#unicorn injection

[molinaesque]

Walton Goggins as Wade Felton (The Unicorn, 2019-2021)

[cariciapadre]

hes so crazy he needs to be medicated

[kastlequill]

do u listen to hozier by chance

perchance. . .

[beef-unknwn]

Gonna hold off on that animatic because hoo boy my mental health. Instead, today you will get Ava in overalls. And maybe wildstar redesign. Stay tuned

[prahacat]

(via @astranite )

TIL that Christopher Lee voiced King Haggard in the animated adaptation of The Last Unicorn. No idea how that went past me, but pls tell me there's fanfic that honors this fact and has Dooku keeping a herd of the GFFA's equivalent of unicorns on his palace grounds. It's perfect. High society thinks the Count of Serenno wants to be extra af with his menagerie of exotic creatures, but in reality, it's because hoarding unicorns is the only thing that still gives this miserable, old man a speck of genuine joy in life. I need this.

[babyleostuff]

― BROKEN CAMERAS

𝜗𝜚 THEME: fluff, domestic vibes, absolutely whipped kim mingyu 𝜗𝜚 PAIRING: dad!mingyu x mom!reader 𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT: 1.2k

⦗💌 ⦘in which your little girl wants to take a picture of you and mingyu but drops the camera she stole from him in the process

„i was thinking,” mingyu murmured into your hair and turned the volume of the tv down, „that we could go to the farmer’s market tomorrow. since i don’t have any schedules, y’know.” 

you peeled your eyes from the screen and looked up at your husband from where your head was resting on his chest and nodded immediately, as if you’d ever say no to a day out with him and your daughter. „sounds perfect,” you sighed happily and fixed the blanket that mingyu wrapped you in some time ago. „maybe we’ll manage to find some vintage frames to match those in the living room.” 

he hummed and brushed his nose against your cheek. „just… this time we have to avoid the section where they keep the plushies.” 

ah yes, the plushies. 

your little girl’s current hyperfixation and your husband’s cause of nightmares. not that you minded, there was something endearing in a 6 foot something man sitting in a circle of bears and unicorns drinking tea from a miniature teacup. 

you smirked and lifted your head. „but she’ll be devastated, honey,” you fake-pouted.

she wouldn’t though, not really. your little girl has had her dad wrapped around her little finger since day one and she was a very smart kid, so figuring out how to get her dad to do anything for her wasn’t that difficult. she’s had the puppy-eyes technique figured out for a long time now, which… she used a lot to her advantage. 

mingyu groaned and lowered his head, bumping it against your shoulder. „there’s literally no room left in her bedroom. last night, when i was kissing her goodnight, i tripped over at least three of them!” he whined.  

that was very much true. you spent fifteen minutes this morning trying to find one of her shoes amongst the mess of unicorns of all shapes and sizes, and all you found in the end was a sock that you had been looking for for the past month. it didn’t help that soonyoug bought her tiger plushies every other week, not to mention seungcheol who loved spending his money on your daughter for some reason. 

but you couldn't help but throw your head back and laugh at your husband wholeheartedly. „gyu, you’re capable of tripping over air, it doesn’t count in your case,” you giggled and ran your fingers through his messy hair, pushing back the few curly strands that fell over his eyes. “besides, she’ll find a way to get those plushies either way. it’s not like you’ll ever say no to her.”  

you could feel your husband’s pouty lips against your collarbone as he said, “you’re right. but it’s unfair that mr.unicorn gets all the cuddles now. even that ugly monkey that looks like it had been through a car crash and a bad lip injection is more loved than i am.” 

heavens, sometimes you wondered who the real baby in your family was. 

“gyu, listen to me,” you took his face in your hands and peeled him away from you, “stop overreacting-,”. 

“but what if she’s all grown up now and won’t-,”. 

“she’s three, kim mingyu. besides, she loves you, you dumbass,” you ran your thumb over his cheek, though that didn’t seem to convince him. “she’s a daddy’s girl, okay? trust me, i am the one who should be complaining about the lack of cuddles,” you said and smoothed the crease between his brows.

“if you say so,” he sighed, and nuzzled his cheek into your hand. “but-,”. 

suddenly, out of nowhere, you heard a loud bang behind you, like something fell and... glass broke? mingyu being mingyu, almost fell off the couch, but you were quick to turn around to inspect where the sound came from. 

and your heart almost broke when you saw what, or rather who, was standing behind the couch.

