her love is fragmented between each identity he holds. Her trust that he is who he said he is fragments with it. The knowledge that not only has he been watching the inquisition, her, for years without a single hint that he lives or is okay must destroy her. Could you imagine how insignificant you must feel to him? And he essentially affirms to her that yes, in the greater scheme of things, his love and hers are inconsequential. They cannot matter to him because he cannot strive from his path. His indulgence was a mistake. And it's undeniably cruel. I love solas and I cannot argue that he was kind to Lavellan because he wasn't. To me, there is no way to see his actions as kind. Understandable, absolutely and definitely without malicious intent.

Lavellan learns that he loved her just as deeply, if not more. He loved her with all his heart and it did not matter. She changed him and it has only brought him more pain. He loves her too much to even allow her near him, to even give himself that weakness. They are apart from each other in an endless distance, only the two of them in the world. No one else.

Obviously, each Lavellan is different, and I've made a lot of assumptions, but I think it's worth considering. How do you love someone again after all of that? How much can you rebuild your faith after what you have learnt. Lavellan has loved a "god" (I know he's not a god, but for all intents and purposes, he has the power of a god and wears an evanuris crown.) and in turn, a god has loved her. And he left her with one last embrace that will leave its mark on her forever, then he leaves once more. Lavellan is alone.

Each love after is met with suspicion, distrust and comparison. Lavellan is entirely changed. How many pieces of her can be taken away until she is no longer herself? Each person wears a new mask she cannot determine. Where do they begin? Where can she find herself?

How lonely it must be to love someone like Solas and be at the other side of an endless distance.

[bugflies00]

sorry this is referencing a few month old post/s you made about the dream situation and a question you’d asked about dream stans, you can delete this msg if you want since it’s not as relevant anymore. Again I’m sorry if this is weird or you don’t gaf (that’s fair bc who does lol)

TW for grooming and dream being fucking gross. You can just scroll fast and delete if you don’t want to read or deal with this, I understand that

-

To preface Im about Tommy’s age now, when I was 15-17, used to be a huge dream stan, and I was very vocal about defending him online. —I was extremely parasocial and weird, and looking back on it I really regret how I acted.

So. Idk how much people who weren’t stans of his saw, but dream- as stupid as it sounds- was our friend.

He had bath calls with us, sleep calls with us, he told us in depth about his personal life and his health issues and his trauma and his moods and his habits and just basically everything. Most of his interactions with us was through his discord, and then someone in the fandom would stream his discord calls for people who weren’t there. A running joke was that dream had a parasocial relationship with us. there was absolutely no gap between creator and fan, he followed me more than once, he brought fans onto his discord streams and talked with them and he knew a good amount of us by name. He called us cute and talked about how much we all (as individuals) meant to him,

when drama happened he’d usually either do a space/call or go on his private and vent to us, there were I think two separate times he’d have full panic attacks over drama happening, and we’d have to talk him down. He also would, when responding to callouts or accusations, use arguments that his fans were making.

He did this during almost all his pitfalls, including the grooming allegations, his wording was often taken word for word from tweets by people I was friends with. I dropped him after the initial allegations, but for a while after i still checked in bc i was really hoping he’d be innocent (he wasn’t) and i can confirm he still does this. He also regularly dmed his fans, mostly his black fans, to ask for “help” on being less racist.

I don’t use the word “grooming” lightly, but dream was and is absolutely grooming his audience. Thats why dream stans seem so cult-like these days. The amount of guiltripping, lying, forcing an us vs them mentality, and manipulation I saw this man pull was actually sick. He’d frequently, privately, to us, vent about tommy or quackity, and about how “all his friends hated him” and “we were all he had left” (legit, not joking). He is extremely good at emotional blackmail, he is good at making his fans hate other creators and turn on them, he is very good at utilizing his tears and using wording that he knows will make his mostly teenage fanbase think he’s a good kind person.

He wants to impress on his fans that he really was just a kind person, the only kind person and the only voice of reason. That’s why when the Cantu thing happened, he started posting “messages” of him being so kind to the Uber driver. He needs his fans to think he’s a kind and loving person, and that Tommy and quackity and literally everyone who’s pulled away from him was just a fake friend who couldn’t be trusted. He somehow was always, always the one being fucked over.

I remember when I told my friend about dream (this friend had a completely neutral opinion on him and barely knew the guy beyond his manhunts) and he told me that sounded like grooming.

He gradually isolated his (primarily young, female) fanbase using private accounts, discord calls, Snapchat, and whatever else. He got extremely personal with us far beyond the level any creator should be, he used kindness and flattery (like calling us “mature”. Also legit) to make us feel genuinely loved by him, again, NOT in the way a creator loves their fans. In the way a friend loves their friends, even in the way a partner loves their partner. He lashed out at us and had panic attacks when we did criticize him, he used tactics to make us think he was always right and good, and more than that, make all his detractors seem like terrible people out to get him AND us, he played himself out to be the perpetual victim and used carefully cut clips and emotional manipulation (like how he brought up his ~poor innocent family~ when harassing quackity. Weaponizing trauma like that was something he did ALL THE TIME to us whenever he was criticized.) in order to use us against people he didn’t like, making us take the bullet for him.

He uses his kindness and supposed goodness as a weapon, he used Tommy’s own trauma around doxxing against him when Tommy dared to criticize him (“I supported you when you were getting doxxed, yet you won’t do the same for me?”)

He used trauma to relate to his audience, making us feel like he was the only person who got it.

It’ll sound stupid, but it was genuinely really scarring. The way he made me and my friends feel was so confusing. I often found myself feeling used and violated, but also like I was in debt to him. I dreaded when he’d have fans on call, I dreaded him but also he felt like all I had. The tone of him and the fandom was that “we have to defend him at all costs, they’re out to get him and we’re the last line of support he has”. It was embarrassing, it was stressful, it was horrible. I wasted so much fucking time and energy on him.

it was really traumatic and distressing, especially as a teenager who’d already been at a vulnerable point and used him as an escape originally. I know that sounds melodramatic but I mean it.

He is a groomer through and through. He’s barely getting any new fans, but he’s barely losing any either bc the grasp he has on them is so tight.

Worst of all, if you leave the fandom, you’ll lose your friends and become an enemy. He encourages that behaviour and that mentality. He encourages harassment of his ex-friends, he encourages harassment of anyone who doesn’t like him. He wants you to feel like he’s the only good person, and like he’s the only one who will care about you. And I know at least in my experience that the way I acted when I was a fan of his did genuinely cause me to feel alienated in my social life. I lost friends, I felt like I couldn’t talk to anyone “safely”. That’s how he wants his fans to feel, because at some point he really is all you have.

And that’s why dream stans are still sticking around. It’s at the point where the only way they’ll leave is on their own volition, and the more publicly fucked shit he does, the less hope I have that they’ll do that.

i don’t have much to add but i agree, and several people i know who used to be big dream fans also agreed that there was a heavily insidious ‘us vs them’ atmosphere

[readychilledwine]

Cuckold

✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth✨️

Quick authors note- It feels a little ironic to be using Rhys and Feyre for this kink since one of my favorite Eris lines comes from when he's chasing Feyre and Lucien.

“Right. Rumor has it you two have run off together, cuckolding Tamlin.” His grin widened. “I didn’t think you had it in you, little brother.”

Anyways! Traditionally, a cuckold is a husband or boyfriend of a person who has sex with other people (be it cheating, sex work, separated). In modern kink terms, cuckold, or a cuck for short, is when a man gets sexual arousal through watching his partner have sex with someone else. There is a female equivalent, cuckquean, but I made the choice to focus on poor Rhysie being left out.

This type of play falls into the voyeurism and exhibitionist category but has become a type of play that is having an increase in popularity (and hurt feelings from insecure partners). Part of the appeal of cucking is mental degradation and humiliation, another is competitive drive.

This type of play requires security on both ends and understanding from the third party involved. This typically isn't a type of play you'd want to engage in with a stranger you do not trust, nor someone who is too close to the couple. While all parties are consenting, the first time around this kink can be interesting and cause some potentially bad results if not handled with tack. Open communication and safe words are a must in this type of play regardless of if restraints or anything else gets brought in. The last thing anyone would ever want is a relationship ending over something that was supposed to be fun 💜

💕Peep the Valentines Day List Here💕

💙 Peep Bound by Fate if you haven't since Kaylee makes a brief appearance 💙

As always, NSFW below the cut

Feysand x Helion

Warnings - voyeurism, dirty talk, unprotected sex, surprise third party, Helion's thighs mentioned, post pregnancy body insecurities, restraints

A/N - There's a brief Kaylee appearance. Nesta would have been too jealous, Elain would have gotten shy, Kaylee is just confused on why she's getting to see Helion's thighs on a random Tuesday.

“I would have never taken you for this kind of male, Rhysand.” Helion glanced out the window, overlooking the beautiful snow capped valley Rhysand had hidden for years.

Rhys sighed. “She needs it and I am not against it. She has not felt as confident as she once was in her body, and having not one but two high lords worshiping her may be the answer.”

A single perfect brow went up as Helion shot Rhysand a questioning look. “Did the little heir?”

“Stretch mark scarring, she's a little less toned. I think she looks twice as delicious as before, but she does not believe me.”

Helion nodded, eyes sympathetic and soft. “Motherhood is hard. She's exhausted, she's losing her sense of self, her hands probably do not even feel like her own anymore. It is understandable she feels less appealing to you lately.”

A soft knock on the door had Rhys standing, moving to it with a smile. “Hi, honeybee.”

“Rhysie!” Kaylee paused, eyes locked on Helion. “What are Helion and his thighs doing here?” Helion snorted, looking to the youngest sister with a smirk as she crossed the room.

“Mother above, Kaylee.” Azriel entered behind her. Kaylee had already gone to the bassinet, picking up her cooing nephew. “How long are we taking him for?”

Rhys and Helion shrugged, causing Azriel to pause before grabbing Kaylee. “What's wrong, shadowsinger? Don't want her to get ideas?”

“From you? Absolutely not. Let's go, baby.” Azriel took her and Nyx away before Kaylee could question the impromptu date night and the appearance of the Day Lord. “She's still adorably innocent,” Helion looked to Rhys. “You must convince her to play next.”

Rhys shook his head, eyes wide in fear. “Not Kaylee you'd have to convince.”

Surprising Feyre had been easy. She arrived home to Helion sitting in Rhysand's spot at the table. “Hello beautiful.”

The smile that graced her face was capable of moving mountains. “Helion! What are you doing here?”

He motioned towards the table. “Your mate got a little tied up, asked me to come have dinner with you.”

“Let me go grab Nyx-”

“No need to do that, Feyre. He's with that sweet little sister and her brooding mate.”

Feyre paused, “What is Rhys tied up with then?”

“Currently?” Helion set down his glass of wine, shifting in his seat and uncrossing his legs. “Spidersilk based ropes. We can change that if you would like, though.” It was then that soft tug came, calming her and letting her know that everything was okay. “He's quite pretty when he's bound up. Would you like to see?”

The answer she gave was breathless, eyes fluttered shut. “Yes.”

He stood, taking her hand in his and leading her to her own bedroom. Rhysand glared at Helion from the chair he was tied down to before smirking at his wife. “Hello, Feyre Darling.” He tried to pull at the ropes again before rolling his eyes. “When you told me to ask Azriel to tie me down, I had imagined other places, Helion.”

The lord of day shrugged, hands lingering on Feyre's upper arms as he stood behind her. “You said you watched to watch me fuck your wife,” those hands slid down bringing one of her own to his lips. “You also said you did not know if you could handle it. Restraints seemed to be the perfect solution.”

Rhys leaned his head back, smiling towards the ceiling. “Go ahead then,” he motioned between them the best he could. “Fuck her if she'll have you.”

Soft lips came to Feyre's ear as she stared at Rhys with a questioning look. “You have control, beautiful. If you want me to leave, I will leave. If you want me in your bed, I will be in your bed.”

Feyre released a breath, all thoughts leaving her mind. “My body-”

“Is wonderful, magic, and stunning,” Helion kissed the tip of her pointed ear, relishing in the way she shivered. “You created life, selflessly for the male sitting in that chair.”

Rhysand's eyes had darkened, the scent of his arousal already filling the air as he watched Helion's hands move to the bed of Feyre's dress and soft kisses continued on her ear. “I know you want to, darling.”

“My body-” Helion looked to Rhys and put a hand to Feyre's mouth silencing her before forcing her to walk to the mirror in their room.

“Look at you. Look at every beautiful blessed inch of you.” The command went straight through her, settling in her core as it did. His hands found the ties of her dress. He searched her face for any sign of true resistance and hesitation before pulling and watching the fabric fall. “You are sensational, Feyre. Your new curves fit so beautifully.” Her eyes fluttered shut, body leaning against his for the heat. “Let me show you, exactly how beautiful I find you?”

She nodded, turning in his arms. The first kiss was testing, slow and gentle to see if there'd be more than a soft groan coming from her mate. She pulled apart in time for Helion to lift her, carrying her to the bed and laying her down so her head would hang over the edge, staring directly at Rhysand as he squirmed against the restraints.

He wasted no time, kissing down her neck, smirking at the soft noises he so easily was pulling from her. “So sensitive,” he nipped gently at her pulse point, eyes looking to where Rhys was already struggling. “I'd love to worship you, Feyre, but your mate is already struggling from how badly he'd like to join.”

“Fuck him,” she whispered softly.

Helion couldn't help the feline like smirk gracing his face as Rhys glared. “We will. Later.” He flipped her below him, fingers going to the waist of her panties before bringing them down her muscled legs.

His skilled fingers found her core, running up and down before pushing in. Feyre whined loudly, eyes rolling before snuggling into the bed and pushing her hips back. Helion set a rhythm, pumping those digits into her to open her up , curling them as he needed to and saw fit to turn her into a mess.

He heard Rhys whimper, eyes rolling as his head went back and he knew. He knew Feyre was sending every drop of pleasure she felt down the bond, ensuring Rhysand felt it to. Her own moans began to increase as her hips met every movement of his fingers. “Look at your mate,” Helion commanded. “Look at your mate as you cum on my fingers.”

She fell apart easily, body and mind so ready and wanting for attention. She screamed his name, whimpering softly as she rode a wave of bliss. He worked her through the high through every second of her walls clenching around those fingers. When he finally pulled them out, he brought them to her lips, cock twitching as he got the smallest preview of what the High Lady could do.

Rhysand hadn't taken his eyes off of them. His cock was aching and leaking as he watched Helion remove his pleaded clothing before forcing Feyre onto her hands and knees. She sent him every single second of pleasure as Helion's cock pushed into her, stretching her wider than his did. “Fuck,” Rhys muttered under his breath, pulling and moving to try to free himself and at least work his cock.

She looked so pretty, mouth hung open as she moaned loudly, eyes squeezed shut in bliss. Helion's eyes met his and Rhys nodded, hoping the desperation of needing to watch Feyre be fucked and cum for another male wasn't etched into his beautiful features.

Helion gave her a teasing thrust, cock twitching at the whine that came back from it. “How do you want it?”

“Hard.” The need in her tone made his hands grip the plush skin of her hips tighter.

“As the High lady commands.”

Lightning shot through Feyre and Rhys as soon as Helion began that punishing pace. He was hitting every single one of her nerves, heavy cock stretching her wider than she'd ever been. She looked down, lost in enjoying her pleasure only to have him tangle a large hand into her hair, pulling her head back up. “Look at him. Look at how much power you have over him, at how damn desperate he is.”

Rhys was moving constantly in the chair now, growling occasionally with Feyre's moans of Helion's name. He longed to be under her, licking and sucking her clit as Helion rode her, fucking her into a mindless state of bliss.

As if sensing what Rhysand wanted, Heliha's free hand moved to her core, circling her bundle of nerves with gentle fingers. “Oh gods, yes!” Feyre was so close already all three of them could taste it. Her orgasm was humming in the air, crackling like electricity and fire. “Fuck! Keep going, please!”

Helion looked to Rhys again, seeing the male squirm, back arching off the chair as his jaw arched. A damp spot stained his dark slacks, growing by the second as he watched, as he felt. He began pounding into Feyre harder, feeling her walls begin twitching more and more.

It was as if time slowed when they both came. Mountains shaking, the sky switching from a sunset to full blown night. She was screaming his name while Rhys roared hers.

Helion fell over the ledge seconds later, pulling Feyre close to him as he did so Rhys had to watch as he made a mess of her. He allowed Feyre to lower down to the bed as his high closed.

He allowed her a few moments to breathe before pulling both arms behind her back and forcing her up. He walked her to Rhys before putting her on her knees. “Take his pants off and clean your mate. It's time we cash in on that threesome he said we could have.”

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr

Valentines Day Taglist:

@sfhsgrad-blog @amara-moonlight @eternallyelvish @novaksangel @teenageeggscissorslawyer @thisblogisaboutabook @amygdtjhddzvb

@justasillylittlegoofyguy @avajustreads

@littlestw01f @azriels-shadowsinger @acourtofladydeath

Rhys taglist:

@tothestarsandwhateverend @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @avajustreads

Feysand:

@avajustreads

[songmingisthighs]

High End

group : ateez

pairing : hongjoong × model!reader

genre : smut

wc : 2.8 k

warning : explicit smut; oral (m receiving), alcohol consumption, degradation (??), unprotected sex (just no), hongjoong being cocky, mc being a filthy sub, bathroom sex ?, cum eating, idek man it’s confusing like there’s slight spit play ig? and like some pussy slapping, unrealistic depiction of sex. if your sex after this sucks pls don’t come at me. not my fault your partner is not kim hongjoong.

a/n : it’s ass oclock. literally the witching hour like 3.33 am. if i don’t make sense, i am not sorry. you are reading the horny thoughts of a delirious woman who just saw kim hongjoong dressed in balmain and suddenly she got inspired to write about this genre of hongjoong. it’s hongjoong. how can i not? any complaints should be addressed to my chinese lawyer. sue mi.

a/a/n : this is a repost of the first high end fic that somehow did nawt show up on any of the tags I'm seriously so sick of this

buy me coffee?

Kim Hongjoong is a powerful man and you know it.

You saw him when he was invited by Olivier Rousteing himself to get a sneak peek of the newest line. It was obvious to everyone there that Kim Hongjoong was a new face, he had never been seen in the fashion scene before and yet he suddenly appeared next to Olivier himself like they were old racquetball buddies. Honestly, it kind of seemed like Hongjoong was simply Olivier’s newest pet, a fascination of his worldly inspiration.