"oh, honey," you cooed.

your little girl was standing in the middle of the room, clad in her pink nightgown mingyu had bought her on one of his trips abroad, only instead of the bright smile that always graced her face, there were tears in her gorgeous, brown eyes.

"what the?" your husband murmured next to you. “is that my camera?” 

your daughter’s eyes widened in panic as she looked at him. “‘m sorry, daddy,” her voice wobbled in the most heartbreaking way possible. the little girl’s tiny hands were clutching onto the neck strap that was supposed to be connected to the camera. “didn’ mean,” she sniffled, “to break it,” she said and the first tears started rolling down her puffy cheeks. 

you quickly untangled your limbs from the blanket but before you could get up, mingyu put his hand on your thigh. “no, no, no,” he almost tripped from how fast he got up from the couch. “it wasn’t your fault, princess.” 

you thanked whatever grace that your daughter was smart enough not to move because the floor around her was litreed in small glass shards and you weren’t sure what you and mingyu would do if anything happened to her. 

not even a second later, he was at her side, picking up her small body and engulfing her in his big arms. 

“don’ be angry, daddy,” your baby cried into mingyu's shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck. 

mingyu shook his head and turned around to face you with a heartbreakingly sad expression. “i’m not angry, baby. i was just scared,” he murmured. “daddy thought you hurt yourself.” 

you waved for them to come over to where you were sitting and muttered a quiet “come here”.  

your husband placed your daughter on his lap, her head pressed against his chest, on the same spot where yours was just a minute ago. her tiny fists were pressed against his naked tummy as she continued to sniffle quietly. 

wiping every tear that escaped her eyes you started to hum one of the lullababies mingyu used to sing to her when she was a newborn, something you still did when she was upset. your husband was stroking her hair the whole time, rocking her back and forth, as you continued to hum quietly.

“why did you take my camera, sweetheart?” mingyu asked after a while, when her breathing calmed down a bit. 

“i woke up,” she said, looking up at him with her big brown eyes. “and i saw you n’ mommy sittin’ and i wan’ to take picture. like you always take of me n’ mommy.” 

mingyu’s own eyes welled up with tears and he quickly tucked her head back to his chest so she wouldn’t see him upset. 

“oh, baby,” you whispered quietly, though you weren’t sure who needed more comforting at that point. “that’s so sweet, but next time ask me or daddy for help, okay? you could’ve seriously injured yourself.” 

your baby girl nodded and she scrambled off mingyu’s lap to throw herself in your embrace instead. well, it was nice to know that the unicorns and your husband hadn’t replaced you completely yet.  

“what do you say we go and grab a camera together, hm?” he asked. “and we can do a whole photoshoot, we can even make a white background with the sheets.” 

“pink. pink sheets,” she said and clapped her hands. it seemed that you and mingyu breathed a sigh of relief that your daughter was back to her normal, bubbly self.  

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[lalunanymph]

PLEASURE IN PAIN

✧.* SUMMARY tangled in sylus's web, you discover the many insidious ways he can make you break even without causing you any pain

✧.* WARNINGS dark content, interrogation kink, sex drugs, injections, blindfolds, coercion, forced confessions, captivity, mentions of drugs, non-con, bondage, restraints, mean onychinus leader sylus, fantasies, role play, lingerie kink, mentions of alcohol, edging, orgasm control, orgasm denial, clit play, vibrator play, petnames (kitten, sweetie, bad kitty), Dom/sub undertones, language humiliation, twist at the end, established relationship, MDNI, 18+

✧.* DAWN SAYS listen, i can explain um,,,, so basically,,, i have no excuse

✧.* A03 | twt/x

It was acrid and dark behind the blindfold.

The material was one of the good kinds, made from thick cotton which barely allowed any light to seep through. As you shifted in the cold, hard seat, you caught the faintest tinkling of chains. Your fists clenched, heart tripling in speed as you remembered the events which led you here in the first place. 

The sparkling mini dress you wore for the night out. Strobing lights. Pulsing excitement. Hands on your waist. 

The shot of vodka you accepted from a handsome stranger in a bar, his dark eyes glossing over your flushed features. 

All you remembered was the lights fading into pressing darkness and now, here were were.

Restrained and right in the hands of someone dangerous. 

The tap tap tap of sharp dress shoes on the floor pierced through the blood rushing in your ears, stealing your attention instantly. 

Whoever it was, he smelled of a rich cologne, the fragrance of his piney aftershave filling your nose when he bent forward, the heat of his body close enough to seep into the thin material of your dress. 

“Good morning. I trust you had a good rest, Y/N.” 

Horror jolted deep in your chest at the fact that he knew your name. The deep, dark cadence of his voice incited a faint stirring of familiarity. Hands that were warmer than you expected. reached out to touch your face. 

“W-who are you?”

God, what a fucking clichéd question. You squirmed in your bonds, and yanked your head back, mustering a glare twisting on your lips.

“I asked you a question—”

“And I heard you,” he shot back, a dark chuckle rumbling from his chest. “I see we have not yet been introduced to each other—how rude of me. My name is Sylus…”

The tapping of his dress shoes made a circle around you, and you craned your neck around to keep him within reach, your entire body tense from anticipating what he would do next.

“... and you have some information I want.”

Your mind went to the gun strapped to your thigh, and you tried to shift around, wondering if it was still on your body.

As if he could read your mind, his dark chuckle touched your ears.

“Oh, are you looking for this?” 

The cold tip of your UNICORN-issued firearm touched your cheek, and you recoiled back, seething.

“Give that back—!”

“Only if you tell me what I want to know.”

The sound of the gun clicking, its barrel pressing right to your head, made you flinch. A hundred thoughts raced through your spinning mind; if the other Hunters knew where you were. If your watch had given off a signal when you were kidnaped. Did anyone notice you leaving the club? How could a man kidnap you without anyone putting up a fight? 

“They know where you are,” you warned him. “The other Hunters. They know where I am because my watch has given them my signal.”

His response was a confident scoff. “You’re mistaken, sweetie,” condescension dripped from his tone, and you felt the barrel of the gun move right to your forehead, pushing back a stray lock of your hair. The cold tip traveled right to your jaw, teasing the swell of your lower lip. 

Without warning, he pushed the metallic chamber past your lips, forcing you to suck on the cold metal. 

“Mhmph—!”

Rough fingers twined in your hair, locking your head in place. Forcing you to take it.

His reply exacerbated the humiliation and fear you felt when he said, “I’ve disabled your signal and your location. It’s simple really. The Hunter’s tech you use is so poorly outdated, I could laugh at it.” 

Sylus retracted the barrel, and you his sadistic glee shone when he chuckled at your sputtering and gasps. The taste of bitter gun residue coated your tongue, and you spat it out, complete fear threatening to steal the last fragments of your composure. 

Your chest heaved, mind narrowing down onto the meaning of his words. 

Hopeless despair bled right into your next words when you uttered: “You're wrong. They’ll come for me. I know they will.”

“Oh, you pretty little delusional Hunter,” he muttered scornfully. The sound of your gun clattering to the ground made you flinch; your years of training at UNICORN to withstand interrogation slipping from the frenzied state of your mind. 

Theory was vastly different from practice, especially when confronted with the lord of the N109 Zone himself.

“The Hunters are not coming for you. Not when I don’t want them to find you.”

Casually, he draped an arm around your shoulder, toying with the ends of your hair. The heat of his body was almost unnatural, and with him this close, you could feel the expensive silken material of his shirt rasp against the bare skin of your back. 

“But, I have a proposition. A proposition for you to leave with your head intact. Do you want to hear it?”

He spoke before you could say another word. “An armory of mine was raided by a group of Hunters. They appeared to have insider knowledge as none of my security feeds can catch sight of them. I had a hunch it might be Jenna’s doing when one of them explicitly mentioned your name on the recording—”

The sound of panting filled your ears, and with a jolt, you recognized Tara’s heavy breathing.

“We need to get out of here… Y/N….”

A clicking sound and the clip ended.

“Recognize her?” 

His fingers danced along the column of your throat, playing with the silver necklace you wore. The tips of his nimble digits were calloused, rasping against the delicate softness of your skin; a sharp contrast of sensations which drew an unwilling shiver running down your spine.

“I don’t know her,” you denied, needing to protect Tara. If Sylus got his hands on her, there was no telling what he would do—how he would break her.

You had more experience than this, a class above other rookie Hunters. If anyone could withstand a sticky situation, it would be you. 