Or so you thought.

Kim Hongjoong easily commands any room he’s in no matter what he was doing. The first time you laid eyes on him was when he was being introduced to the venue owner. ‘Soft’ was the first thing you thought of him followed by 'delicate’. You have never seen a man with such stature to seem inviting yet absolutely forbidden. There was this aura building simply by him smiling at people and making small talk. There was a moment where your eyes met and you swore you saw a glint in his eyes that seemed… possessive. Your model friends told you to pay him no mind but even as you were called to disrobe and do final touches backstage, your eyes didn’t leave him. Neither did he on you.

Throughout the show, through wardrobe changes, you notice that Hongjoong too experienced some changes of his own. He was eyeing you in a way that was rather different than when you both first laid eyes on each other. The outfit the stylists put on you felt almost like nothing under Hongjoong’s gaze. You convinced yourself that he was eyeing the material and the styling or even the makeup but no, he was practically undressing you. Your assumption was further supported when you saw how his gaze shifted from the model who went before you to you. His rounded orbs that peeked from his sunglasses slanted, his bottom lip sucked between his teeth, his crisp suit showed a noticeable rise of his chest that remained until you turned around, and when you reached the end to strike one last post, you saw him ducking his head to watch you as he let his sunglasses slid down his sharp nose and licked his bottom lip.

So obviously when Olivier brought him over to introduce him to you, you couldn’t help but be intimidated. But when Olivier said that Hongjoong was intrigued with you, you felt your toes curl and your breath hitch. It was even worse when he took your hand gently and planted a soft kiss on the back. The motion was slow and steady as if he was appreciating every minuscule welcome of his gesture from you. Electric shocks coursed through your body from the spot where his lips lingered just a tad bit too long. Not that you were complaining though, you liked the feeling when he made contact. For some reason, the littlest touch felt addicting, it left the spot he touched with a warm sensation that you craved even seconds after it was over. Not only that, but the way he spoke was alluring. Of course, he tried speaking English to you and Olivier, and while it was good enough for you to understand, his manager took over and helped translate. All this time you thought French was the sexiest language but apparently you were wrong because suddenly Hongjoong’s aura changed once he was in his element. That room was his element and you couldn’t peel your eyes off of him, it was as if you were in a trance. You hadn’t even realized that Olivier excused himself and Hongjoong to attend to the guests, wanting Hongjoong to meet some of the people from Balmain itself. While Olivier simply turned and walked away, Hongjoong took a step towards you, tucked your hair behind your ear and smiled a devilishly gentle smile.

“I hope to see you soon.”

Though it was phrased like a request, you realized that it was very much a demand. With eyes that dropped to the hand he kissed, he looked back up to you and left with a not-so-subtle wink.

Had anyone else seen the both of you interacting, they would’ve immediately tried to cut the sexual tension with a sword and they would’ve done it so easily. Kim Hongjoong is a powerful, influential man who knows a lot of things that are in his element. But what he knows most is what he wants and moreover, he knows how to get what he wants. You hadn’t even realized that he slipped something into your hand until you looked at it.

A room key.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It wasn’t clear how it happened, it wasn’t clear when exactly it happened. But you found yourself between Hongjoong’s manspreading legs in the bathtub, sucking his cock as he took sips of his Moet messily. Droplets of the bittersweet liquid fell from the corners of his lips down to your face and into your busy mouth. The taste of his precum mixed with expensive alcohol somehow made your head swirl as if you were experiencing a drug-induced high. You were never one to analyze the taste of cum, but you had a sneaking sensation that rather than the alcohol, it was Hongjoong’s cum that made the alcohol taste better. Maybe it was some sort of a drug, Kim Hongjoong that is, he was your drug. Through your heavy lids, you could see Hongjoong smirking down at you with maniacal ease playing on his lips, taunting your presence and your work. The golden liquid in the tall glass was swirled around to further emphasize the power he had between you. While it seemed like he wasn’t affected much by your greedy mouth trying to coax an orgasm out of him, the way his cock twitch inside your mouth said otherwise. You knew that having him was a good idea ever since you first laid eyes on it when Hongjoong oh-so-casually pulled the tie of his bathrobe to reveal his boner. Never have you been so attracted to someone’s genitals but you knew you just had to have that pretty thing in your mouth.

“You like this, don’t you? You’re enjoying yourself much more than I’m enjoying my cock between your lips,” he mocked. Usually, you wouldn’t appreciate being degraded like that, a sexual act in its own nature is explicit and dirty but somehow he made it sinfully pleasing. You couldn’t help but clench at how he was talking down at you, mocking you for being desperate for him. His chuckle sent a wave of vibration that reached your tongue, “I can see your cunt clenching at nothing. Do you really want me that bad? Do you like my cock that much?” he taunted. The fact that the bathtub was facing a window alluded you momentarily, you were so focused on sucking off Hongjoong that the whole world almost literally blurred away.

For Kim Hongjoong and Kim Hongjoong only, you were nothing but a toy that he could collect and play with however he wanted. But you had no issue with it as upon realization, Hongjoong is a man who appreciates art. Whatever he does has a meaning and the meaning is more often than not uniquely beautiful. To be the art that he possesses to appreciate, was like the highest honour you could ever reach.

The more you tasted him, the hungrier you were. As your head bobbed to take more of him, wanting to get him to cum on your tongue so you could selfishly guzzle his juice for yourself. “Greedy, greedy girl,” he said almost in a disappointed manner as he ran his hand down your hunched back down as far as he could reach, “How can something so beautiful be so sinful?” he sighed. Your mouth detached from his cock when you felt him drag his fingers from just above your ass and up. The feeling of his nails marking you ever so slowly was thrilling; your pussy dripped with arousal, mixing into the warm, soapy water, and your spine arched as goosebumps rose in the path that Hongjoong made. Had you not been kneeling on the tub, you would’ve definitely slipped and possibly injured yourself.

Hongjoong watched in awe as your face contorted in pleasure. He watched as your bottom lip trembled and eyebrows furrowed while your eyes shone with the help of the accumulating tears that gathered from the pleasurable sting. The only thing Hongjoong regret at that moment was how he couldn’t make a baroque painting out of your erotic expression. The lines forming on your face told all the emotions that you were feeling as if it was telling its own story and explaining the harmony. Looking south, your trembling breasts made your state somehow more precious; the stiff peaks looked so inviting but the fleshy mounds warned him to treat you delicately. In contrast to the night sky that served as a backdrop, you looked like a star in his eyes.

Without wasting time, Hongjoong slid into the tub, joining you in a kneeling position as he turned your body to face the window. The gleaming lights of Paris in the night framed the reflection of you with Hongjoong pressing his body tightly to your back. For a moment, you could feel the smooth head of his cock prodding around your pussy, collecting your arousal as if he wanted to collect them so as to not go to waste. Slowly and carefully, you felt Hongjoong’s arms making their way up your arms. Your face heated up when you felt him lift them and lock them behind his neck. “Keep them there. Can you do that for me?” Your eyes fluttered at the feeling of his hot breath and lips on your ear. This man truly knew what he was doing. Which was why he slapped your cunt when you didn’t give him an answer. “I was asking you,” he growled which made his chest vibrate on your back. With a nervous lick to your bottom lip, you meekly nodded, “Yes, sir, I can,” though you tried, you couldn’t hold the crack of your voice which thankfully Hongjoong found adorable so he didn’t even comment on it. “Good,” the hand that slapped your cunt stayed in its place with two of his fingers nestled between your nether lips comfortably. His other hand soon found purchase between your breasts to rest on your sternum. He must’ve felt how quick your heart was beating because he began grinding his cock on your cunt accompanied by his fingers tapping on your clit into the rhythm of your heartbeat. Even if you willed yourself, and you did, you couldn’t help it when your hips jolted into the taps, wanting more stimulation from his fingers as your hole clenched, forcing some of your arousal to drip more to Hongjoong’s cock.

In one swift move, Hongjoong impaled you with his length. The sudden impact almost sent you reeling forward, hurtling even, had it not for Hongjoong’s surprisingly strong grip on your body. Each thrust from his hips sent your thighs trembling in pleasure and it was only intensified when his fingers decided to toy with your clit. Melodious grunts and moans on top of sensuous huff and puff of air should not be as erotic but Hongjoong managed to fill your head with his verbal affirmation of pleasure. Your senses were sent to overdrive while your perseverance was put to the test. Through each slip of your fingers or how your knees buckle, you tried to not falter. “God, Hongjoong,” you moaned, nearly squealing when Hongjoong pinched your clit rather harshly. The sudden treatment caused your body to shiver and it was to Hongjoong’s delight to see your breasts bouncing and legs trying to close.

If you think you were in a state of absolute bliss, Hongjoong was in a whole new plane of existence. He loved how responsive you were to his moves, the way your body sought more of him whenever he touched a new place. He loved how your skin felt against his. But nothing beats the feeling of staking a claim over a pussy, your pussy. Though you both just met, his ego managed to convince him that your pussy was made for him, it was melded to accommodate him and only him. He wondered how he could feel so amazing being in someone’s cunt. Obviously, there is pleasure, but anyone can feel pleasure from anything. Not everyone had the privilege of experiencing heavenly sinful bliss. It felt so right but so wrong at the same time because how was he supposed to live without being inside of you all the time after this? He never wanted to leave. Even if he does, he wanted to make sure to truly make you his.

“I’m going to make your pussy mine. I’ll make sure to leave part of me inside you,” he announced. Your heart skipped a beat, anticipating the absolute recklessness Hongjoong was about to do to you. Words never had such an effect on you but you love it, you love what Hongjoong was doing to you where he wanted to do it with you. The sound of sloshing water and also the feeling of being swayed by the movement of the water due to your activity felt organic, it felt natural. Droplets of water that splashed on your entangled bodies served to remind you of the reality that the rest of the world still existed. But it didn’t seem to matter. Not when you and he were so close to cumming.

Knowing that he didn’t want your hands to wander, you decided that your release was more important. Your right hand left its post to grab the Hongjoong’s hand that was nestled on your cunt. Before Hongjoong could protest, your now vacant left hand grabbed a handful of Hongjoong’s hair on the back of his head, instantly causing Hongjoong to gasp and roll his eyes into their socket. Meanwhile, you worked his hand on your clit, rubbing harsh circles on the abused bundle of nerve frantically. Your hips ground to chase the pleasure on your clit and to meet Hongjoong’s thrusts continuously until you were squealing, releasing your cum. As you rode the high or orgasm, your body tried to curl up on its own, your cunt had a vice grip on Hongjoong’s cock as your legs tried to snap shut. The pleasure was almost too much for you to handle that it started becoming painful. But the pain was too good, so addicting, you wanted more of it and you didn’t want it to stop. So through the pain, with Hongjoong’s other arm keeping you close, you enjoyed every bit of sadistic release.

Hongjoong tried to pump his cock as best he could despite the firm grip your cunt had on him. Thankfully, he managed to unload his seed in time, just as your hole began fluttering. The knowledge that he was making you his along with the sweet sensation of release were the two things Hongjoong could think about. On top of that, he also believed that he couldn’t get enough of it, especially the sight of your body twitching in front of him, decorated by the Parisian lights. It was a boost to his ego. Moreover, when you finally collapsed into the tub with your head resting on Hongjoong’s hip next to his softening cock, Hongjoong never felt more powerful.

In contrast to the activity you both just went through, Hongjoong softly carded his fingers through your hair, gently so as to not cause tangles. The comforting gesture allowed you to close your eyes and enjoy the moment, though your lips decided to show some appreciation to the man by peppering kisses around his hips. “You did such a good job,” Hongjoong cooed affectionately, genuinely satisfied with what just happened. So much so that he took his glass that he abandoned on the tray by the tub to finish off his Moet.

You thought he just wanted to finish off the glass but you were wrong. Because the next thing you know, Hongjoong maneuvered your body to lean back on the tub as he leaned close to you. With his thumb, he gently coaxed your chin open and spit some of the alcohol into your mouth. Your eyes widened in surprise initially but the stern yet hopeful look in Hongjoong’s eyes made you swallow the liquid. The slight burn of alcohol was no match to the fire that burned in Hongjoong’s eyes when he saw how obedient you were. Once you opened your mouth to show that you had indeed swallowed the mixture of his spit and alcohol, Hongjoong wasted no time in pressing his lips wholly on yours. The rest of the alcohol in his mouth dripped down to yours, some you welcome down your throat and some dribbled down the sides of your mouth down to your chin and further down, creating a trail to your cleavage. With a last pat to your spent cunt that was leaking his cum underwater, Hongjoong smirked to your lips, “Such a good job indeed.”

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[yandere-sins]

The Orcas’ Tale - Epilogue

Aye, that's the end of Nerrocan's story! I am happy and sad at the same time, I hope this last chapter from his pov will give you guys some of the answers you hoped for, and maybe create more questions that will be solved in the two sidestories with Lyr and Krill! Thank you all for participating in reaching this True End and I hope you guys had fun guessing (even though you always guessed right after the first chapter!) Thank you for all the support and encouragement sent my way throughout the story, and I hope you guys enjoy the last chapter ♥

Fandom: Original Content   Pairings: Yandere!Orca Mermen x GN!Reader   Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Nerrocan being a bit horny in his thoughts but nothing actually happens, still lots of sex mentions), Violence (Threats, Description of killing others), Monsters, Blood mention, Gun mention, Dub-con touches/kisses, Animalistic behavior, Mention of claws/sharp teeth, Hinting at death, Long post

Mate.

That's the word the humans of this place told me when I asked them about this strange, burning feeling in my chest whenever I looked at you. Bubbles rose from my mouth as I kept saying it over and over, letting the sound of the word roll from my tongue, sweet and exhilarating as it mixed with the images of you I created in my head. Images of you smiling, laughing, sleeping on top of my chest. Your hands wandering, lips kissing, your body beneath mine. Even the dread of being captured, caught in a pool that could never compare to the vastness of the ocean, was no concern of mine when I thought of you, the pain in my body turning into your sweet and soft caresses with my imagination.

In a pod like the one I grew up in, the thought of two merfolks creating their own separate life was not one that was ever considered. Males returned from their breeding spree with other pods, back to theirs, their family, their place of belonging. We'd raise the children of our females, our family staying tight-knit and closed off to outsiders. A male would never bring back a partner to integrate and be the only one they loved. The only one they'd ever desire. It was selfish and wrong and brought risks to the pod, who could get sick or attacked because of the actions of one of their sons and brothers.

But the humans told me it was quite normal for my kind. Not the orcas, the mermaids. Sirens, that's what the humans called us, but they mixed up the description with mermaid ever so often. For fun? For practical uses? I didn't know. I didn't care. I didn't bring you back here, so I'd have to wreck my head around all the weird things you did. I carried you here because I remembered. Remembered others like me—sharks, whales, seals. So many of them, and all of them… happy. Content being held in these large but closed-off bodies of water, attended to by one of the humans in their slick garments and coats. Not at all bothered by the probing, painful experiments done to them as long as they got to rest in the arms of their mates. 

I still didn't understand it. But when I thought of you and called you my mate, knowing you were sitting just an arm's length from the edge of my pool, it was more freeing than escaping this facility back when my cousins and I had been captured. It felt right. Natural. It made no sense, but it made everything make sense. And I liked how it felt. I liked how you made me feel. I didn't care much about anything else, neither my past nor my future here, as long as you were with me.

At first, I had been hesitant around you, remembering the pain humans caused us, binding us and forcing us to sleep while they cut us open and injected weird poison into our bodies. I couldn't understand why my pod mates were so inclined to be around you, considering what the humans did to us, but now, it was almost as if I had forgotten their faces already, their actions of no concern to me.

Now I had you.

Swimming up to the edge of the pool, I reached out to you, my hand so easily fitting around your 'ankle'. Your lips quirked into a grin as you continued writing your report, and I slipped my finger below this strange yet comforting tight fabric you wore, tracing my claw along your 'calf'. You taught me all these words, and I didn't want to miss even one of them. I soaked up every vibration of your voice as if it was the calling whistles of my family, wishing to drown in the sounds you gifted me. After all this time, your 'wetsuit' became the most comforting feeling to me, but your skin's warmth was what excited me the most. You were alive; you were safe. I protected you. It's been all I ever wanted.

"When will you finish?" I asked, innocently enough as I found. Once I returned you to this place, you learned not to be so skittish around me, like a little fish hiding between corals whenever I approached you. I always knew I was stronger than you. You were prey where I was the hunter. You were no match to me, had no claws, no fangs, no poison to hurt me. But only when we spent more time out in the ocean and here, did I realize just how scary I was to you. Monstrous, even. You never said it out loud, but the silence whenever I hurt you accidentally while the humans experimented on me was more painful than any of your words could ever be. So I tried to be less like myself and more like you wanted me to be, even if that meant putting my wants and needs beneath yours. It had paid off, no matter the difficulty. 

You told me you didn't want to be interrupted while you did your studies, spending more hours leaning over your 'clipboard' than you did in the water with me. I wanted nothing more than to float through my tank with you; cared for nothing but you excitedly telling me about your finds and the strange food you had at the 'cafeteria' that day. Naturally, yours won over my wants, but being so close yet so far away from you was hard. If not for your skin getting 'pruney' and your body being so unsuitable to the water I needed, I'd have kept you in my arms all day—where you belonged.

"I'm almost done."

Almost. I hated that word. I wanted you now. In my arms, kissing the air into your lungs while I pinned you to the sandy floor of this pool. I learned a lot about myself after coming here, and one thing was: I wasn't a very patient male. Even when I needed to be, to make you, my mate, like me more, I couldn't banish these thoughts I had about you. They were partially influenced by my needs and wants, partly by the other humans who told me those cravings were natural. I needed to have you close, breathe your air, hear your voice, taste your lips to survive all of this. I wanted to be around you all the time, barely able to rest whenever you hid from me in your little 'cabin' next to my pool, closing the door that I didn't fit through and kept me outside. But I was wiser now than when I first had been captured. I knew I could make demands when I complied with the things these other humans wanted to do to me. They'd build me a home like the underwater cave, where I could live with you, nothing separating us and you having to rely on me to get in and out from. It would be our cave. A love nest. 