His exhaled chuckle touched your ears, drawing goosebumps down your arms—and not the good kind. 

“Listen here, sweetie. Let me make you a deal. You tell me all the names of your little Hunter friends who dared to raid my armory, and I let you go with your life intact. How about that?” 

You turned your head to the side, unable to bear the arid heat of his hot breath on your cheek. Clearing your throat, you shifted uncomfortably in the hard chair, buying time to form a reply. 

“H-how do I know you will keep your promise?” 

In response, Sylus chuckled, a low, hearty, expensive sound.

You could picture him laughing like that on golf courses, or while slicing someone’s throat into ribbons.

“It seems your perception of me leans towards error, kitten,” the sudden nickname took you off guard. “I always keep my promises, especially to enticing little Hunters like you.”

His forwardness made your head spin. There was little doubt of the desire bleeding through the untoward advances he disclosed onto your unwilling ears. 

Your cheeks ran warm, and you fought to contain your level headedness, licking your lips as you considered the realities of sharing such delicate information with him. 

On one hand, you might risk compromising the mission framework that Captain Jenna had likely concealed from you to protect your other comrades. 

But, on the other hand, if you didn’t leave alive, you would never have a chance to bring down Onychinus again. 

The choice was in your hands.

And you chose silence.

The tap tap tap-ping of his shoes on the metallic floor was back again, and this time, it echoed the panicked palpitating of your heart.

You flinched when Sylus grabbed you by the shoulder, pushing some weight to dig you deeper into the chair. You winced, but remained firm in your pretend, nonplussed silence.

But, you forgot this was Sylus you were dealing with. The infamous, ruthless Onychinus leader. The man who could bring entire empires down to their knees.

He would never take ‘no’ for an answer, much less your stubborn silence. “Cat got your tongue, kitten?” He swept a hand underneath your chin, toying with you as he tugged your face up, forcing your lips within an inch of his.

“That's not very nice, isn't it? Not responding to someone's question.”

His tongue flicked out, touching the corner of your mouth and you resisted the urge to part your lips, firmly keeping your jaw shut.

“Mhm. I see how it is. But, don't worry, kitten,” his voice had taken on a silken quality, dangerous and Low. “I have ways of making people talk—of making you talk without laying a single finger on you.” 

He let go of your face and you heard his footsteps receding away. Alone and afraid, you tugged on the chains, trying to get in touch with your Resonance. Maybe you could break through these chains, using your Evol to melt through the metal links.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you.” Another voice joining the fray stopped you from squirming around, your head whipping up to catch who else was here.

“The chain is fortified to withstand any Evol attempts. It's made of a Protocore material that dulls the biological linkage reaction to the atoms surrounding the area. It's a Deepspace damper which means you won't be able to work around it.”

His footsteps were heavier than Sylus’s, and he moved with purpose, setting down what sounded like a metallic plate, where items clinked together. 

What he did next hit you like a freight train when you felt the cooling sting of an alcohol swab on your bare arm.

“No—”

“I propose you stay still or else the needle would break off and stay stuck in your arm.” There was a sadistic edge to his warning, an undeniable joy he got from being Sylus's puppet.

A sharp sting pinched your arm and you gritted your teeth, holding your breath when you felt the ice cold fluid siphoning into your veins.

The man gently pulled out the needle, using another swab to staunch the light bleeding. 

“There. You'll feel the effects soon.”

Your mouth was drier than a desert when you forced it to speak past the terror lodging in your throat.

“What did you give me…? What did you inject inside of me?!”

Barely paying your hysterics any mind, the man chuckled.

“That, my darling, was a patented N109 Zone aphrodisiac. A new formula we are testing and lucky you—you're the first one to receive it!”

His maniacal laughter grated your ears, and you shook your head from side to side, gasping. 

“Shit! Stop this—don't do this to me!”

“In a minute you will feel your entire body growing warmer, and then, that's when the fun begins,” he muttered gleefully. 

Whether it was a placebo effect of his words, you felt your entire body growing heavier. As if you had downed an entire row of shots, you felt heat suffuse across your face, creeping down your neck and arms, curling into a ball right in the pit of your stomach. You gasped, fighting against the manacles to try and touch your cheeks. They were hot enough to melt off your skin; the shivers wrecking you apart and driving you close to the brink of committing arson. Except the only thing on fire would be your self-control.