Letting myself slide back in the water, I pondered the wonders I'd been promised, my cock aching with need when I thought about making a family with you. Where I came from, there was no such thing as nesting and spending uninterrupted time mating with a partner. The thought of being tangled with you in our cave, covering you in my marks as you accepted my cock inside your warmth, was nothing short of breathing life back into me and testing my patience at the same time. We had yet to introduce the idea to you, but the other humans told me they'd make sure you'd finally accept the mate bond once they talked to you. So far, you called yourself my 'caretaker', and while I didn't dislike how it proclaimed me as yours, I wished you'd finally accept me as your mate like I had you. After all, it was me who was taking care of you—like I promised. 

I said I'd protect you, and though the experiments on my body hurt, I'd be happy as long as I got to be with you in return. And be with you I did, especially now that you put the clipboard away, your attention shifting to me. 

Immediately, I pushed out of the water and onto the metal grids spreading over parts of my tank so the humans could walk comfortably over my pool. You smiled softly as you scooted closer to the edge—closer to me—smelling like the sterile 'alcohol' everyone seemed to apply to their skin, but also of me, which I ensured by rubbing myself against you every chance I got. In the big ocean, you wouldn't notice the scent mark of another creature. You'd bite and carve your possession in clear view for others. But here, with everyone having a mate, the scentings were loud and clear. I, too, couldn't let any other creature here be mistaken about who you belonged to, even though they were all equally busy marking their own mates in the same way. 

I let you cup my face in your tiny hands, palms so small they could barely hold my cheeks, but it didn't repulse me. Unless I kept you in the water with me, your hands were warm and soft, your heartbeat pulsing so vigorously just below your thumb. Your touch could make anything better, be it the anxiety of being apart from you or the prodding needles and knifes cutting into me. As long as you were with me, there was nothing I couldn't endure. I just knew it. I knew it from the moment I tore the sharks limb from limb for daring to threaten you, ripping their hearts out for having the audacity to touch what was mine.

Wrapping my arms around your body, you chuckled as I drew you close, burying my head into your stomach and chest. Your heartbeat was my favorite sound, but the giggles almost sounded like purrs when I pressed my ear to your body. The differences between us were great, but I still found similarities if only I was given the time to look for them. I still didn't trust the humans and didn't have to like them. But I trusted you, and I did what I had to do to be with you. 

"Are you done now?" I mumbled, your hand combing through my hair while I nuzzled into you. You often brushed your hands through the strands, watched them float in the water, and played with them. It gave me a great feeling of satisfaction knowing you liked my hair. Liked me. We were simply meant for each other, considering how much I liked you too. 

"I am. Thank you for waiting," you confirmed, patting my head. My heart leapt at the gesture, so starved from only being allowed to watch you. I tightened my arms around you, ready to pull you into my tank and considering not letting you leave tonight. But before I could take you for a swim, your fingers clawed into my upper arms, and the dreadful screeching of the metal door leading out of my territory forced me to halt. 

"Professor!" you greeted the person entering our space uninvited, rudely interrupting my already limited time with you. I couldn't help but snarl at the man in the white coat, the very same one that had threatened you with death the first time you met him, the thought making me bare my teeth at him. I didn't have to like anyone of the other humans, but there was nothing to like about him in the first place for any of us. 

Anguish spread through me as you slipped out of my hold, getting to your 'feet' to greet the Professor. Disgruntled and shunned by you, I sank back into the water, watching the unnecessary closeness you two had developed over the last few weeks. Water splashed between your sets of feet as I couldn't help but thrash my tail, reminding the Professor to stay away from my mate. But it only caused you to whip around, hissing, "Nerrocan!" to remind me of my 'manners'. I knew he didn't fear me, and I knew I could easily kill him. But for the humans, he was in a position like Krill's mother had been to me. A leader. Someone they followed and trusted with decisions. Compared to my 'aunt', however, this male deserved none of my trust and loyalty. He neither earned it nor was I inclined to trust anything he said. He was faker than the sand at the bottom of the ocean.

"I've come to collect the research data from the last round of testing. Do you happen to have it on hand already?" he asked you, ignoring me and my attempts to signal him to stay away completely. Annoyed, bordering on mad, I had to watch as you retrieved your clipboard, humming thoughtfully as you went through the papers sticking to it before shaking your head. 

"I had them here somewhere, I swear! I must have accidentally left them in my room. Please wait a moment, I'll go and get them for you!"

With that, you quickly moved away, opening the door to your cabin and disappearing behind it. I was tempted to swim after you, already pushing my body in the direction of where you went and further into the pool, when the male called out to me.

"So, how are you finding your life here, Nerrocan?"

I could feel the growl building in my chest as he used my name so freely to annoy me. I'd have preferred it had he not addressed me at all, considering I was not up to chitchatting with anyone else but you—especially not with him.

"I take it you've gotten used to this place then," he monologued, looking up from your clipboard after reading your report. "We are delighted to have you, you know? Orcas have been eluding us for a long time, and the samples we've gotten from you have proven very successful for our research. I just wish we had another one here... You don't think one of your friends might want to join us?"

"They won't come," I snapped back instantly, already feeling like biting the Professor's throat out after this brief exchange. Human speech was hard enough to understand, but even I could tell his words were embellished attacks. He was nothing but greedy and had wanted me to spill the location of my pod from the very beginning. Whenever they did something to my body and my mind was hazy and unfocused, he'd take advantage and ask about the others and where to find them. Apparently, their 'trackers' were too old or broken to find my pod, but I wouldn't tell him their whereabouts, even though he was just as impatient as me. 

And no one would come, that much I was sure of.

I only realized it after coming back to this facility, but the others didn't remember. Not like I did, at least. What happened to their bodies either forced them to forget about this place and the way back here, or they were trying to forget to stay sane—at least Krill. Lyr had definitely changed after what they did to him. It had been a slow shift at first, his changes barely apparent. But as of late, something in him just… snapped. I didn't know the reason, but he seemed out of his mind most days without him even noticing. But I was pretty sure it was because of one of the experiments. And Krill seemed to pretend everything was fine for a while. We got away, and, once we returned to the pod, 'nothing happened'. But he must have realized it too that the three of us were clearly not the same anymore. That none of us could participate in the normal life in the pod, we were forced into again after our experience. 

But at least that meant they wouldn't come here. They wouldn't have to suffer again like I did.

The Professor's eyes narrowed, his expression telling despite him thinking he was unreadable. In reality, he hated being challenged. He didn't want to be questioned; he didn't want anyone to defy him. He was weak. A weak human male that could not deal with not being the most powerful in the room. And none of our kind—be it shark, seal, orca—had proven that point to him yet if only for the sake of their mates.

"You know, I'm surprised you brought your mate here," he suddenly said, his features sharpening after not getting the information he wanted from me. "There would have been a public beach just further north from here, barely half a day of swimming. Undoubtedly, you knew that?"

There it was again, an attack hidden beneath innocent questions. But this time, I couldn't help but dip lower into the pool, hide in the safety of my water, and consider leaving him standing there by himself. Then again, I couldn't trust him with you. You'd return any second now, and he had one of these 'guns' under his coat that could hurt you if I wasn't present to intervene. So I kept watching him, suspicious of his every move. 

"It's like…" he mused, bringing one hand to his face and tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Almost like you wanted to trap them here. After all, we wouldn't have let you and your friends go either had you not put up a fight and slipped from us. Perhaps you thought your mate wouldn't be able to leave you if you brought them here. That they'd need you like you need them, could that be it? You did it all while knowing they'd be imprisoned here with you and become unhappy, didn't you?"

A hideous, fake smile crossed his features, and it was almost enough to make me leap for him and tear his head from his shoulders. How dare he made such assumptions?! I'd have found great pleasure in crushing his skull and tearing that grin apart. "What do you know?" I hissed instead, baring my teeth. 

Humans didn't feel the mate bond. That's the first painful thing I learned here. A human male would never understand the suffocating feeling of being apart from his mate. He wouldn't know the fear and panic of letting them get out of your reach and how much any type of your mate's rejection hurt. How your mate's pain is your pain, just ten times as bad. On land, it would have only been a matter of time until I could no longer follow you. As big as the ocean was, the land reached far and wide, and it was I who was no longer suitable when it came to traverse it. He talked about your unhappiness, but you were allowed to study lifeforms you found interesting. You were protected by me and could pursue your interest without leaving me behind. Not being allowed to leave this place was the small price you had to pay in all of this. Smaller than what I had to endure for you. 

I did what you wanted. I brought you here as you asked me to. Back then, I didn't know how much my life had changed with you in it, but when they talked about having to kill you after we entered this place, there was no question about whether I'd protect you or not. And keeping you here with me was the only way to keep you safe. By staying here with you, I was keeping you alive, no matter what they did to me. Who cared if I remembered how these humans didn't want to let us sirens go the first time I ended up here? Remembered how many humans we had to kill and how many more of our kind we sacrificed to get out? This human male wouldn't understand, but I did. I sacrificed a lot to return here and stay with you, and I saw no fault in my decision to do what my mate wanted me to. 

"It's better this way. For both of us," I growled, and he let out a brief chuckle, amusement flashing over his features. 

"If that's what you want to believe," he said dismissively, his eyes crossing over the pool to the door to your cabin. Immediately, I felt the alert to his focus shifting, forcing me to swim over to that side so that, whatever may happen, I'd be the first to get to you. But to my surprise, the Professor raised his hands and shook his head dismissively of my worries. 

"I won't tell your mate what we just talked about. In fact, it's better they don't learn that their subject forced them into being imprisoned here despite knowing this would happen. They seem to enjoy their work, and they do it well enough. As long as you play nice and let us get our samples from you, we won't have a reason to come between you two. But you already know that, right?"

He was back to grinning like the mad human he was, taking pleasure in the suffering of others. I hated that he had once again attacked me with his words, defeating me in this fight. The Professor had explained to me before that he wouldn't want me to be unhappy and dissatisfied by taking my mate from me. But if I wanted to be with you, I had to do what they asked of me without harming anyone else. My actions may have 'imprisoned' you here, as the Professor liked to call it, but you weren't alone in this. In fact, I was sure we weren't the only ones in this kind of predicament. After all, there were countless other pairs stuck in this facility—willingly or unwillingly. 

"I got them!" your beautiful voice rang out as you exited your resting place. I tore away from the Professor, swimming over to you and chirping softly, gaining a smile from you. I'd never do anything to harm this lovely smile of yours. I wanted to keep it directed at me for all our lives. 

Even if that meant playing the Professor's games and agreeing to his deals.

You handed him a stack of papers before kneeling beside me, brushing over my head as I rose high enough on the platform to protect you. Your touch was soothing and reassuring, but I didn't let my eyes stray from the male beside you, hoping he'd finally leave us alone now that he had what he had come for. I wanted you for myself, but he was taking his time studying the results.

He only briefly glanced from the papers you gave him to me, a grin flashing behind his hand raised to his face in contemplation. It was an oath of silence, one I couldn't trust but had to be content with. I'd not get more than that from him. All he offered was forcing me to believe he'd keep his fake promises. If anyone was going to tell you, it should have been me, even if I felt undeserving of the accusation that I did something to harm you. But humans wouldn't understand. My mate wouldn't understand. So you certainly were better off never learning about this conversation. 

"All exceptional results! Thank you for your hard work!" he finally exclaimed. Immediately some of the tension stiffening your body vanished, and you let out your breath, smiling at him. 

"Any time, Professor!" 

After shaking his hand goodbye, the older male finally left for the door. But not without throwing me another glance and a knowing smile before vanishing behind the screeching metal. Immediately, I shifted my focus back to you, not wanting to spare a second of my time dreading this encounter as much as I did while it was happening. I had better things to do, more important ones. This time I'd let no one interrupt us.

"W-Wait, Nerrocan!" your words were stricken with infectious laughter, curling my lips into a grin as well. You couldn't even react to how fast I had picked you up by the waist and plunged you into the depths of my tank with me. Finding your lips even through all the bubbles we two caused, my gills flared, allowing your lungs to fill with my air as I slipped my tongue into your tiny, delicate mouth. Your taste was the sweetest poison on this planet, intoxicating and making me desperate for more. 

But your initial gentle hold on my shoulders turned rigid, being underwater still uncomfortable for you despite feeling so right for me. I already knew you had problems with prolonged stays beneath the surface after we traveled below it for days, and though I regretted leaving the only place that was truly safe to me, I did what was best for you, sliding my tail between your legs so you'd have a surface to sit on once we breached the water.

You inhaled sharply as you tore from my lips, coughing up some water that had slipped between us despite me making sure to lodge my tongue deeply where it belonged. Truth be told, I wanted more than this from you. I want to sink you to the bottom of the ocean where you'd have to cling to me for air, wrap your legs around me, and opened yourself up to my cock so I could breed you properly. Mate you, as they called it here. Claim and fill you with my seed until you were fully satiated with my spill. All while I'd get to drown in every kiss you gave and listen to your raised heartbeat every time I spread your hole with my cock. Then, you'd finally be mine, body and soul, unable to deny the mate bond any longer and give yourself to me completely until all my seed had been drained from my painfully aching cock. 

If only it were the right time for that. 

We'd need our love nest first and the other humans' talk, explaining why it was imperative you let me mate you. I needed the safety of a cover and to be left alone with you before I could bring myself to take you fully. Nowhere in this facility was safe, and I wouldn't allow you to be vulnerable to anyone else but me. I wanted to keep protecting you, even though I was considering abandoning all these precautions for my need to sink my burning desire into you, marking you beyond rubbing my scent off on you. I hated having to wait, but at least I still had my time with you. 

Holding you by the waist, I supported you, letting you regain your strength and focus. I listened to the moment you inhaled deeply and freely again, another beautiful sound, even if I liked you breathing the air from my lungs more. "Sorry…" I mumbled, not being sorry for putting you into the position you belonged. Trapped against me in a heated kiss, our bodies barely separated by the thin layer of fabric you wore. But I was sorry for you being so uncomfortable in the water, despite me being there, taking care of you. 

"All good," you mumbled, waving off my apology and smiling kindly at me instead. You had changed a lot, too, especially after spending so much time with me. I was thankful for every bit of understanding from you, bringing us closer together and forming the unity of our mate bond, even if you had yet to realize it. Floating through the pool with you on top of me was my favorite evening activity, the stars twinkling above us, despite only being visible at a few spots in the ceiling, through thick windows. Almost. It was almost like being outdoors with you again, free and alone, somewhere out in the ocean. 

"Do you miss being outside?" you suddenly asked, and my eyes fell back on you. You had gotten more comfortable on top of me, tugging in a leg of yours while the other drifted through the water next to my body. You had followed my gaze to the round glass windows above me, guessing what I must be thinking about. 

"Yes," I answered honestly, no need to hide the truth. Between staying here in this strange, imprisoning place with you and being back in the ocean with you, I'd have chosen the sea without a second thought. Both places were dangerous, and both had their sets of risks. But I was going to protect you either way, here or there. The only place we could not go together was the land you longed for—terribly so.

"Me too," you whispered after a brief silence, staring wistfully at the stars above. I slowed my movements, coming to a halt beneath such a window, allowing you not to twist your neck to see them better. "I wish we weren't stuck here. I wish you could be out there and be free, not having to go through these experiments that hurt you so much. But…”

"It's not possible," I finished the sentence for you as your voice trailed off. "Would you like me to break us out of here?"

You gave a short laugh, finally lowering your gaze back to me. Your eyes shone brighter than any star above could. Both the night sky and the water below us were things I loved, but they didn't compare to you, couldn't even scratch at your beauty. They only added to your charm but were never able to overtake it. If I had to choose between them and you, I'd still choose you. I'd always choose you.

"That's not something we should be thinking about, Nerrocan," you mumbled, your voice losing its usual loveliness, the sound turning sourly, the shine in your eyes dimming. You wanted to say "yes" badly; I could see that. Human language was difficult, but reading your kind less so. You often said things you didn't mean to please others, even me on occasion, instantly regretting your words despite trying to hide your feelings behind smiles. You and I both wanted to leave, but you thought it was too dangerous. You thought it was something even I couldn't handle, especially not alone. That you'd be a burden rather than my drive to fulfill your wish, and ultimately, I'd leave you behind to die. After all this time, you still thought so little of me.

I wanted your dreams to come true. I really did. 

But I held myself back despite that.

"It's not so bad here that we'd need to leave. We get good food every day and are safe from others. Besides, I get to hang out with you every day! It's not that bad, right?"

Your words made me happy, but they were conveniently woven lies. It was so easy to lie for you humans, be it for your own sake or others'. My kind would speak their mind without a second thought, but humans calculated their words carefully. Life here was awful, and you knew it. These people here did their horrible experiments on us sirens, sometimes lasting hours at a time, and their mates had to watch, some getting hurt in the action. As if that wasn't enough, they'd force the mates to write long reports and watch their broken, depressed, hurt sirens, forcing them to comply by actively involving them in the process. As the professor said, no one was allowed to leave, and the choice of where to go was limited to the places open to you and my tank for me. The people behind this place tried to hide how little they truly cared about us by making the pools more enjoyable for the sirens and their mates and making promises to provide and ensure the safety of the inhabitants of this place. I did trap you here, didn't I? 

Was I a selfish mate after all? Did I only bring you here for my own sake?

If so, what made me so different from the humans I despised?

"Yes," I lied. "Life here is not so bad."

I had you, at least. That's all that mattered to me. 

You smiled, but it seemed discouraged and sad. Perhaps because you knew I had imitated you with your lying. I was sure you wanted me to fight, to get us out of here and give you the freedom you desired. But the truth was that you didn't ask it of me, and I didn't want to let you go. Because our freedoms could never align with each other. Mine was in the ocean, and yours on land. Only here did we find a place where we could be together. Only here could I be with you forever, even if it meant we'd never be truly free. 

You leaned down, laying on my chest as you thought about all the thoughts you'd never let me hear. What you truly felt and wanted, but held yourself back, not wanting to be selfish or endanger us. Not knowing I was just as selfish as you were. 

I wrapped you in my arms, holding you and giving you all the comfort I could offer. If not this place, then at least I could be home to you. If you told me, I could be what you needed me to, and maybe one day, you would speak about what you wanted so I could act on them if they seemed right to me. But I could do all these things and more that would make you forget and free you of the burden that you put on yourself by being considerate and having to make decisions for us—right here. Just like I decided to come here and agree with the terms of the Professor in exchange for keeping you with me, I could do them for you. Once you made up your mind to agree to our mate bond, I'd make you forget all the bad thoughts you were having. The pain and despair. Instead, I'd drown you in pleasure and fulfillment as my mate. We'd both be finally content with where we were and not worry so much about the consequences of our decision. 

"I'm glad you're here at least," you mumbled, not allowing me to see your face. Read from it if you meant what you said or not. But regardless, it made my heart swell with affection for my little mate, my cock aching as it reminded me of my natural instincts. 

The day I'd make you completely mine couldn't come fast enough. You'd never be alone as I'd always be with you, my marks claiming you as mine, be it bite marks or spill dripping from your holes. You'd never have to face anything on your own again as I'd take care of you, protect you, and ensure no more suffering for you to endure like I had always promised. Whatever the future held for us, I'd get us through it, even if you didn't think me capable of it now. Once I mated you, you'd learn to have more confidence in me, seeing how well I can satisfy you. I just needed to prove myself to you again and again until you'd accept me completely.

"I am glad, too," I confessed, meaning it, hoping you could feel the sincerity in my voice.

Together, we drifted through the pool in circles for a long time in silence, the soft rippling in the water and your breathing the only sounds echoing around us, stars twinkling in a gentle greeting when we looked up at them. I wanted this moment to never end, for your body to never be pried from mine. I dreamed about the whole universe revolving only around us with no one to disturb this togetherness, no worries bothering our peace. Our world, free of pain and expectations, of lies and sadness. Just you, in my arms, with nothing keeping us apart. Together until the waters would take our bodies for our eternal rest.

And I knew I'd make this dream of mine come true, no matter what I had to do. No matter the suffering and pain I had to endure; the many more times you'd give me a gaze full of sadness, wanting to leave this place. Even if the Professor kept threatening me, I'd not let anyone take you from me, would not let my mate get hurt, or be forced into more sadness. I'd make everything better. I knew I could make it all better.

Because I belonged with you, and in return, you were mine. 

Trapped with me for all eternity.

My! Seems like you made it! I believed in you all this time!

Or did you?

Love is such a tricky emotion, like the tides that draw from the beach, only to return quicker than humans realize, trapping them. You can never be sure when these unassuming waters come for your life; the same goes for love.

Maybe you'd have wanted to try something other than this, but is it truly the worst outcome you could have wished for? Did you not want to be loved so dearly that someone would risk their life for you? Or was there something else you'd have rather achieved with your journey? 

I am pleased you followed my instructions, but I can see it in your eyes; there's still so much you haven't experienced yet. Who knows, maybe I can help you with that! I'd be glad to show you what happened to the other two orcas you were caught up with or what would have happened had you made a different choice on your adventure, but for now, this is goodbye. 

I hope you will find happiness in that new life of yours, so far from my ocean. I'm afraid not even I can help you escape from where you ended up. But who knows? Maybe you'll come to like it there. 

Just like everyone else.

[themonotonysyndrome]

Ě̸̡̞̱̘̹̮̫͚̯͍͕̟̪͂̀̋̉̾͛̂̑̅͜͝c̴̢̺̟̣̠̤̽͋͒̄̄͂̆̿͗̑̊̒̒̕ḧ̷͇͍͉͉̺͈͙́̀͆̀̒̒̅̒͒̔̽ó̶͔̜̓͛̓̂̔̆͌́͆̉͂͘͝͠es of regrets

So! I saw this post from @rivyx (if you like, I can untag you. Just wanna give credit where credit is due):

And I thought:

"Man. It's been a while since I broke my own heart. Oh! Angst between Geordi and Cutie? How about I make Geordi regret for making Cutie believe that they need to multiate and hide the magical part of themselves and even the Empowered world because he doesn't understand a Telepath's needs?"

Hence. This oneshot. Shout out to @moonandstarlightsposts for helping me come up with the title!

(Yes. Yes. I know. Cutie was canonically at fault, too. I just wanna focus on Geordi regretting his actions for a change.)

-

Summary: Second chances come and go. But for Geordi and Cutie, perhaps they should have let it go by.

First comes the awkwardness. 

It’s to be expected. A break was decided - no, needed - for the both of them after… well. No point in digging up bad memories. The two of them were heading down a dangerous spiral, and Geordi could no longer ignore the red flags. He’d been through too much to drown in toxicity and abuse again. Whether his partner realised it or not. And that’s the part that crushed his heart. A heart that Geordi painstakingly put back together with liquid gold and long nights of tearful frustrations. He told them about Ben. He told them how his ex callously disregarded his boundaries. And Cutie just - 

Therapy was something they agreed to during their break. Geordi needed to address old trauma that re-open like wounds and Cutie - 

‘I… I hope this isn’t me coming across as presumptuous, but one of my coworkers is a really good therapist. I think you’ll like him! His name is Cam - ’

‘I still have my old therapist’s number. Um. Thanks, though.’

‘O-Oh! Right. Of course. I should’ve thought of that. I just… never mind.’

That was the last text that Cutie sent. Even after they moved out of his apartment, the two continued to exchange careful messages with one another, awkwardly making sure not to step on each other’s landmines. However, as days gone by, the texts became more and more superficial: ’Morning. Have you eaten?’. ‘Just cereal. Thanks for checking up on me.’ ‘The weather forecast mentioned a thunderstorm. Don’t forget an umbrella, ok?’. When Cutie brought the subject of therapists to the table - 

The texts stopped after that. 

Geordi had no idea how lonely his existence truly was without Ben and Cutie. The two-bedroom apartment became too big. He cooked too much for a single person. His left side felt too exposed whenever his coworkers dragged him out for drinks and karaoke. It hurts. He has a habit of rubbing his left arm nowadays. 

His therapist is a kind woman, the kind that has laugh lines all over her face. Older than him, more at ease with her place in the world, unlike Geordi. She never judges him whenever he finds the courage to unravel before her. Ugly, jagged broken pieces for a heart. Gold and bitter tears for the next few months. 

Soon, a year passes. 

Something settled within Geordi then. New foundations were built. The world is a little less lonely now that he has opened up to his coworkers, reached out to some cousins on phones and slowly put himself out there again. He had fallen in love with building LEGOs recently. A hobby that happily kept him occupied while a slow, reverb version of Evil by Melanie Martinez plays in the background of the living room. 

It took a while, but he finally reached a point and mental headspace to put Cutie back into the equation. 

His therapist's words constantly echo in his head, grounding him whenever his fingertips run on the rim of their favourite mug, red with little ladybugs on the ceramic. Witty, funny, confident, mischievous and kind - Cutie’s best would always outshine their worst in Geordi’s eyes. Perhaps that’s why he subconsciously ignores the raising red flags the more and more they tested his boundaries. Anyway, being with Cutie brought out the best of Geordi in return, which he never even knew existed. He loved them, plain and simple. He loves learning about them and their world every day of the week. He was so happy and content whenever they were in his arms. Growing old together was something he thought about when they drove back home from his folks’. Cutie was fast asleep, with their head gently resting against the window of the car. That moment was magical in its own way. 

Geordi misses them. His incredible, one-of-a-kind partner. 

He thinks about them more often than not nowadays, wondering how therapy is going for them. Had they fallen in love with any new hobbies? Did Cutie make any new friends outside of the Department? If so, he wonders what they’re like. 

Thoughts turn to yearning. Yearning turns to Geordi, picking up his phone and texting Cutie first for once.

‘Hey. Good morning. How are you?’

The two of them never used to be awkward when they were a couple. Feeling hopeful, Geordi puts aside his phone as he continues about his day. Fixing himself a hearty lunch using a recipe that he can’t wait to share with Cutie and goes about doing the laundry afterwards. It’s only after his evening shower that a notification lights up on his phone screen. 

‘Hey. I’m alright. You?’

Superficial. That’s OK, though. Geordi is not giving up. 

The two resume texting every day soon enough as if the distance weren’t ever there. It makes him happy to be updated with every little thing that is going on in Cutie’s life. He spams GIFs and emojis at every picture they share and they, in return, slowly start to send over recorded audio of their little laughter and quips. It makes him miss them all the more. Enough to replay those audios over and over again whenever he can’t sleep at night. During those nights, his phone would always be on the right side of the bed.

Texting eventually evolves to calling when Geordi wakes up from a rather bad nightmare. Something so vague that it slipped from the recess of his conscious as he panted for air. Without even thinking about it, he presses on a familiar number. His call is answered almost immediately. 

“Geordi? Why are you awake around this hour?”

Relief floods into his very being. They once fondly tease him that, no, their voice isn’t magic. Unlike Vampires and their special eyes, Telepaths specialised in minds instead. It’s his love that makes their voice special and it’s love that dispels the lingering nightmare. 

“Geordi?” Cutie’s voice is hesitant at the end of the line. “Is everything ok? Do you have someone nearby that you can call for help?” 

“No! No, no. I’m fine.” Comes his quick assurance. The shirt that he brought to sleep is drenched in sweat. His hair is matted to his forehead. He feels gross, and yet he doesn’t want to put Cutie on loudspeaker while he cleans himself up. “I just… really miss you. So much.” 

Cutie’s reply is a whisper, “I-I miss you too. Can I ask if that’s the reason why you called me?” 

“Yeah… had a nightmare; can’t remember what it was about. What I do remember is how you used to bring me to the kitchen, and you’d make warm chocolate milk for the both of us to help. You’d then talked me through it, helped me calm me down. Did I ever thank you for that? Thank you, by the way.” 

“You’re welcome. I like taking care of you. And, uh, you did thank me. Always.” 

Geordi lets out a ragged sigh. Those happy moments were just what he needed. “Did I wake you up? I didn’t mean to.” 

“Nah, you’re good. I was doing some leftover documents for an assignment.” 

Cutie never used to stay up past midnight. They like to sleep early whenever they can due to how mentally, emotionally, and physically taxing their job as an intel extraction officer can be. Cutie often rants about how the Department inefficiently run things, especially when it comes to bureaucracy. Perhaps this is one of their new habits? Speaking of which - 

“How’s work treating you? Did you get that promotion?” 

“Work’s alright. Are you feeling better now?” 

Well, his heart was no longer racing, that’s for sure. But he still wants to hear their voice even through the static. “Like magic. You’re always the perfect cure for everything.” He waits for Cutie to laugh in that out-of-breath sort whenever he compliments them. Light and carefree.

Instead, they hum. 

“Glad to hear it. Are you going to try and go back to sleep?” 

“Only when you are, Cutie.” Geordi tries to flirt and perhaps coax them to rest for the evening. 

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll go to bed in a bit. Um. If that’s all - ”

Perhaps it’s because the nightmare that he can no longer recall had something to do with Cutie. Perhaps it’s because he hasn’t heard their voice properly in so, so long. Whatever it is, it gave Geordi a burst of courage. He quickly asks before Cutie can hang up, “Wait, wait! Can I see you, Cutie? I just want to talk. Please?” He swallowed thickly. “I think we’re ready to discuss about… us.” 

A thoughtful silence from Cutie. 

“I’d like that. Where do you want to meet up?” 

Geordi’s night becomes much sweeter after that. They talk and plan until his eyes grow heavy and Cutie’s documents are filed away. They even put him on loudspeaker and brought him to the bathroom so they could continue talking while they showered. God, the sounds of running water alone fill him with wants and images. He can’t stop picturing himself in that shower with them. So you can’t blame how incredibly giddy Geordi is when he finally sees Cutie walk up to the cafe the next day. They offered him a small smile as they made themselves comfortable across the table. Healthy and rocking a new fashion style when Geordi is busy absorbing every little detail about them. He could honestly stare at them like a work of art in the Louvre. 

“So I’m here…” Cutie says rather unnecessarily. They scratch their cheek nervously. “You wanted to talk?” 

He snaps out of a daze. Shit, he got distracted by his thoughts! For a split second, Geordi can’t help but wonder if they heard his inner ramblings. Judging by Cutie’s guarded expression, he lets out a sigh of relief. It sets his heart at ease to learn about this new side of Cutie. “Yeah. Thanks for agreeing to meet up with me. You look… god, Cutie. You look amazing.” 

“Thanks! You’re not too bad on the eye yourself.” Cutie’s smile is wider now. “We’ve practically caught up to speed with each other lives for a while now. So, this is it. Whatever you decide, I’ll respect it this time. I promise.” 

That assurance dissolves any doubts that Geordi might have harboured. He’s more sure about his next few words than ever before. “I still want us to be together, Cutie. That never changed. Even when we were on a break, I had no one else. I love you, even when you broke my heart. Do you… do you still feel the same?” 

Cutie reaches out to hold his hand, which is gripping a fork so tightly. He didn’t even realise it. The moment when skin meets skin, a familiar warmth spread across his arm. It’s like sunshine thawing out the chills in his bone marrow. He lets go of the fork in favour of holding their hand and squeezes it. “My feelings haven’t changed too. I love you so damn much, Geordi. I know I said it before, but I’m so sorry for hurting you. Words alone aren’t enough to promise you that I won’t do it again, but I’ll make sure my actions make up for it. From now on, you’ll lead where this relationship is going. I’ll follow” Steely determination glimmers behind Cutie’s eyes. God, they look so hot! Would his therapist finally judge him if he asked Cutie to drag him to the bathroom for a quickie? It’s been too long since they’re in him. 

“Geordi? Are you ok? You look flush.” Some of that hesitation creeps back into Cutie. Dimming that spark of fire. He panics when their hand tugs back. 

“Yeah! Sorry. My head’s a bit of a mess.” He begins to explain. Here, he lowered his voice; his eyes lidded. “Maybe you can make sense of it? You might like what you find, Cutie…” 

“Oh!” For some reason, Cutie looks positively alarmed. A deer in a headlight. He had never seen that kind of look on their face before. Their sudden reaction threw Geordi off guard. Any lustful thoughts are completely replaced with concern now. “Maybe later. So, uh, where do we go from here? I can’t move back in just yet due to my apartment lease. Or do you want things to stay as they are right now for a little while longer?” 

Continue this distance between them? Geordi doesn’t think he’s that strong of a man.

“Feel free to move in any time you can. My place is your home. You know that.” 

That gorgeous smile slowly returns. This is Cutie at their best. After that day, things begin falling into place without a hitch. Cutie is back in his life. They bring their clothes and toiletries over when their lease is up - 

“You kept my mug?” 

“Of course I did, silly. Why would I throw it out?” 

“Right… right. Sorry.” 

“Cutie? Is something wrong?” 

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Say, that recipe you bookmarked earlier, why don’t you let me take a crack at it? I’ll handle dinner tonight!” 

- their routines fall into one once more, and Geordi couldn’t be happier. His world is no longer filled with silence and bitterness.

Second comes the realisation. 

Geordi has been riding high on cloud nine ever since Cutie settled back into his apartment, into his life. Waking up to their sleeping face feels like a dream that he never wants to end. Their giggling when he rouses them with kisses is a bonus. He loves greeting the morning sun with a partner who is happy and satiated from the night before. And if Cutie is in the mood to play? Well! He’s more than happy to ruin the sheets for the third time in the span of six hours. 

And don’t even get him started on domestic bliss. 

Since Cutie’s work hours are a lot more flexible than Geordi’s, he’s forever grateful that they always have a pot of hot coffee ready for him on the table and a sweet kiss before he dashes out for the day. If he returns before traffic picks up in the evening, the couple would either go out for a dinner date or stay at home and binge-watch a new series while they eat in the living room. They alternate in cooking and cleaning depending on their schedule, but Cutie seems to have a habit of doing both whenever they can. The coworkers that he invited over for DnD sessions would whistle and nudge him on the shoulder when they looked around the spotless apartment, praising him for scoring the perfect partner after Cutie left them with a tray of snacks and drinks. Internally, Geordi preens. 

When the weekends roll around, and it’s just the two of them lazying together in their sweats and old t-shirts, Geordi and Cutie would spend time together by combining their new hobbies. Geordi would lose himself in another LEGO building project while Cutie reads a novel on their phone on the couch. His favourite playlists play on and on, wrapping the couple in a peaceful cocoon. 

That is until - 

Geordi blinks, back in the present, when he suddenly hears the sliding door of the balcony softly shut. He sees Cutie outside talking on the phone, their back against him. He watches them moving their free hand animatedly for a few seconds longer before focusing back on the tower that he had been building. When the sliding door shuts again, he absentmindedly asks, “Hey, Cutie? What are you in the mood for lunch? Do you want to go to that Chinese restaurant down the street or…” His words trail off the moment he notices the frustrated lines on his partner's forehead. Their eyes were exhausted all of a sudden. Before he could say anything, his partner flashed an apologetic smile. 

“Work called. Something came up. I need to step out in a bit, but I should have some time to make lunch - ”

Geordi stops them right there and then. He doesn’t want them to get more stressed out, especially when an emergency - he assumed - just happened. “No, no. Don’t sweat it. How about you go get ready while I make us lunch? I’d rather you have something in your stomach before you leave.” He replies, already up on his feet. 

Deer in a headlight on Cutie. Again. What’s going on? “I can do it. It’s your rest day after all - ”

“Nu-uh. You just get your pretty ass in the shower, alright? I’ll have your favourites ready as soon as you step out of our bedroom door again.” Geordi assures them, but in reality? He’s so confused. They never so stressed out about cooking before. Seriously, what’s going on? 

Cutie eventually nods. They kiss him on the cheek and make a beeline for the bathroom while Geordi takes out a wok and spatula. Their strange behaviour remains in his mind as he makes spicy stir-fry noodles. Now that he thinks about it, they’ve been going along with everything he likes nowadays. Cooking his favourite meals, making sure the laundry is clean and folded, helping him with the LEGOs, hanging out with his friends and letting him initiate intimacy and sex every time. They laugh when he tells jokes, as cheesy as they are. Apart from their clothes and toiletries, they haven’t brought back their Digimon plushies, or any of their physical books on the shelves. They hate horror movies, but when he absentmindedly suggests they watch Saint Maud, they agree without any hesitation. 

It’s like they’re a satellite, faithfully orbiting Geordi’s every need and want. Why… why did he never notice that before? And when was the last time they went out to Cutie’s favourite restaurant again? When was the last time they did what Cutie wanted for a change? 

Ah. Geordi remembers now. It was before they went on a break. 

Something’s wrong with Cutie. Shit! Why didn’t he notice it before!? Was he truly caught up in his own world that he utterly neglected his partner’s? 

The noodles are hot and plated, ready on the table, but Geordi feels so cold and empty. Guilt was heavy in his stomach. His grin is stiff when Cutie finally emerges wearing their standard work fit. Even in black slacks and a white collared shirt, Cutie looks like a model ready for the runway. They tuck into their meal, but Geordi doesn’t have much appetite for it. So many thoughts clash with one another in his head like angry hornets. He doesn’t even know where to start or what to ask. At times like this, Cutie would slip into his mind and act as his anchor. But ever since they got back together again - 

“What time would you be coming home?” Is what comes out from Geordi’s lips, frustrated with himself. 