Embarrassingly, your nipples began to stiffen underneath your dress. A fresh wave of slick dampened your panties and you felt your heart triple in speed at the sound of the door opening, more footsteps entering the room.

“Is it done?”

Clenching your thighs together, you fought back against an obscene moan about to rip free from your mouth at the low timber of Sylus’s voice.

“Yes, sir. She's undergoing metamorphosis now.”

Flickers of flames lapped down your neck, stoking the heat in between your thighs to a terrifying level. 

Like your senses were heightened, you could smell him from where you sat; the spicy heat of his cologne permeating your senses.

It brushed over you in waves when he stepped closer, the heat of his body grazing your bare shins.

Sylus ran a finger across your jaw, smiling to himself when he noticed how you gritted your teeth and squeezed your thighs together. 

“My, my. Already feeling it, aren't we? You've always been such an overachiever, haven't you, kitten? You’re the fastest reactor we’ve ever had.” 

You felt the imprint of him kneeling next to you, the restraints around your ankles keeping your lower body open and vulnerable to him.

“Let's try this again.” His touch on your thigh was possessive, circling higher and higher to where you needed him the most. Sylus leaned in, his cheek pressed to your inner thigh, inhaling the musky scent of your pussy underneath the tent of your dress, which was hotter than any desert air he had ever put his mug through.

You jumped. Clearly not expecting his face to be so close there.

“The names of the Hunters who raided The armory. Now.”

In a tone which broke no give, Sylus was not a patient man waiting for you to toe around and beat the truth from the bush. He preferred to take matters into his own hands; he would edge the truth of you if he could.

Your breathing caught. Looking like sin in that little dress which dipped under the valley of your tits, and the flimsy, silky hem which rode all the way up over your plush, pretty thighs… What else was he supposed to do?

Not give into his desires?

“You're so unfair.”

Your hips rocked upwards, an obscene giveaway to the need building inside of you. Sylus wasn't a man who was built on inexperience; he had seen a good number of women in his days who needed a little bit of rope to get themselves loose for him.

But you were a goddamn natural.  

Your tits stretched across that sorry excuse of a dress, the see-through fabric showing off your tight nipples ready to be sucked and played with. The sight of your bare shins bathed under the fluorescent light of the interrogation room added to the allure, the forbiddenness of this situation.

You came to life in that chair, writhing like a possessed wave and keening softly, the drugs working their magic to keep you sensitive to his every touch.

“I never said I would play fair, kitten.”

Your cherry red lips puckered into a despairing snarl, and he imagined them around his cock, sucking him off. Milking him dry. 

One single touch to your neck and you jerked as if you were bitten by a snake. Strapped to the chair and trembling from every innocent onslaught, you were the perfect picture of a helpless slut, ready to be devoured.

Sylus moved to the two-way windows, switching off the tinted end so whoever was on the other side could not see what was happening. Not for the sake of giving you privacy—hell no.

He wanted to enjoy his little captive in peace.

The sound of items being rummaged around perked your ears up. You felt him approaching you, the blunt tip of something rubbery pressing right on the dent of your lower lip.

“Do you know what this is?”

Shaking your head, your eyes twitched behind the blindfold. 

Clicking a button, the rubber tip suddenly came to life, and you jerked back, hearing a familiar hum.

“Oh… oh no…”

Biting back a chuckle, Sylus watched as you could do nothing but whine in the chair. You twisted around, testing the bonds, feeding right into your helplessness when you realized there was no way out. Your nipples were two little cherries ripe for the picking underneath your dress, your arms covered with a carpet of goosebumps.

The sound of adhesive tape tearing rang loudly in your ears, and you tensed, feeling him stick the vibe right to your inner thigh. Sylus taped the purple head of the toy right at your opening, making a dent on the pretty pink panties you wore stretched tightly around your cunt.

He switched it on and the effect was immediate.

You twisted and writhed; grounding your ass on the chair, trying to dislodge the vibrator.

Dulcet mewls spilled from your lips, and Sylus did nothing but cross his arms and watch.

It was one thing being a slut in private, but there was something absolutely delicious about watching a woman lose it in such a public setting. Especially when she knew you were watching her.

You groaned. You gasped. Throwing your head back. The vibrations rocked through your world, leaving your mind a blank, humming state.