Cutie stops washing their dishes to turn around. “If all goes well? In the evening. Probably before midnight, so you don’t have to wait up or put aside dinner for me. I can just grab something when I leave the office.” 

And that’s another thing that Geordi just now realised. They don’t talk about work as much as they did before. When asked, sure, Cutie would always answer him, but it was never more than a, “Oh, my cases? Some old, same old.”, “These documents are pretty boring, actually. Something for the higher-ups to keep in their record.”, “The therapist I mentioned before? Oh, you mean Cam? He’s still working on the floor above mine.” Lukewarm. Tepid. Those are the kinds of replies that Cutie would often give him before the conversation seamlessly shifts to another topic. 

Not once have they performed magic around him. In fact, ever since they got back together again, Cutie’s voice is constantly absent in his mind. 

Suddenly, Geordi feels sick. He forces himself to put on a brave face, a mask that tells his partner that everything is alright, because their eyebrows begin to furrow in hesitation. 

And now he knows why. 

“Call me when you leave?” Geordi tries not to plead. His voice didn’t crack, that good. The last thing he wants is to get the love of his life in trouble with their superiors. They never did tell him if they received that promotion or not. 

It’s a bittersweet victory when Cutie smiles again. “Sure! Have fun with your project, baby.” 

They exchange a long kiss; he wonders if they find it weird that Geordi is reluctant to pull their lips away from him. He weeps and weeps into his hands when they leave the apartment. What has he done? Oh god, Cutie… he didn’t mean to. He didn’t mean to drive them into cutting a part of themselves in order to make him happy. He didn’t mean to be so blinded when they made themselves smaller and smaller if that’s what they thought would make him happy. Would let them stay in his life. 

He didn’t mean to hurt Cutie. He didn’t mean for any of this to happen! He thought that - he had hoped they got better, not - why couldn’t they just talk - has he become Ben? 

Mrs Potato Head plays on and on while Geordi struggles to breathe. 

Finally, in comes the heartbreak. 

Geordi didn’t even wait for Cutie to come back. The moment he regained control of himself, he ran out with his phone and wallet. His eyes are rimmed-red, just like the setting sun behind him. He knows which streets are veiled against people like him; he just hopes he can ask for help from any Empowered folks who might be entering the Department. He has to fix this. He desperately needs to talk to Cutie. He needs them to know that he loves every part of them, that he loves the magical world as much as they do. 

However, when he cuts through the park, he freezes. 

Sitting on a bench a little further from the playground is his partner, crying in the arms of a stranger. Cracks begin to form in Geordi’s heart. He’s too far away to hear what they’re saying, but judging from how the stranger does the talking and Cutie sighs and sniffles, it clued him in pretty quickly that they’re talking through him via telepathy. The stranger smiles sadly and offers them a handkerchief. His body language is serene, but the expression on his beautiful face is tight and worried. Is he a coworker? Another lover? Geordi doesn’t know what to believe anymore. Stricken, he watches them pat the stranger’s hand and gathers up their things. Leaving him on the bench as Cutie makes their way out of the park. 

It’s at that moment that Geordi’s phone rings. He answers the call without a word. 

“Hey, baby. Just left the office.” Cutie’s voice is hoarse. They clear their throat. This time, they sound more like themselves again - fake and bright. “Turns out one of the interns needed a stand-in instructor for tomorrow’s fieldwork. Since I’m on the way home, do you want me to grab anything?” 

Geordi watches them wait at the same bus stop from which he just got off. “Why haven’t you talked to me through my head?” 

“…Geordi, I’m out right now. Can we maybe talk about this at home?” 

“OK. Why have you stopped ironing your work clothes with your hands?” 

“I-I like using your new iron instead. What’s going on, Geordi? Did I do something wrong? Look, tell me how I can fix it, please? I don’t… I don’t know what I did wrong…” 

Is this how it will always be when they’re together? Hurting each other whether they mean to or not? Acts of love turning into subservience? 

The weaker side of him can’t help but wonder if it was a mistake for him and Cutie to get back together again if it means new sorrows and new regrets will always sour their relationship. 

[celaenaeiln]

C: Hi there! Even if I've been reading dick Grayson(and in turn batfamily) fics for a few weeks now, I've never actually watched/read DC stuff because even if I liked superheroes, I'm not invested enough to read the actual comics. The most I watched was the Teen Titans 2003 cartoon(which I love). I was brought into interest cause I was brought in through crossovers of other fandoms (which may be hated by some/many😅)

To give myself context, I tried to read around for Robin, and imagine my surprise there's more than one? Which, okay mantle thing I guess. But in the end, Dick Grayson caught my attention(not rlly for his looks and design, but more of his heroism and entire personality and affect in the DC world). Which leads to looking at other tumblrs and I love reading yours and when you answer the asks cause it's so much easier for me to understand the kind of person Dick is and how he interacts with the world.

Sorry for this long context, but I just want maybe your opinion, what if your opinion in the combination of how Dick Grayson should be written for him to Thrive

- Should he stay in Gotham, being in with the batfamily more? Soloing in Bludhaven? Staying with the titans? Or others?

- what about his romantic relationships? Who should be is one true one(based on canon gfs), or maybe stay single? (Just gonna be biased, but I've only knew about dickbabs and dickkory (but I heard he has other girlfriends and I've remember reading he was almost married...a few times??) but dickkory had always been for me)

- What about mentally wise? (Of course, I do think Dick needs a long vacation because of all the trauma that he has to go through), but even if I like the idea of Dick being admired for his looks because he deserves it, but I do rmbr posts that he is uncomfy with this(sexualisation, Def only staying true to the person he loves (then there's the whole...Tarantula and more thing)

Tbf, I do think is a little bit of all is what makes Dick, Dick. Haha

Sorry for the long ask, feel free to not answer because i just needed to get this out😅. I know it's actually bad I'm reading fics without canon knowledge for personality, but your posts makes me understand him more that I understand what's real and what's fanon in fics (that makes me..ugh.. but I read anyway for plot cause i don't know better)

But thank you anyway for reading this and I love your content!

(last one for this ask I swear: I've been seeing stuff where Robin name is actually Dick's mom calling Dick that. Then it's passed down as a mantle starting from Jason without Dick consenting. I tried to read at wiki, maybe I missed out but I can't find anything. Is it true? Does the other bats (except Bruce and Alfred?) know the actual meaning? Because as much as I love Dami, the whole bloodson, birthright to take the mantle of Robin beside Batman give me ugh feelings if it's true) :C

First of all, thank you so much!! I'm so happy to hear you like my stuff <333!!

I think it's fine that you started in the fandom since I sort of started out that way too lol. I had only watched Teen Titans Animated show and Young Justice before I got into fanfics and my first comic I ever read was actually Teen Titans (2011) which was Tim's run. It's been a journey.

Dick's personality was also what captivated me so here I am!

"Should he stay in Gotham, being in with the batfamily more? Soloing in Bludhaven? Staying with the titans? Or others?"

That's a really good question and a complex one. Ironically, for being such a people person, Dick seems to be doing best when he's by himself. When he's soloing, he has a sense of freedom and independence that he's been craving for a long time. The whole reason he left Bruce was because he felt like Bruce was suddenly treating him like a kid, like someone to look after, when he had been treating Dick like a partner the whole time. When Dick feels like his independence is being stepped on, it unsettles him. This is another reason why the Tom Taylor run and Dick's relationship pisses me off but that's for another time. As much as he likes Gotham, he loves Bludhaven. He thinks it's a dirty, crime-filled city, sure, but he loves it there.

He's a little crazy like that.

He doesn't have the same attachment to Gotham that Bruce does. Instead he feels that for Bludhaven.

The only reason I'm saying Dick is better off staying alone than with the Titans is because of his leadership mentality. There's a comic that I forgot the name of but Dick teams up with members of the Justice League and they trapeze through a jungle under the orders of this corrupt military general. He teams up with Arthur and automatically starts commanding people to which Aquaman tells him off, saying this isn't the Titans. Dick is genuinely sorry and backs off. For a minute. But immediately goes right back into command mode but Arthur lets it go, realizing that Dick's not conscious of it and that his behaviour is automatic. "Too many leaders" he calls the situation in his head. For Dick, the Titans have become a responsibility now. He loves them like crazy but they look up at him automatically for directions and order and he's gotten so used to leading them that it's his go to mode.

He just likes doing stuff without someone hovering over his shoulder or having to take care of others.

"what about his romantic relationships? Who should be is one true one(based on canon gfs), or maybe stay single? (Just gonna be biased, but I've only knew about dickbabs and dickkory (but I heard he has other girlfriends and I've remember reading he was almost married…a few times??) but dickkory had always been for me)"

Yeah, I've actually loved almost all of his romantic relationships. I hate Dickbabs but every other one has been fantastic. Kori was great for him.

Action Comics (1938) Issue #618

Dick says it again here. He used to envy Roy's freedom. He's also said in another comic that he fell in love with Kori for her freedom.

Secret Origins (1986) Issue #13

You're right, he has gotten almost married a few times

The first time was with Kori

The New Titans (1988) Issue #100

But then

The New Titans (1988) Issue #100

their pastor gets vaporised and body-controlled Raven feeds the soul of one of Trigon's children into Kori and she goes crazy but she recovers but it's a whole ordeal. In the end they don't get a chance to complete their marriage. They were spectacular together though. The only reason their wedding didn't go through is because the Batfam writers wanted Dick back so they took him from the Titans' writers and they needed a big dramatic scene to cut him off from the Titans. Another reason why Barbara was deaged and created as a love interest- to gatekeep him in the family.

He's also gotten married to Barbara before the retcon though.

Batman Family Issue #11

But here they were forced to by Maze and they went along with it and tricked him. At the end though, they just grab a bite to eat.

Ngl I actually would've supported this marriage. I really love this Barbara. Yes the age difference is a bit much but whatever, I still like them.

Dick and Barbara have gotten married in an alternate timeline.

Convergence: Nightwing/Oracle Issue #2

yeah, definitely didn't like this one.

Dick's also gotten fake married to a woman because Batman and Dick thought she was killing her husbands after marrying them so Dick married her to see if it was true.

Nightwing (1996) Annual #1

I liked her. She wasn't the killer and Dick did a fantastic job raising her son but even though she loved him, he didn't love her and they divorced amicably. I wish I could see more of her and her son though.

To be completely honest, my favorites for Dick are Kori and Bea.

Bea was a fantastic partner. She was understanding, loving, caring, and responsible. She was there when he was Ric Grayson and just loved him for who he was.

Nightwing (2016) Issue #53

If Kori's truly out of the picture, then Dick really should've settled down with her.

Nightwing (2016) Issue #57

She and Kori, they don't tell Dick what to do or who to be. They let him be free which is why I loved them an extraordinary amount. I'm a sucker for soft moments and Bea and Dick are couple goals.

Nightwing (2016) Issue #62

They give him the freedom he craves.

"What about mentally wise? (Of course, I do think Dick needs a long vacation because of all the trauma that he has to go through), but even if I like the idea of Dick being admired for his looks because he deserves it, but I do rmbr posts that he is uncomfy with this(sexualisation, Def only staying true to the person he loves (then there's the whole...Tarantula and more thing)"

I think Dick does need a break. His life has been a series of unfortunate events but despite all that, I think he loves it that way. Dick loves the thrill of adventure. It's the heart of who he is and why he became robin. The excitement he gets when fighting or doing crazy stunts - he loves all of it and that is his coping mechanism. I guess in order for him to thrive, Bruce needs to stop dumping all his trauma and stop expecting him to be there for him at all times of the day. Dick keeps getting dragged back to Gotham to take care of Bruce and his problems and he would go in a heartbeat but he's much happier wacking his own goons in Bludhaven. But since Bruce is so codependent on Dick, this pattern's not gonna stop anytime soon.

Truth be told I also like Dick being admired for his looks. I don't like him being called out by it though. First of all why would you comment "hot booty" to someone? It's degrading and humiliating even if you think it's a compliment. Some things are better left untold. But regardless of what people think, Dick will always be pretty and everyone in the DC universe knows this. Heroes, civilians, villains - they're all attracted to him on some level because he's so beautiful. And honestly? I'm all for it! Because that boy is the prettiest human in existence and he deserves that recognition. Just not vocally or physically.

The best thing is that Dick's beauty has no bearing on his mentality toward people. This man will choose one person and stick with them forever. He values intimacy and trust and love in his relationships which is why he's so attached to each one. This plays a massive role in his relationship with Kori. He would never cheat. Actually in all the future comics, after his spouse passes away or leaves, he never remarries. The only one exception was Batman Beyond (2016). The only one and he remarries Barbara after his wife passes away. Aside from that he remains a single parent. That's how dedicated he is.

"I've been seeing stuff where Robin name is actually Dick's mom calling Dick that. Then it's passed down as a mantle starting from Jason without Dick consenting. I tried to read at wiki, maybe I missed out but I can't find anything. Is it true? Does the other bats (except Bruce and Alfred?) know the actual meaning? Because as much as I love Dami, the whole bloodson, birthright to take the mantle of Robin beside Batman give me ugh feelings if it's true)"

Yup Dick's mother called Dick Robin.

Nightwing (2011) Issue #0

Robin (1993) Annual #4

Here's a couple but there are more instances of his mom calling him Robin.

Dick had no idea Bruce passed on the Robin costume. He finds out through the newspaper because Bruce is pissed at Dick. Like he's so mad that when he told Dick to leave, Dick actually left.

You know how there's a saying about not being able to take back words of anger? Bruce is feeling that heavily. He already had suspicions that Dick wanted to leave but before Dick could tell him, he fired him so he wouldn't have to hear those words. But Bruce is super mad that Dick left anyway. So what does he do? He makes the first boy he sees Robin.

And Jason finds out Dick was Robin when he confronts Bruce why Nightwing knows Bruce's identity. And that gets Bruce more mad because he's now feeling guilty which is when Dick comes to confront Bruce.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

But instead of meeting anger for anger, Dick expresses his hurt. About how they were partners and then talks about his life after leaving Bruce.

And Bruce loves Dick. His best friend, son, brother, and partner for nearly 11 years. They raised each other and despite his anger, he smiles in pride and love.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

Look at his smile!! He's so proud of his son.

And that's when Dick stops pulling his punches.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

Bruce looks so wrecked. The guilt and sorrow is tantamount to his pain.

Then Dick asks Bruce why he choose someone new.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

So Bruce tells him. But Dick and Bruce's relationship go way deeper than just friends or family. They know each other. They revolve around each other so Dick calls him out.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

And out comes the truth

Batman (1940) Issue #416

But Dick has always been the bigger man and instead of letting Jason become some sort of spite move, he turns Robin into a legacy.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

He passes it down like it was meant to be passed down. Because let's be honest here. The Robin name and costume is Dick's. If he wanted to, he could've taken it back, Bruce be damned. And that was one of Jason's fears.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

But despite Bruce's words to Jason

Batman (1940) Issue #416

He's not sure himself.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

But it's only with Dick's approval that he becomes Robin which is what Bruce is thanking at the end.

Batman (1940) Issue #416

And this has been a sort of tradition.

Dick approved of Jason being Robin, he endorsed Tim, and he made Damian Robin. The only exception being Stephanie. This is why Dick feels a heavy sense of responsibility over the robin predicament. He created the tradition. He approved, supported, and mentored every robin that walked in his colors and name. That's why he feels the burden of it.

I don't think any of the other robins know the meaning behind the name. Maybe they do. But ironically, the one who wasn't robin is the one who knows the meaning of it.

Duke.

[may-jailers-version]

The untold tale - a Lara Croft fanfic

So this is supposed to evolve into a Lara Croft x (fem) reader thing but I pumped this sort of intro (in the middle of the night instead of sleeping lol) and I want to see if ppl are actually interested in knowing more about this fanfic idea I’ve been having for months. As you’ll understand it’s also a lot about Lara’s mother (bc let’s be honest this woman is so fine and deserves some fine ass story of her own) and it is set shortly after the shadow events, so don’t expect lots of adventure at least in the beginning of the story. Pardon me if there is some inaccuracies regarding the video game I watched the play through a lil while ago (yes “watched”, I don’t have the money to play the games, sorry, I’m a poor student leave me alone 😭).

Even though the following text isn’t really “mature” rated, if I continue the story there will be prob adult themes so I’ll kindly ask minors not to interact with this post :)

Enjoy now I guess, and please keep in mind that English isn’t my first language (+ I wrote this sleep deprived) ; if you notice any spelling or grammar mistake, you’re welcome to let me know in an indulgent way in the comments. Any other kind of criticism, as long as worded kindly, is also very much welcomed!

TW : mention of death and loosing a relative

Lara Croft finds out about the passionate but gut wrenching love story her mother had with another woman in her youth : in her quest for informations, she confronts herself to what remains of this love story, and what could ensue of it. 

Or

What happens when the girl who wants to know more meets the girl who wants to forget ? 

Lara pushed the wooden panel still decorated by her own mother’s hand. The intricate scrolls of vegetation were faded in some places, the colours used had lost a bit of their brightness, but the spirit of Amelia Croft’s creativity and skills was still present. In fact, the whole room Lara was about to enter was still and always impregnated with the aura of the mourned and regretted mother and artist. That is probably why it was one of the first rooms the archaeologist was inclined to check after her return to the Croft Manor. 

3 weeks ago, she was done helping the people of Paititi in the Peruvian jungle rebuild and comfort their community. After days upon days  of giving more than a hand to the Mayan inhabitants, making amend, no, begging for salvation after all the wrongs she had caused, the call to home had finally hailed her. She had found her peace, somehow, seeing as the people of Paititi weren’t as resorting towards her as she was towards her own self. It had always been a wonder, how the people around her were not absolutely despising her after all the bad omens that had followed after her person. 

How could Jonah still be an infallible friend and partner after everything he has had to face because of her ? How could Joslin still speak to her after her daughter’s dad had been killed trying to protect her ? How had Sofia not shot an arrow between her eyes after witnessing her father die and the blood of so many of her people being spilled ? How could Unuratu’s people be so subservient towards her after what she had done ? 

The only time when shit seemed to have come back at her was when she had at last been forbidden from seeing Sam. There was not a week during which she didn’t think about her, about the brightness she brought to any room she entered, about the glow that used to dance in her eyes, about the softness that would envelop her skin, about the feeling of her arms wrapped around Lara’s waist. The vivid memories of times spent with what had probably been her first love, was probably the punition Lara was seeking every moment of her cursed life. The sinfulness of her existence could be purified by the aching provoked by her lover’s souvenir, and the feeling she had lost forever a part of herself. 

But today, Lara had decided to torture herself with the souvenir of another person. As she took some steps into the sunlit room, the wood under her life long partner rider boots cracked, and the floating dust twirled around her figure. Nothing had moved since the last time she had come here. This part of the house, much like the rest in fact, had been stilled, frozen into time, not as if its objects and furniture were waiting for their users to return, much like if the whole setting constituted some sort of mausoleum to the deceased that were once owners of this place. 

In this mausoleum of the matriarch, Lara was ready to bend and bow at the relics, reminders of the past, beholders of present nostalgia. So she stepped further, and let her eyes glide over the surface of the walls, of the tables, over the dryness of the paint buckets, the stillness of the brushes neatly stacked in clear goblets, or negligently sprawled on the floor. Her heart squeezed tightly when her gaze fell onto the unfinished canvas throning on its easel. A scenery, a lavender field in the french Provence, in the middle of which the faint silhouette of a woman holding down her hat could be deciphered, had been left incomplete by Amelia. 

Lara remembered what had pushed her mother to depict this specific landscape. It was some days after her mom and dad’s dispute, to which, unbeknownst to them, she had assisted, hiding behind the door of the office. Her mother needed to decompress, and found herself in her shed to practice her art in its most meditating form. But here she had been struggling to find inspiration, the conflict with her husband clouding her mind. That is when Lara had mentioned missing the sights of the southeastern french region of Provence, to which she wished to return soon. 

After her mother’s death, Lara never returned to Provence. She never got to see once again the azur blue sky, feel the wind as it brushes under a woman’s hat, smell the lavender fields her mom had been trying to captivate in her last moments. 

After some time freezing on the spot at the sight of the canvas, Lara decided to redirect her attention towards something else. The wardrobe. The same pastel green patterns of the room’s door were adorning the wooden structure of the piece of furniture. Lara pushed the clappers open, her eyes roaming its interior ; various objects were sitting on the different shelves, mainly paint brushes in other glass goblets, boxes full of paint tubes, argile statues deprived of any polychromy, some créations little Lara had made on her own. Her eyes settled for a wooden box littered with childlike drawings made of striking colours and her hand reached for the top shelf on which it had been sitting for years. 

After sitting legs crossed on the floor in front of the wardrobe, she opened the box delicately and instantly started smiling. In there were preciously conserved sketches, simple drawings that yet held bits of the Croft family’s intimacy. Pencil drawings of a chubby baby Lara smiling ear to ear, Richard reading a book to his daughter sitting on his knees, Amelia teaching her little girl how to paint… A time in which comfort seemed granted. A time in which emptiness and longing were unknown feelings to Lara. 

As her mind and heart yet again mingled with sorrow, her ruffling stopped at the drawing of a singular person. Her hand held onto the paper displaying the traits of a woman in her early 20s, a beautiful woman at that, but that she failed to recall. She must have missed the drawing during her precedent scorching, because such beauty in a woman’s face would have easily been remembered by the archaeologist. After some more contemplating, she flipped through the rest of the drawings, stumbling in the same time upon some of her own attempts of creation that her mother had kept as treasures. She finally put everything back in the box before closing it and getting up to stack it back right where she had lifted it. 

But when trying to push it in the back of the shelf in order to ensure its safety, she felt the box bumping against something hard. Intrigued, she tried to check what was constituting the obstacle, but found herself not tall enough to get a good view. Placing the drawing box upon a nearby table, she took a chair and climbed on it. Now she could see that there was nothing else than an other box sitting in the back, one she had never seen before. 

Gliding the box over to herself, she then picked it up to get a better look at it. Upon sitting it on the table, she noticed there was a lock to it, but unfortunately, no key in sight. She quickly looked around, scanning the room for any object that would be of help in her situation. She finally settled for some sculpting tool, a steel linear object with a pointing end that could easily be inserted in the little hole. After some seconds of struggle, Lara could hear the clicking sound of the interior mechanism giving up, granting her access to the content of this mysterious box. 

The felted inside revealed itself to be full of letters, written in a style that she didn’t recognise as her mother’s or father’s handwriting. She picked up the first paper, and unfolding it, started reading. 

“My dear Amelia, 

I saw you at the bar the other night. I saw you sitting right in the middle, legs crossed, chest proud, eyes piercing but oh so charming. There was only you for me, in this room, and I like to believe there was only me, too, in your own irises. My voice that evening, I hope, carried itself to your ear in order to let it hear the whisper of affection and longing. My melody, I wish, wrapped your heart in the most tender embrace. My words, I pray, have led your soul into a waltz into which each step is the remembrance of a dead poet. 

After the show, that night, your face has filled my dreams the same way my voice had filled the room. But I did not remember the clapping, the applauding, the whistling. All I could recall was how your eyes held onto my lips like the roses hold onto that morning mist. And what a rose you are to the world, what a bloom you are to me. 

Your last letter has lingered on me like a winter fur. Warm and reassuring, it’s all that keeps me from deflating by your absence on my side. Because you are like the sun to my harsh winter, only your rays can melt away the frost that the world impend on me every day. I get weary of anything foreigner to your sensuality. 

You can join me in my dorm by 9pm this Friday, where my eyes will survey the movement of the  clock sting, waiting for time to bring your physical envelope to my arms, as you know how your heart already and forever lies in mine. 

With deep and devouring love, Gabrielle.” 

Lara stayed still, frozen for the third time in a single hour. Her brain was processing what she had just read, her psyche fighting to accept the words that had been put under her eyes. Gabrielle… who was this Gabrielle ? When had she written and sent that ? Why was there so much passion in the way she spoke to her mother ? Clearly if the letter had been kept so meticulously in such a box, it must have meant a lot for the latter. 

Lara’s heart race fastened at those thoughts, her mind racing, questions fusing. Frantically she grabbed handfuls of letters and sprawled them onto the table surface, her eyes feverishly jumping from one piece of paper to the other, not knowing which one to pick next. There must have been at least 3 dozens of letters in this box, but upon emptying it, Lara’s eyes stopped on pictures stacked at the bottom. 

The first few ones were of a woman singing in a café displaying a 1920s look, a “année folle” aesthetic. Despite the picture’s quality not being the best, Lara could clearly spot a striking resemblance with the woman in the sketching. She flipped through the other pictures, where she could observe the woman’s trait more clearly, the latter being shot in different settings, at different moments, in different lights and angles. All of those pictures were showing a beautiful woman in her 20s, a captivating look in her eyes, and an almost bewitching smile adorning her face from time to time. 

And then, a vision that made Lara’s heart skip a beat. A picture of the same woman laying on her mother’s thighs in a minimalistic bedroom, the first looking up to the other looking down at her, both holding hands, both adorning a tender full and fiery expression for the other.  

Lara spent minutes observing the picture, her brows lightly furrowed, her stomach in knots, a strange sensation in her chest. She took the chair, put it back before the table and sat on it. She rested her back onto it, flipped the glossy paper to read at its back “I wish this moment had last forever, just you and me in this room, without the struggles of the outside” which was, this time, of her mother’s writing. Lara straightened her back and starting flipping the other pictures to spot any other indications and left messages. Behind one of the pictures of the woman singing in the bar, there was written “her voice like silk, her movement like water, her body like a dancing flame. She’s my angel.” 

A tear rolled down Lara’s cheek. What was all this about ? Why hasn’t she never heard of this ? How come her mother had experienced the same thing Lara had felt so shameful of in all her teenage years ? Had her father known about this ? And who was this woman her mother had loved so fiercely ? 

The curious spirit of Lara and her palpable need to know more about her lost mother drove her to spend the rest of the day into reading more of the letters, decipher all the pictures and try to find hints of this past love story in her mother’s art laying around the shed, attempting to reconstitute a puzzle to which half of the pieces were missing… 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I need to find my ao3 password and stuff back so I can publish it on there. In the meantime, here some kind reminders :

🍉Keep getting informed on the situation in Gaza (Palestinian genocide) and share the story of unfortunate endangered families. 

🇨🇩If you can, donate to charities for Congo so that shelters can be built for families and especially women and children fleeing exploitation, mass murder, and SA.

🕊️Keep your eyes on countries which are currently suffering from imperialism such as Ukraine, Georgia, Armenia, Kanaky (New-Caledonia).

💙Boycott fast fashion brands like Shein (just one example) to protest against the exploitation of endangered ethnic groups in China. 🌧️Last but not least, stay HYDRATED, the world needs healthy activists ! ♥️

Happy pride to all also :)

[shittygaypornmagazine]

Maybe atheists from your own religion can talk about it then

https://www.tumblr.com/sophia-epistemia/731237402894581760/avoiding-your-beliefs-real-weak-points

Okay here we go. The pissing on the poor reading comprehension of this website together with the antisemitism is at it again.

First of all, hello! I am a stranger on the internet, who you might know as being Jewish! You don't know shit about my experiences with Judaism, of course, or what kind of Judaism I practice, if I even do, and hence have no understanding of "my own religion", however.

Second, this is the og post:

From its contents you might see that I am requesting ex-christian atheists not to put their religious traumas and biases onto other religions, something which results in nothing but silencing the voices of the people practicing/who practiced said other religions, erasing their unique experiences and trauma, which has nothing to do with Jesus and his followers.

Now, lets examine what you said and the link you sent me.

"Maybe the atheists from your own religion can talk about it then"

You said it. And by it, well... I assume you meant religious trauma in general. Which is, of course, something people who practice/d Judaism can and should talk about. I talk about it! All the time!

But see, the difference between what you're saying and what I'm saying, is that I talk about religious trauma within Judaism. I want to talk about it, but I don't want to hear an ex-christian person's opinions or takes on it. I dont want to hear about how "every religion is a cult actually" from a person who was a part of the religion whose extensive opression and antisemitism shaped mine. They fundamentally will misunderstand me and everything I have to say, as do you. I dont want to have to go through piles of comparisons to Christianity and the trauma it brought people every single time I want to get to the stuff that is relatable to me. Hell, I have trauma from it and I'm not even Christian! So fuck yeah I know about it! What I want to know is my people's stories.

That's where your link comes into play.

It is an amazing post, there is absolutely nothing wrong with it. It is a true account and critique of Orthodox Judaism from a person that experienced it first hand and I absolutely support it. I wouldn't have a problem with you sending it to me if it was for purely educational reasons, but there is a sort of gotcha in your tone (which might be coming from the dismissive "your religion" remark that is interestingly close to the wording "your kind").

See, my issue is that you have no idea who I am. You don't know that I had my own shitload of experiences with Orthodox Judaism and that it is the reason I currently I am where I am, faith-wise. You don't know the misogyny, homophobia and transphobia I've experienced. You don't know that I am currently actively looking for a Reform Judaism synagogue in the town I am planning to move to because I want to cleanse my experience of Judaism from all those associations. You think that by virtue of me asking ex-christians to stop putting their hands into every single punch bowl at the party, I dismiss the flaws of my bowl and its recipe. And that, is what I have an issue with.

Every religion and a way of practicing it has flaws. What matters is your experience of them. The way people around you treat those flaws. I want to be able to enjoy being Jewish while acknowledging the shitload of stuff that is wrong with it. Me and my partner are writing a whole book whose main character, Leroy, is all about it! About wanting to be understood by the traditions you were brought up with, and the struggle of them potentially rejecting you. I want to hear Jewish voices when I ask about problems related to practicing Judaism. I want to hear Islamic voices when I ask about issues related to practicing Islam. And yes, I want to hear Christian voices when I ask about the issues with practicing Christianity!

What I don't want, however, is someone else's hands in my punch bowl.

And yes, sometimes cross-referencing is very helpful. Sometimes bringing an outsider perspective is very helpful. But the key-word is sometimes. It should be an option, but it should never be the default.

[an-aroaces-harem]

Ellis Twilight Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: I just deepl and google translated my way through this because I wanted to know what’s going on, so there are definitely mistakes but I believe I managed the general gist of the story. Anyway, it’s just a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes. Ikemen Villains belongs to Cybird.

Another note: I know Ikemen Villains is set in victorian London, but I will use the japanese suffixes because I prefer them.

Ellis: Here you go, Jude.

Jude: … Ah?

Jude-san looked stunned for a moment when he saw Ellis-kun who had brought me with him.

Surprisingly, he said nothing.

(… Or rather)

Kate: I will accompany you as a fairytale writer, thank you very much.

Jude: … Tch.

He clicked his tongue at Ellis-kun, who seemed to realize that there was no point in saying anything, and completely ignored my presence.

Ellis: I delivered the offer to the procurement department last night, which is leaving today.

Jude: Of course. If it doesn’t arrive first thing in the morning, I’ll have to take a pay cut.

(I can’t believe you’re working for Crown and you’re even working for the company. … You’re both so busy.)

I followed alongside Ellis-kun behind Jude-san, silently observing him as not to disturb him.

I found out through observation that …

Jude-san runs Raven, a diversified trading company …

… they were doing a wide range of business with branches abroad.

He had a business meeting in the VIP room of one of the best department stores in London, had a meeting with the inspector at the Port pf London …

The time that follows the two of them around flies by in a flash.

And speaking of the two working together …

Jude: No deals until this is settled.

Jude: You were dishonest, so you deserved it. If you don’t want to get out of debt, then spit up blood and make up for it.

Jude-san has a sharp tongue and a sharp mind …

It seemed that business partners looked up to him, business rivals envied him, and employees were in awe of him.

On the other hand …

Ellis: Fine, I’ll take care of the rest.

Ellis: I’ll teach you what you don’t know and we’ll fix it together.

Soft-spoken and attentive, Ellis-kun was well-liked both inside and outside the company wherever he went.

(They’re kind of brilliant opposites, aren’t they?)

In the meantime, the short hand of the Big Ben was about to pass the apex.

Jude: I don’t want the writer to follow me. I don’t know what they’ll say if I show up with extras.

Ellis: Mm-hmm. Okay.

Kate: Thank you for allowing me to accompany you.

Jude: I can’t wait to see if you can say the same thing the next time we see each other.

(What does that mean …?)

I tilt my head, not understanding what he means.

Jude: You brought him here, so you should clean yourself up. I can’t touch him.

Ellis: Yeah … that’s the plan.

(… I guess Ellis-kun gets the message.)

Jude-san walks away without so much as a glance at me, and Ellis-kun turns to me.

Ellis: You’re tired. I’m sorry I brought you around.

Kate: No, not at all! I am physically strong. I was trained as a mail carrier.

Ellis: I see. I’m glad. … Then, let’s go to the next one.

Ellis: Can you hang out with me just a little bit longer?

I was asked to go out with him a little longer, and here I am …

(Why are we here …!?)

It was the post office where I worked.

When I was hesitant because of the crowd, Ellis-kun turned around.

Ellis: What’s wrong?

(That’s as much as I’d ask …)

Kate: It’s my workplace, so I know a lot of people, but … is it okay if I meet them more than a month in advance?

Ellis: Victor said there are no restrictions except for going out alone, so why not?

I blinked at the answer, which was more laid back than I expected.

(That’s not what a person being monitored says, but … is that okay??)

Ellis: I have some mail I want to send. I’ll go take care of it.

Kate: Yes …

Moreover, leaving me there, Ellis-kun heads for the counter.

(What if I ask someone for help or something and confidential information is leaked …)

I can’t hide my bewilderment at how carefree the ‘surveillance’ is.

(At least, I guess that means Ellis-kun trusts that I would never do such a thing.)

(Or rather …)

(If information is leaked, at that point, everyone who knows about it, including me, will be dealt with …)

… “Shall we kill her?”

When I remembered that he had made such a remark, without hesitation, I shook my head in a panic …

Coworker with braids: Kate!?

Kate: Ah.

Coworker with braids: Kate! Hey guys, Kate’s here!

At the sound of her voice, our coworkers notice and gather around me.

Coworker with red hair: Kate, how can you suddenly be serving in the palace?

Coworker with black eyes: We were all worried.

(I just suddenly stopped coming to the office, and they are so worried about me.)

(Even more, I can’t tell them.)

(And that I don’t know if I’ll be able to come back safely in a month, ever.)

(But …)

Not wanting to cause worry, I gulp down my anxiety.

Kate: I’ll be fine. But it’s only my first day, and I don’t know what’s right or wrong.

Kate: I’m sure I’ll figure it out.

Coworker with braids: I’m sure that a person who has turned Sleigh and Kramer into good costumers will be fine no matter where they go.

Coworker with red hair: I’d miss you if you were suddenly gone.

Kate: I’m … really sorry about that. It’s something beyond my control.

Coworker with braids: Well, it’s not every day you get an order from the Palace that you turn it down.

Coworker with black eyes: But I’m rooting for you, Kate.

Coworker with red hair: Hey, take this!

Coworker with red hair: I bought it for all of us to give to you if you stopped by. I’m glad I was able to give it to you.

Kate: Oh … so much?

My arms are piled with gifts of this and that.

Blanket, cookies from my favourite store, and a letter from the colleagues.

Kate: Thank you …

I’m holding my happiness in my arms, but I can’t move an inch because I’m afraid I’ll drop something if I move …

Ellis: I’ll take it. Give it to me.

The baggage is snatched from next to me.

The eyes of my colleagues turned in unison to Ellis-kun.

Coworker with braids: Who … is he? Kate’s boyfriend?

Coworker with red hair: Oh, I know him! He’s the kid who escorts the scary traders.

It was a complete beehive of activity.

Coworker with braids: Kate, please explain your relationship with this handsome man!

Kate: Ummm … we know each other from our work at the palace, we just met yesterday.

Coworker with braids: Hmm … that seems a bit close for my taste, though.

Coworker with red hair: I doubt that …!

Kate: Hey, everybody, just calm down …

As I’m placating my excited coworkers, Ellis-kun takes the rest of the luggage, all of it, out of my arms.

Ellis: I’m sorry for all the fuss. I’ll wait for you outside.

Kate: Oh … I’m sorry too! I’ll be right there.

Ellis: Take your time.

I give a small bow to everyone and see Ellis-kun off to the outside.

(I’m sorry I put you on the spot …)

Coworker with braids: Marriage before return, huh?

Coworker with red hair: Congratulations!

Kate: I’m telling you, it’s not …!