You grounded your ass in the chair, feeling more juices slick up your pussy. Sylus used more rope to pry apart your legs, stretching your panties even further until the vibrator dipped into the cleft of your pussy, purple head enclosed by slick folds.

“Feels good, right?” His low, dark voice resonated from your right side, lips close enough to brush against your ear. 

Sylus had interrogated enough people in his life to know when their reactions would be telling. He could tell when someone was close to tapping out and revealing their grand master plans.

He could tell when they were on the last leg of their resolution before they broke down and spilled the truth to him.

But for you, Sylus could tell you were on the verge of the biggest release on your life

Please, please… your writhing body seemed to beg. Don't make me do this. Don't shame me like this.

Taking it a notch further, he grabbed your head, twisting your hair painfully in his grasp. 

The sharp bite of agony was enough to tip you right to the edge, your thighs trembling. Pretty little Hunter who always got what she wanted, he thought. If only your captain could see you now… if only your teammates could see how easily you folded to me.

Back arched, mouth hanging open, you were the picture of submission.

And he ripped it away from you at the last second.

Sylus switched the vibrator off, watching as you crumpled back into the chair, a gasp ripping past your lips.

“Did you think I would give it to you without getting something back in return?”

His amused, silky tone cut through the blood rushing in your ears.

“Names, sweetie. I want them.”

Your tongue felt like a bloated fish in your mouth, the words unable to swim past the gasps struggling to fight past the surface.

Amused by your breathless gaping, Sylus ran his fingers down your chin, scratching it lightly as if you were an unruly cat.

A whine slipped past your defenses and he grinned. Such picture perfect submission delivered to be seen. Sylus wanted to further rub in how hopeless you were without him.

Ripping the blindfold off, you blinked your pretty eyes, like a baby deer seeing sunlight for the first time. Your irises dilated at the sight of him, the look of bewilderment morphing into a spiteful glare. 

“Let me go!”

It was adorable, really. You actually thought you could order him around. Be the boss. 

Sylus wanted to show you who ran this show; whose ship you were standing on. 

He leaned against the wall, one perfectly groomed brow raised. “And why would I want to do that, sweetie?” Taking another step towards you, he was pleased to find your eyes roving after him, determined to monitor his every movement.

Poor, naive little Hunter. Haven't you realized by now? You were never the predator—you were just prey. His prey. 

“Don't glare at me like that, sweetie. It is very unbecoming of your pretty face.”

Biting past a scathing remark, you wanted to tear these shackles off you and give him a piece of your mind. But, Sylus was already bored with the games.

“I'll keep on asking if you don't tell me everything you know, sweetie. And we can do this everyday.”

The threat stopped you short, a trembling exhale hanging between your parted lips.

Sylus could see the fear swirling in your eyes, the singular look of apprehension going right to his cock.

Not every captive could get such special attention from him, and yet, you were given a premium experience.

"You should be more thankful, sweetie. I'm not this nice to anyone and I'm doing a lot for you."

He caressed your cheek, and even that simple act could make your pussy clench, hips grinding against the static vibrator. 

“I'll see you in a few moments, sweetie. Till then, rest well.”

You should've known Sylus Qin was a man of his word. 

The serum injected remained strong for what felt like a day, but they kept on replenishing it, especially after the first signs of waning began, which mostly happened after meals. You grew to dread the sound of the door flap opening, because it meant another day of writhing with your hands tied in front of you, unable to relieve the tension between your legs.

You were in a light doze, slumped against the chair, when the door opened, and you opened your groggy eyes. Sylus stood over you, a smirk etched on his face. 

He was dressed in a fancy suit the color of a bright flame, his silver hair slicked back. A black stud adorned his left ear, silver necklace with a ruby pendant hanging from his throat. 

“Going to officiate the opening of Hell?” you sneered, and he snorted.

“How creative of an insult, sweetie. But, no.”

He stepped closer, and you had no idea what would come next until he clicked a button inside his jacket’s lapels, and the shackles holding your wrists behind your back melted to the ground with a loud clang. You winced, rubbing your raw wrists. 

Wordlessly, he extended a hand out towards you, and you scrutinized it with a glare. Sylus chuckled, shaking his head.

“I’m not going to bite. Well, not yet, at least. You’re still important to me, sweetie.”

Gingerly, you extended your hand toward him, cautious but accepting of his touch. Your fingers, still stiff from the lingering tension, trembled slightly as they wrapped around his warm palm. The firmness of his grip grounded you, offering reassurance despite him being the reason why you were captive in the first place.

Sylus gently pulled you to your feet, his other hand around your waist to keep you steady. The sensation of pins-and-needles surged through your legs as the blood slowly circulated. You wobbled slightly, but his presence was solid, anchoring you as you found your balance.

“Careful, kitten.”

Your blood boiled at his casual use of that nickname for you. Firm hands pressed against his pecs, and you tried to push away from him, nearly falling flat on your face in the process. Sylus’s arms immediately shot out to catch you, holding you close to his broad chest where the heat of his body radiated the warmest, burning right into your flushed cheek.

“Let me go—”

He removed his arms from your frame, lifting them up in mock surrender. Ignoring your glare, he procured a velvet shopping bag from god-knows-where behind his bag, handing it to you with a smug smile.

“I bought these for you, kitten.”

You stared at him in blatant confusion, but took the bag. From inside the smooth depths, you procured a skimpy pair of lingerie, made of lace and held up by wisps of mesh. The bustier was low-cut, easily showing off your chest, and to your mortification, the panties were crotchless.

“I thought you could use something to cover up that sorry excuse of a dress you’re wearing,” he said, voice dripping with playful sarcasm. 

You spluttered, eyes wide, staring at the garment he gifted to you with disbelief. Of all things he could’ve chosen for you, this was his idea of an improvement? “And you thought this was the better alternative?” you snapped, incredulous. 

Sylus was unfettered by the rising pitch of your voice, and simply grinned, a mischievous glint in his ruby red eyes. He chuckled softly, as if your frustration fueled his amusement, his lips curling into his familiar, devilish smirk. 

“Beggars can’t be choosers, kitten. Now, do you want to throw a hissy fit, or do you want to put on a fresh change of clothes?” 

Insane. He was completely deranged for thinking you would go through with this. Resisting the urge to throw the skimpy piece of lingerie in his face, you shot him a look of complete vitriol. A sharp, crass curse hovered on the tip of your tongue, barely restrained as you fought the urge to spit it at him. 

“And what if I refused to do it?” 

As if he anticipated your stubbornness, Sylus snapped his finger and two attendants entered your cell. Taking you by surprise, they stepped forward, grabbing your arms, shockingly strong for two, short women. One of them drags your dress down, ripping a few buttons in the process. The other restrained you with her arms locked around your torso, while her comrade grasped the band of your panties and tugs it off your legs in a fluid motion. 

They brought out a pair of scissors to deal with your bra, cutting through the material as easily as a knife slicing through hot butter. Scraps of lace fluttered to the ground, looking like dead butterfly wings. In the same breath, they tugged the bustier over your head, tightening the ribbons behind your back, ignoring your cry of pain and flailing hands trying to bat them away.

Throughout the entire ordeal, Sylus remained quiet, staring at you with an inscrutable expression you couldn’t read. Was it indifference? Amusement? Something more? You couldn’t tell and his stillness only heightened your discomfort. Meanwhile, the tinier attendant, a brunette with nimble fingers, knelt by your feet and lifted your leg gently, slipping it one-by-one through the crotchless panty holes. 

The cool material slid against your skin as she dragged it up your thighs, adjusting it with practiced ease until it rested snugly on your hips. The sensation of the garment was both unsettling and intimate, made worse by Sylus’s unwavering gaze.

Another snap of his fingers. The attendants disappeared, taking your discarded clothes and destroyed underwear with them.

Sylus took measured strides toward you, hands behind his back. Those crimson eyes flickered over every inch of your body, drinking you in.

“Much better. And you look good in red, my dear.”

The sensation of humiliation ravaged along your skin, settling like a disgusting pit of tar right at the bottom of your stomach.

“What do you want with me?” 

Your whisper drew a smirk on his handsome, but dangerously sharp features.

“Oh, my dear. You have no idea of the things I want to do to you.” 

A dark mist shot out from behind his back, splitting into two tendrils that swiftly wrapped your wrists in its foggy hold. It half-dragged, half-led you towards the bars of your prison, forcing you to your knees. Your hands dangled helplessly through the cold metal, your body contorted painfully into this uncomfortable position the mist held you captive in. Sylus chucked a pillow he took from a hidden pocket of space behind him, nudging it right under your knees. Bound and with no way of fighting him off, your back was arched, body exposed to his sinister will.