… The commotion eventually died down when the director’s voice came from the back of the room, saying “That’s enough of that”.

After exchanging a few words with my colleagues, I went outside to find Ellis-kun waiting for me, leaning against a lamppost with his luggage.

(Even from a distance, it’s quite a view.)

With his supple body and long arms and legs, he stands out in the city.

Kate: Sorry to keep you waiting.

Ellis: No, not at all. … You could have talked to them more.

Kate: It’s okay! Um, my colleagues made a terribly rude remark …

Even though I only work with him, they may have made him feel uncomfortable by calling him my boyfriend.

(Something I wish I could apologize for … Oh, yes.)

Kate: There is a good baguette restaurant near here. Let me treat you there as an apology.

Ellis: …

His eyes, filled with light, stare at me as if they have found something.

Ellis: I think I understand a little better why you get so many gifts.

Kate: Eh …?

Holding a large bag full of gifts from my colleagues, Ellis-kun stepped out to me and …

… he brought his face so close to mine that our foreheads touched.

Ellis: No, you don’t have to treat me, but I’m curious about the restaurants you recommend.

(… Ellis-kun, I don’t understand what’s talking about.)

But surely, his kindness had penetrated my heart.

As evidence, my second meal with Ellis-kun was much more pleasant than the breakfast.

Kate: Wow, it’s late …

When we left the restaurant, dusk was approaching.

Ellis: … Let’s go back to the castle.

Ellis-kun looked out at the cityscape as it was beginning to darken, absentmindedly.

It was the first time I had heard a slightly urgent voice, and I immediately realized that he was excited.

(I’m sorry to keep you up at this hour, but maybe he had plans for the evening.)

Kate: If we go down the alley this way, we can take a little shortcut.

With the knowledge I had acquired as a postwoman, I entered a narrow alley.

Ellis: Ah …

Ellis: Well, I guess it’ll be okay if we’re together.

The sun is being blocked out, and the alleyway’s growing dim.

It was almost time to get out into the lighted street.

Men in hunting capes: …

Suddenly, a man appeared to block the way, and I tried to pass him by avoiding him on the side of the road.

(What …?)

A man stepped forward, but his path was blocked.

Feeling something strange in the air, I turn around and see two men appear from behind me as well.

Man in hunting cape: Jude Jazza’s woman?

(Jude-san?)

Kate: No, I’m sorry I’m not … but who are you?

Man in hunting cape: We’ll check the facts later. Catch her.

The three men suddenly took things out of their pockets and attacked.

(What … eh!?)

Ellis: Kate-san, hold this for me for a moment.

Kate: Wah …!

Confused, I accept the package containing the gifts from my colleagues.

Ellis-kun pulled out a black-bladed knife, which bounced off the blade of the man in front of the group.

Ellis: It might be a little scary, but it’ll be over soon.

(…)

While I am speechless, he is knocking them down one by one, just as he said “It’ll be over soon”.

He pulled out his knife to counter the blade, and basically just his long arms and legs seemed to suffice.

Ellis: Good job.

The unconscious men were lined up tightly on the shoulder of the road …

When Ellis-kun’s hand touched the top of their heads like a finishing touch …

… the wrists of the men, still unconscious, snapped together as if in prayer.

Kate: Oh my god …! How did you do that?

Ellis: When I touch the head, I can detain the wrist like this.

(I just remembered …)

… a ‘cursed’ person possesses abilities that ordinary people do not have.

In the back of my head, Roger-san’s voice comes back to me.

Kate: Is that … what Ellis-kun is capable of?

Ellis: Yes. That’s right. It’s so much easier not to need a rope at times like this.

Ellis-kun came over smiling as if he had finished his work.

He took the package from my arms again.

Ellis: Jude has a lot of enemies everywhere, so he often gets attacked like this.

Ellis: It was unusual for him to have a woman around, so I guess that gave them the wrong idea.

(Resentment … I see.)

What I can understand is the result of observing the work during the day.

(It must be a tough job at a trading company to be attacked like this on a daily basis.)

Ellis: … I’m sorry.

Kate: Ellis-kun has nothing to apologize for! Thank you for protecting me.

But Ellis-kun lowered his eyebrows and shook his head.

Ellis: Actually, I could have predicted this. This is what might happen if I took you out.

Ellis: But … when you found out I was going to work today, you looked worried.

Ellis: I was selfish and got carried away. … So, I’m sorry.

(Ellis-kun …)

I know it sounds selfish, but I want you to know that everything you did today was for me …

I already knew enough.

(The breakfast, the stories he told me about the members of Crown, the fact that he let me accompany him to work …)

(Maybe, he even took me to the post office.)

Kate: I’ve been happy all day … so there’s nothing to apologize for.

I smile to tell Ellis-kun that I appreciate his kindness.

Ellis: … Hm, good.

The smile on Ellis-kun’s lips was as warm as the last light of the day …

Perhaps it was because the approaching darkness made me feel impatient … I felt a strange stirring in my chest.

When I return to my room, I open the package of gifts from my coworkers.

“Kate, I care about you.”

“Please let me know when …”

The kind words in the letter from my colleague touched my heart deeply.

(I’m glad Ellis-kun took me to the post office so that I could receive this.)

Ellis-kun tried to make me smile, so I feel very happy right now.

I stepped into a different world.

I can’t go back to my daily life for a month …

I was so frightened, and I felt like he was telling me “It’s going to be okay.”

(I’m feeling more confident than this morning that I can make it through the month.)

(Especially if Ellis-kun is with me.)

… And the next morning, with new determination.

Victor: I heard that Jude’s business partner attacked you yesterday?

Kate: Oh, yes, but thanks to Ellis-kun, nothing happened.

Victor: It’s a good thing, though … before the contract expires …

Victor: That means Crown’s confidential information is at risk, too! Isn’t that right?

Ellis: Yeah.

Jude: I have a bad feeling about this.

In response to his grumpy voice, Victor plastered a big smile on his face …

Victor: Good, Jude, Ellis.

Victor: I want you two to be responsible to guard Kate!

(What!?)

Jude: Hah?

Ellis: … Guard?

⤷ next chapter

[1yyyyyy1]

in regards to your last post about female heterosexuality... i have an observation i always find rather ticklish when talking with male partnered women about the risks of dating men. for example, when we would talk about the terrible things men can and do do to women in relationships, they would describe those men as "toxic" or "bad" men. it was like i could see the gears in their heads turning, trying to "not my man though" their observations.

it's actually funny as well as sad. or we will talk about the health risks of PIV sex and they'll say well it's only dangerous if you have more than one male partner and all i can do is just nod lol.

one of like a million reasons why i choose to have only separatists in my circle now.

I'm of the opinion that men are misogynistic at the baseline, and that men with a potential to be non-violent towards women are genetic outliers, so women insisting on it being the other way around strikes me as some kind of social unawareness. I keep my guard up around women like that because I expect the same unawareness to prevent them from seeing their partner's true character (or, from "picking the right man", if such a thing were possible) and even seep into their opinions on other social matters. Again, this is what I personally rely on when I meet other women because assessing people's social intelligence and knowing whether they can be relied on in difficult circumstances is important no matter how offensive people believe this to be.

Women refusing to acknowledge the dangers of PIV is its own topic, and its implications are much more sinister than "getting back at stupid women who are not as brave as us for facing the reality of PIV" (or whatever petty drama radical feminism positions it as). The very few conversations that surround the negative effects of semen (and the possibility of them being neurological of all things) are often framed as "misogyny" and not the valid concern they are, and while I understand that they are usually brought up in a derogatory context, it is still important medical knowledge that women should be aware of if they are to consent to heterosexual sex. I feel that much of the indignation towards these topics ends up preventing women from learning about female anatomy more than anything else.

Believe it or not, I've met several women who were seemingly aware of the "male nature" yet built their lifestyles around them all the same, and I no longer think that bringing awareness to these subjects is at all the ticket to a feminist society. I'm getting the impression that the only precondition to prioritizing women (and yourself) is, well... The desire to prioritize women and yourself.

[persephoneprice]

lily, please elaborate on your clemmie and lyssie post 😔🙏🏽

i know i did this to myself but i’m actually nervous to write this out because i don’t think anyone is going to agree with me but here i go!

before i start- i do want to clarify that i love both characters and this is in no way me hating on clemmie or implying that lysistrata is perfect! clemmie is miles ahead in terms of being caring versus her peers.

however, i do not see clemensia as a truly good, kind person. (again, this is all my personal interpretation and i could be way off!)

a few things stick out to me about clemensia that make me feel this way (pre-snake bite, obviously! def unfair to hold post snake-bite against her).

the first example is when they are discussing how to force people to watch the games.

clemensia says-

“The real problem is, it’s sickening to watch”

lysistrata says-

“Most of us don’t want to watch other people suffer.”

to me, i see this as lysistrata acknowledging and putting focus on the children suffering- where clemmie focuses mainly on how it makes her feel to watch.

clemensia also talks about her first meeting with reaper-

“Mine wouldn’t speak. Not a word”

not horrible by any means- but it still feels lacking in empathy (and not great that she referred to reaper as ‘hers’).

another example that comes to mind is when clemmie and coriolanus are discussing the games after arachne death and she says this-

“Yes, or make them Avoxes, or something,” said Clemensia. “It’s awful, but not as bad as the arena. I mean, I’d rather be alive without a tongue than dead, wouldn’t you?”

this isn’t a bad thing necessarily! but to me, i see it as misguided and failing to actually put herself in the shoes of these children and sort of failing to have genuine empathy.

another example is regarding iphigenia-

“Clemensia had once told Coriolanus it was the only revenge she could take on her father, but refused to give any more details.”

again, miles ahead of most of her peers because she refused to elaborate further but i believe that exposing that to coriolanus at all was a deeply unkind thing to do.

and then here are some examples where i see lysistrata displaying kindness (though i’m aware that it may be unfair to bring up things lysistrata did during the games bc clem didn’t get the same chance to bond with reaper!)

she makes the effort to help jessup even before he protects her in the bombing-

she’d apparently been working hard to connect with Jessup “I brought you some cream for your neck,”

she is grateful to jessup after he protects her instead of just assuming that her life is worth more. she’s also willing to speak out and tell everyone this despite knowing how people view district citizens.

“She’s going around saying that big, ugly boy from District Twelve protected her by throwing his body over her, but who knows? The Vickers family loves the spotlight.”

it’s also worth noting that coriolanus follows this up by saying he’s never seen a vickers trying to claim the spotlight.

she also says this-

“And who wouldn’t rather be the victor than the defeated?”

“I don’t know that I have much interest in being either,” said Lysistrata.”

which i think is very decent considering she lived through the war just as much as her classmates.

she displays empathy and understanding for dill & reaper when her classmates do not-

“Isn’t he the one who promised to kill all the others?” asked Pup.

“Doesn’t look so tough to me,” said Urban.”

“She’s his district partner,” said Lysistrata. “And she’s almost dead now. Tuberculosis, probably.”

she’s also quick to call out her classmates during the games-

“Like musical chairs,” said Domitia with a pleased look.

“But with people dying,” said Lysistrata.”

when jessup has rabies and is chasing lucy gray-

“If Jessup can’t win, I want Lucy Gray to. That’s what he’d want. And she can’t win if he kills her,” she said. “Which might happen anyway.”

to me, this shows that she has been able to empathize and understand who jessup is as a person.

also while other classmates display anger or frustration at losing the prize she says this-

“Coriolanus could barely hear Lysistrata whisper, “Oh, don’t let him die alone.”

because she cares about jessup. she also sends food to lucy gray directly after that.

and of course there’s this interaction which i think speaks for itself-

“I do.” She took a deep breath. “What I’d like people to know about Jessup is that he was a good person. He threw his body over mine to protect me when the bombs started going off in the arena. It wasn’t even conscious. He did it reflexively. That’s who he was at heart. A protector. I don’t think he would’ve ever won the Games, because he’d have died trying to protect Lucy Gray.”

“Oh, like a dog or something.” Lepidus nodded. “A really good one.”

“No, not like a dog. Like a human being,” said Lysistrata.”

but the fact that she firmly and openly asserted his humanity in front of the entire capitol essentially is massive to me.

and of course there’s the fact that she had been nice to sejanus-

“Snow had invited Festus and Lysistrata to join the party, as they’d liked Sejanus better than most of his classmates and could be counted on to say nice things.”

of course this is all rambling that doesn’t actually answer the question but i feel like it was important to try to explain why i saw them as slightly different.

essentially i think my thoughts on kind vs nice can be summed up by this quote-

Niceness, then, is often expressed through words or gestures, while kindness is often expressed through acts.

and lysistrata proved repeatedly that she is willing to act by speaking up consistently despite how taboo it is in the capitol. whereas i don’t view clemensia as someone who would be as willing to directly assert a district citizens humanity so publicly (again, my own personal interpretation.).

because of this- i believe lysistrata is a lot more likely to get herself in trouble quicker by opening her mouth and sticking up for the district citizens, especially after this experience. whereas i do not think clemensia would be as likely to risk her safety to do so.

[lucky-clover-gazette]

captive prince book 1 highlights & annotations

chapter 13 & final notes

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

It was true; it was somehow not even a surprise, more like a truth that had grown for some time on the edge of his awareness, now brought into sharp relief.

some damen brain insight! he’s not stupid or oblivious. he just ends up distracted, often, due to the more pressing things in front of him and/or subconscious avoidance.

‘You can’t go to Delfeur,’ Damen said. ‘It’s a death trap.’

YAYYYYYYYYYYYYYY damen doesn’t want laurent dead!!!! 🎉

‘Is your reputation so far in the dirt that you think the Council will choose your uncle for the throne anyway, unless you prove yourself?’ ‘You are right on the edge of what I will allow from you,’ said Laurent.

but he does allow SOMETHING, which is new

‘Take me with you to Delfeur,’ said Damen. ‘No.’ ‘Akielos is my country. Do you think I want her overrun by your uncle’s troops? I will do anything in my power to prevent war. Take me with you. You will need someone you can trust.’ Speaking those last words, he almost winced, immediately regretting them. Laurent had asked him for trust last night, and he had thrown the words back in his face. He would receive the same treatment. Laurent just gave him a blankly curious look. ‘Why would I need that?’

context: laurent is delusional about his capability to overcome near-insurmountable odds alone. this frustrates and concerns damen, and he isn’t able to let it go, even though he hates laurent. his values and honor come first. laurent is both confused and mildly amused by damen’s concern, because he doesn’t expect anyone—especially not damen—to actually care about his well-being.

Damen stared at him, suddenly aware that if he asked, ‘Do you think you can juggle attempts on your life, military command, and your uncle’s tricks and traps by yourself?’ the answer was going to be: Yes.

i love laurent. i love that his stubborn determination is very much a virtue, but also something that occasionally makes him act like a total idiot. and damen sees this, and understands this, for better and/or for worse.

‘He asked me to bed you, then report back to him.’ Damen was forthright. ‘Not in those words.’ ‘And your answer?’ That, unreasonably, annoyed him. ‘If I’d bedded you, you’d know it.’ There was a dangerous, narrow-eyed pause. Eventually: ‘Yes. Your style of grabbing your partner and kicking their legs open does stand out in the memory.’

the fact that laurent allowed this kind of banter to happen at all is kind of a big deal. he was definitely close to smacking damen about it, but went for a half-hearted insult instead. for laurent, that’s basically a white flag. and it’s even more meaningful, since the exchange was related to sex, which has proven to be a vulnerable topic.

‘My dear brute,’ said Laurent, ‘I want you to rot here.’

context: laurent is exhausted, stressed, and delusional about his immediate future. damen wants him to survive (for now), to see things realistically, and feel the urgency of his circumstances. i don’t think laurent cares if damen rots—he just wants him to stop saying true and helpful things.

also, this is just kind of a hot thing to say. something about the conflicting affection and contempt. i don’t know.

‘Are you that sure of yourself?’ Damen called after him. ‘I think if you could beat your uncle on your own, you would have done it already.’ Laurent stopped in the doorway. Damen saw the cupped yellow of his head, the straight line of his back and shoulders. But Laurent didn’t turn back to face him; the hesitation only lasted for a moment before he continued out the door.

he’s right! laurent knows he’s right! he’s just too proud and delusional to admit it!

probably because to laurent, admitting weakness only results in vulnerability and pain. he wouldn’t believe that anyone would actually want to offer him help without an ulterior motive. so his guard stays up, and he does what he needs to do alone.

Laurent was leaving tomorrow. Laurent, infuriating, intolerable Laurent, was pursuing the worst possible course, and there was nothing Damen could do to stop him.

“i hope she fries / i’m free if that bitch dies / i’d better help her out” (buffy the vampire slayer, once more with feeling)

It was easier to blame the death of a boy on mischance than that of a young man about to ascend to the throne. Damen could see no reason why boy-Laurent should have escaped that fate. Perhaps familial loyalty had held the Regent back . . . until Laurent had blossomed into poisonous maturity, sly-natured and unfit to rule.

context: the regent kept laurent alive as a child and teenager so he could [redacted] >:(

Laurent could inspire homicidal tendencies simply by breathing. Kastor, he thought, had no idea what lay across the border. Kastor had embraced an alliance with Vere. He was vulnerable, ill-equipped to fight a war, the bonds within his own country showing cracks to which a foreign power had only to apply pressure.

the dramatic irony here is insaaaaaaaane. damen your cognitive dissonance is showing

Did Laurent really believe he could do this alone? Laurent would need every weapon at his disposal in order to navigate this course alive. Yet Damen had not been able to persuade him of that. He was aware, not for the first time, of a fundamental inability to communicate with Laurent. It was not only that he was navigating a foreign language. It was as though Laurent was an entirely other species of animal.

romance is two strong-willed and competent people communicating despite the odds, becoming stronger and more competent together than they would be apart. also doing improv comedy to survive the horrors

He touched the starburst pattern at his shoulder. He was dressed in Laurent’s colours, and bearing his insignia. That was a strange feeling.

kinda hot. like the collar and cuffs, but they actually earned it.

submission vs. respect theme, etc.

He was to serve and obey, as any man.

but NOT, notably, as a slave.

‘Sleeping in his tent?’ ‘Where else?’ He passed a hand over his face. Laurent had agreed to this?

i love how damen’s follow-up question isn’t necessarily, “do i agree with this?” but “how the fuck did LAURENT agree to this?”

After a long moment, Damen said, ‘Whatever else you think, I don’t share his bed.’ It was not a new insinuation. Damen wasn’t sure why it rankled so much now.

probably because there is something resembling mutual respect developing between damen and laurent, so the implication that their interactions are entirely sexual is offensive. submission vs. respect again!

‘If I’d sent them after you,’ said Laurent, ‘I would have told them you went out the only way you knew, through the courtyard off the northern training arena. Did you?’ ‘Yes,’ said Damen.

hot.

The pre-dawn light bleached Laurent’s hair from gold to something paler and finer; the bones of his face appeared as delicate as the calamus of a feather. He was relaxed against the doorway of the stables as though he’d been there quite a while, which would explain the colour of Jord’s face.

laurent lean #9. smug eavesdropping.

And he did not need gilt to be recognised under a parade standard, only the uncovered bright of his hair.

i’m counting this as damen likes blondes mention #6. implies that laurent is “parade standard” simply because of his pretty hair.

Laurent paced forward. His eyes passed over Damen in turn, displaying jagged distaste. Seeing him in armour seemed to have drawn something unpleasant from the depths. ‘Too civilised?’ ‘Hardly,’ said Laurent.

context: “i cannot fucking believe i’m dressing up my brother’s barbaric killer like a veretian and letting him join my traveling party”

‘What is he doing here?’ ‘Captaining the Guard.’ ‘What?’ ‘Yes, it’s an interesting arrangement, isn’t it?’ said Laurent.

oh, he’s SEETHING. humor as deflection.

‘You should throw him a pet to keep him off the men,’ said Jord. ‘No,’ said Laurent, after a moment. He said it thoughtfully.

context: mainly i think laurent knows that govart’s unsatisfied libido is likely to make him screw up. but also i’d like to believe that he’s just super over the pet stuff

Laurent took it without saying anything. He tucked it carefully into a fold of his riding clothes. Then after a moment, he reached out, and touched Nicaise’s chin with one knuckle. ‘You look better without all the paint,’ said Laurent.

oh he cares about this kid so much, and clearly values his gift. this is the most affectionate we’ve seen laurent in the entire book.

‘Do you think a compliment will impress me?’ said Nicaise. ‘It won’t. I get them all the time.’ ‘I know you do,’ said Laurent.

“so did i.”

‘I’m coming back,’ said Laurent. ‘Is that what you think?’

context: this is meant as a comfort to nicaise, but nicaise hears it as a threat.

neither of them believes that they would ever deserve or receive protection.

‘I’m coming back,’ said Laurent. ‘To keep me as a pet?’ said Nicaise. ‘You’d love that. To make me your servant.’ Dawn passed over the courtyard. Colours changed. A sparrow landed on one of the stable posts close by him, but lifted off again at the sound of one of the men dropping an armful of tack. ‘I would never ask you to do anything you found distasteful,’ said Laurent.

context: this is the truth.

It didn’t surprise Damen that Laurent was popular with the townspeople. He looked the part, all bright hair and astonishing profile. A golden prince was easy to love if you did not have to watch him picking wings off flies. Straight-backed and effortless in the saddle, he had an exquisite seat, when he was not killing his horse.

NICE VS. GOOD THEME! damen thinks that if the townspeople saw laurent as he does—a bitch—they would realize that he isn’t good. because he still believes, most of the time, that niceness equates to goodness. and so every pleasant quality laurent possesses—his appearance, his title, and his skills—is in opposition with his unpleasant behavior. laurent’s unpleasant actions and qualities are, simply, Not Good. and damen is too distracted by laurent’s more tasteful qualities to consider how his distasteful decisions could be more ethical than they appear (for example, mercy killing the horse his uncle poisoned).

inversely, we have damen and akielion slavery. damen knows the gentle submission of slaves in ios, and the way their masters “honor” them—in that, he sees goodness. but when he sees the cruel way veretians treat akielion slaves, he sees wrongness, which he then advocates against. but what he can’t see, is that “palatable slavery” (gag) is still slavery, and just as wrong in akielos as it is in vere. and it is just as evil of akielos to partake in the institution, if not more evil since it’s their institution in the first place, than whatever is going on in vere. 

damen has moral integrity. he has a mind and he uses it. but he also has a massive blind spot, because he believes that everyone else in the world is as honorable as he is.

laurent has the opposite blind spot. he doesn’t expect anyone to be honorable, ever. least of all his brother’s killer.

the two of them make a good team.

final notes

damen likes blondes mentions: 6

laurent leans: 9

(nice)

character elements to watch out for: 

laurent perspective context (knowing what i know, what sense can i make?)

laurent & nicaise

laurent coping mechanisms (pretending, delusion)

damen coping mechanisms (avoidance, distraction)

damen reconsidering the ethics of akielios

mutual moral arbitration

series themes: 

niceness vs. goodness

submission vs. respect - “there is no honour in obedience”

suffering alone vs. fighting together

pain and humor

honor and integrity

sex, power, innocence, violence

trauma, desire, consent

[songmingisthighs]

High End

group : ateez

pairing : hongjoong × model!reader

genre : smut

wc : 2.8 k

warning : explicit smut; oral (m receiving), alcohol consumption, degradation (??), unprotected sex (just no), hongjoong being cocky, mc being a filthy sub, bathroom sex ?, cum eating, idek man it's confusing like there's slight spit play ig? and like some pussy slapping, unrealistic depiction of sex. if your sex after this sucks pls don't come at me. not my fault your partner is not kim hongjoong.

a/n : it's ass oclock. literally the witching hour like 3.33 am. if i don't make sense, i am not sorry. you are reading the horny thoughts of a delirious woman who just saw kim hongjoong dressed in balmain and suddenly she got inspired to write about this genre of hongjoong. it's hongjoong. how can i not? any complaints should be addressed to my chinese lawyer. sue mi.

buy me coffee?

Kim Hongjoong is a powerful man and you know it.

You saw him when he was invited by Olivier Rousteing himself to get a sneak peek of the newest line. It was obvious to everyone there that Kim Hongjoong was a new face, he had never been seen in the fashion scene before and yet he suddenly appeared next to Olivier himself like they were old racquetball buddies. Honestly, it kind of seemed like Hongjoong was simply Olivier's newest pet, a fascination of his worldly inspiration.

Or so you thought.

Kim Hongjoong easily commands any room he's in no matter what he was doing. The first time you laid eyes on him was when he was being introduced to the venue owner. 'Soft' was the first thing you thought of him followed by 'delicate'. You have never seen a man with such stature to seem inviting yet absolutely forbidden. There was this aura building simply by him smiling at people and making small talk. There was a moment where your eyes met and you swore you saw a glint in his eyes that seemed... possessive. Your model friends told you to pay him no mind but even as you were called to disrobe and do final touches backstage, your eyes didn't leave him. Neither did he on you.

Throughout the show, through wardrobe changes, you notice that Hongjoong too experienced some changes of his own. He was eyeing you in a way that was rather different than when you both first laid eyes on each other. The outfit the stylists put on you felt almost like nothing under Hongjoong's gaze. You convinced yourself that he was eyeing the material and the styling or even the makeup but no, he was practically undressing you. Your assumption was further supported when you saw how his gaze shifted from the model who went before you to you. His rounded orbs that peeked from his sunglasses slanted, his bottom lip sucked between his teeth, his crisp suit showed a noticeable rise of his chest that remained until you turned around, and when you reached the end to strike one last post, you saw him ducking his head to watch you as he let his sunglasses slid down his sharp nose and licked his bottom lip.

So obviously when Olivier brought him over to introduce him to you, you couldn't help but be intimidated. But when Olivier said that Hongjoong was intrigued with you, you felt your toes curl and your breath hitch. It was even worse when he took your hand gently and planted a soft kiss on the back. The motion was slow and steady as if he was appreciating every minuscule welcome of his gesture from you. Electric shocks coursed through your body from the spot where his lips lingered just a tad bit too long. Not that you were complaining though, you liked the feeling when he made contact. For some reason, the littlest touch felt addicting, it left the spot he touched with a warm sensation that you craved even seconds after it was over. Not only that, but the way he spoke was alluring. Of course, he tried speaking English to you and Olivier, and while it was good enough for you to understand, his manager took over and helped translate. All this time you thought French was the sexiest language but apparently you were wrong because suddenly Hongjoong's aura changed once he was in his element. That room was his element and you couldn't peel your eyes off of him, it was as if you were in a trance. You hadn't even realized that Olivier excused himself and Hongjoong to attend to the guests, wanting Hongjoong to meet some of the people from Balmain itself. While Olivier simply turned and walked away, Hongjoong took a step towards you, tucked your hair behind your ear and smiled a devilishly gentle smile.

"I hope to see you soon."

Though it was phrased like a request, you realized that it was very much a demand. With eyes that dropped to the hand he kissed, he looked back up to you and left with a not-so-subtle wink.

Had anyone else seen the both of you interacting, they would've immediately tried to cut the sexual tension with a sword and they would've done it so easily. Kim Hongjoong is a powerful, influential man who knows a lot of things that are in his element. But what he knows most is what he wants and moreover, he knows how to get what he wants. You hadn't even realized that he slipped something into your hand until you looked at it.

A room key.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It wasn't clear how it happened, it wasn't clear when exactly it happened. But you found yourself between Hongjoong's manspreading legs in the bathtub, sucking his cock as he took sips of his Moet messily. Droplets of the bittersweet liquid fell from the corners of his lips down to your face and into your busy mouth. The taste of his precum mixed with expensive alcohol somehow made your head swirl as if you were experiencing a drug-induced high. You were never one to analyze the taste of cum, but you had a sneaking sensation that rather than the alcohol, it was Hongjoong's cum that made the alcohol taste better. Maybe it was some sort of a drug, Kim Hongjoong that is, he was your drug. Through your heavy lids, you could see Hongjoong smirking down at you with maniacal ease playing on his lips, taunting your presence and your work. The golden liquid in the tall glass was swirled around to further emphasize the power he had between you. While it seemed like he wasn't affected much by your greedy mouth trying to coax an orgasm out of him, the way his cock twitch inside your mouth said otherwise. You knew that having him was a good idea ever since you first laid eyes on it when Hongjoong oh-so-casually pulled the tie of his bathrobe to reveal his boner. Never have you been so attracted to someone's genitals but you knew you just had to have that pretty thing in your mouth.

"You like this, don't you? You're enjoying yourself much more than I'm enjoying my cock between your lips," he mocked. Usually, you wouldn't appreciate being degraded like that, a sexual act in its own nature is explicit and dirty but somehow he made it sinfully pleasing. You couldn't help but clench at how he was talking down at you, mocking you for being desperate for him. His chuckle sent a wave of vibration that reached your tongue, "I can see your cunt clenching at nothing. Do you really want me that bad? Do you like my cock that much?" he taunted. The fact that the bathtub was facing a window alluded you momentarily, you were so focused on sucking off Hongjoong that the whole world almost literally blurred away.

For Kim Hongjoong and Kim Hongjoong only, you were nothing but a toy that he could collect and play with however he wanted. But you had no issue with it as upon realization, Hongjoong is a man who appreciates art. Whatever he does has a meaning and the meaning is more often than not uniquely beautiful. To be the art that he possesses to appreciate, was like the highest honour you could ever reach.

The more you tasted him, the hungrier you were. As your head bobbed to take more of him, wanting to get him to cum on your tongue so you could selfishly guzzle his juice for yourself. "Greedy, greedy girl," he said almost in a disappointed manner as he ran his hand down your hunched back down as far as he could reach, "How can something so beautiful be so sinful?" he sighed. Your mouth detached from his cock when you felt him drag his fingers from just above your ass and up. The feeling of his nails marking you ever so slowly was thrilling; your pussy dripped with arousal, mixing into the warm, soapy water, and your spine arched as goosebumps rose in the path that Hongjoong made. Had you not been kneeling on the tub, you would've definitely slipped and possibly injured yourself.

Hongjoong watched in awe as your face contorted in pleasure. He watched as your bottom lip trembled and eyebrows furrowed while your eyes shone with the help of the accumulating tears that gathered from the pleasurable sting. The only thing Hongjoong regret at that moment was how he couldn't make a baroque painting out of your erotic expression. The lines forming on your face told all the emotions that you were feeling as if it was telling its own story and explaining the harmony. Looking south, your trembling breasts made your state somehow more precious; the stiff peaks looked so inviting but the fleshy mounds warned him to treat you delicately. In contrast to the night sky that served as a backdrop, you looked like a star in his eyes.

Without wasting time, Hongjoong slid into the tub, joining you in a kneeling position as he turned your body to face the window. The gleaming lights of Paris in the night framed the reflection of you with Hongjoong pressing his body tightly to your back. For a moment, you could feel the smooth head of his cock prodding around your pussy, collecting your arousal as if he wanted to collect them so as to not go to waste. Slowly and carefully, you felt Hongjoong's arms making their way up your arms. Your face heated up when you felt him lift them and lock them behind his neck. "Keep them there. Can you do that for me?" Your eyes fluttered at the feeling of his hot breath and lips on your ear. This man truly knew what he was doing. Which was why he slapped your cunt when you didn't give him an answer. "I was asking you," he growled which made his chest vibrate on your back. With a nervous lick to your bottom lip, you meekly nodded, "Yes, sir, I can," though you tried, you couldn't hold the crack of your voice which thankfully Hongjoong found adorable so he didn't even comment on it. "Good," the hand that slapped your cunt stayed in its place with two of his fingers nestled between your nether lips comfortably. His other hand soon found purchase between your breasts to rest on your sternum. He must've felt how quick your heart was beating because he began grinding his cock on your cunt accompanied by his fingers tapping on your clit into the rhythm of your heartbeat. Even if you willed yourself, and you did, you couldn't help it when your hips jolted into the taps, wanting more stimulation from his fingers as your hole clenched, forcing some of your arousal to drip more to Hongjoong's cock.

In one swift move, Hongjoong impaled you with his length. The sudden impact almost sent you reeling forward, hurtling even, had it not for Hongjoong's surprisingly strong grip on your body. Each thrust from his hips sent your thighs trembling in pleasure and it was only intensified when his fingers decided to toy with your clit. Melodious grunts and moans on top of sensuous huff and puff of air should not be as erotic but Hongjoong managed to fill your head with his verbal affirmation of pleasure. Your senses were sent to overdrive while your perseverance was put to the test. Through each slip of your fingers or how your knees buckle, you tried to not falter. "God, Hongjoong," you moaned, nearly squealing when Hongjoong pinched your clit rather harshly. The sudden treatment caused your body to shiver and it was to Hongjoong's delight to see your breasts bouncing and legs trying to close.

If you think you were in a state of absolute bliss, Hongjoong was in a whole new plane of existence. He loved how responsive you were to his moves, the way your body sought more of him whenever he touched a new place. He loved how your skin felt against his. But nothing beats the feeling of staking a claim over a pussy, your pussy. Though you both just met, his ego managed to convince him that your pussy was made for him, it was melded to accommodate him and only him. He wondered how he could feel so amazing being in someone's cunt. Obviously, there is pleasure, but anyone can feel pleasure from anything. Not everyone had the privilege of experiencing heavenly sinful bliss. It felt so right but so wrong at the same time because how was he supposed to live without being inside of you all the time after this? He never wanted to leave. Even if he does, he wanted to make sure to truly make you his.

"I'm going to make your pussy mine. I'll make sure to leave part of me inside you," he announced. Your heart skipped a beat, anticipating the absolute recklessness Hongjoong was about to do to you. Words never had such an effect on you but you love it, you love what Hongjoong was doing to you where he wanted to do it with you. The sound of sloshing water and also the feeling of being swayed by the movement of the water due to your activity felt organic, it felt natural. Droplets of water that splashed on your entangled bodies served to remind you of the reality that the rest of the world still existed. But it didn't seem to matter. Not when you and he were so close to cumming.

Knowing that he didn't want your hands to wander, you decided that your release was more important. Your right hand left its post to grab the Hongjoong's hand that was nestled on your cunt. Before Hongjoong could protest, your now vacant left hand grabbed a handful of Hongjoong's hair on the back of his head, instantly causing Hongjoong to gasp and roll his eyes into their socket. Meanwhile, you worked his hand on your clit, rubbing harsh circles on the abused bundle of nerve frantically. Your hips ground to chase the pleasure on your clit and to meet Hongjoong's thrusts continuously until you were squealing, releasing your cum. As you rode the high or orgasm, your body tried to curl up on its own, your cunt had a vice grip on Hongjoong's cock as your legs tried to snap shut. The pleasure was almost too much for you to handle that it started becoming painful. But the pain was too good, so addicting, you wanted more of it and you didn't want it to stop. So through the pain, with Hongjoong's other arm keeping you close, you enjoyed every bit of sadistic release.

Hongjoong tried to pump his cock as best he could despite the firm grip your cunt had on him. Thankfully, he managed to unload his seed in time, just as your hole began fluttering. The knowledge that he was making you his along with the sweet sensation of release were the two things Hongjoong could think about. On top of that, he also believed that he couldn't get enough of it, especially the sight of your body twitching in front of him, decorated by the Parisian lights. It was a boost to his ego. Moreover, when you finally collapsed into the tub with your head resting on Hongjoong's hip next to his softening cock, Hongjoong never felt more powerful.

In contrast to the activity you both just went through, Hongjoong softly carded his fingers through your hair, gently so as to not cause tangles. The comforting gesture allowed you to close your eyes and enjoy the moment, though your lips decided to show some appreciation to the man by peppering kisses around his hips. "You did such a good job," Hongjoong cooed affectionately, genuinely satisfied with what just happened. So much so that he took his glass that he abandoned on the tray by the tub to finish off his Moet.

You thought he just wanted to finish off the glass but you were wrong. Because the next thing you know, Hongjoong maneuvered your body to lean back on the tub as he leaned close to you. With his thumb, he gently coaxed your chin open and spit some of the alcohol into your mouth. Your eyes widened in surprise initially but the stern yet hopeful look in Hongjoong's eyes made you swallow the liquid. The slight burn of alcohol was no match to the fire that burned in Hongjoong's eyes when he saw how obedient you were. Once you opened your mouth to show that you had indeed swallowed the mixture of his spit and alcohol, Hongjoong wasted no time in pressing his lips wholly on yours. The rest of the alcohol in his mouth dripped down to yours, some you welcome down your throat and some dribbled down the sides of your mouth down to your chin and further down, creating a trail to your cleavage. With a last pat to your spent cunt that was leaking his cum underwater, Hongjoong smirked to your lips, "Such a good job indeed."

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