A low desk with a piece of paper and pen was set right in front of you by the same mute attendants. The sight of the blank page filled you with an indescribable sense of dread.

Sylus stood over you, his presence looming and intimidating, expression unreadable. His red eyes flickered to the prepared pen and paper. “I want the names you’ve been keeping from me in an hour, sweetie.”

Struggling against your unnatural bonds, you opened your mouth, but stopped when he shot you down with a look.

“And to give you some incentive…”

On cue, the cell door opened and in walked a short doctor with wiry, salt-and-pepper curls. He pushed his horn-rimmed glasses up his nose with one hand, precariously balancing a tray filled with syringes in the other. Knowing what he was about to do to you was terrifying. At least with the blindfold on, you weren’t aware of how thick the needle was, or how the milky fluid in the syringe sloshed around when the doctor tapped on the glass vial. 

Your stomach churned uneasily, a nauseating mix of dread and unease churning inside you. Every muscle in your body was taut with tension, coiled like a spring as you braced yourself for the inevitable. 

The air was thick with tension, growing denser at every step the doctor took towards you. Your breathing came out in ragged, shallow bursts, the misty restraints offering no give no matter how much you tried to recoil away from the approaching syringe.

“Relax now, love,” the older man warned you, trying to keep his leering eyes away from your scantily clad body. “It will hurt if you move too much.”

You had no choice but to succumb to his orders, holding your breath at the inescapable bite of pain in your arm. In a few seconds, the syringe’s contents were emptied into your bloodstream, and within less than a minute, the effects started again.

But, it felt different this time. The pulsating contractions made a spurt of slick trickle down your leg, the overwhelming heat traveling across your body like a contagious rash. Your nipples stiffened underneath the lacy bra cups, popping out almost painfully hard. The blood rushing straight to your clit made it sensitive to the slightest rush of air, your split legs kneeling on the floor exacerbating the vulnerability of your bare and swollen pussy.

“Sylus—”

You gasped, your breath hitching as you shook your head from side to side, as if the motion could dislodge the hazy cloud of lust creeping into the corners of your mind. The warmth pooling within you blurred the lines between resistance and surrender. Your vision wavered, becoming unfocused, as you struggled to keep him in the edges of your sight. But, his presence danced just out of reach, leaving you feeling unmoored, teetering on the brink of losing control.

The sensation of a hard object slipping past your clenched teeth roused the slightest bit of your interest, but with the lust pumping hard in your veins, it wasn’t easy to hone in your focus on anything else.

Sylus forced the hard, rubbery object deeper down your throat, ignoring your heaving chest triggered from your gag reflex. Plunging it in and out of your mouth carelessly, he lubed it up with your spit, and with a flick of his wrist, trailed it down the length of your body teasingly, before slipping it right into your pulsing pussy. 

The toy stretched your muscles, your walls rippling around the rubber conqueror to greedily suck it in; the vibrator sinking down to the hilt effortlessly from the amount of slick you were producing. 

“... a special one, sweetie.” His fingers in your hair brought your attention back to the buzzing between your thighs. But, that wasn’t what caught your full focus—it was the whirring silicone tongue lapping right at your clit which made you flinch, an intoxicated gasp falling from your puffy lips.

“This toy is designed to measure your sweet, little cunt’s contractions and when it senses you’re on the edge…” Sylus trailed off, intentionally stringing along your curiosity until it was hanging by a tenacious thread. “... well, you’ll see,” he finished, standing straighter, admiring the view of you bound, gasping and gyrating your hips as if fucking the thin air.

He had to admit, the sight before him was a wonder, pumping his desire to do unholy things to you.

But, he tightened his hands into fists, knowing he had to put on an air of nonchalant to get what  he needed from you. 

Judging from your broken moans and hitched gasps, his patience might win out soon.

Your hips stuttered, the fuzzy look in your eyes signaling your approaching release. Poor, little Hunter, he thought, a cruel smirk curling on his sculpted lips as your tensed body shook and heaved, hovering right on the precipice of a huge orgasm. As if a switch had been flipped, your entire body slumped forward, knees nearly buckling and bringing you to the floor if it weren’t for his Evol restraints around your wrists keeping you up right through the bars. 

“Aw. Were you close, sweetie?” His saccharine sweet voice dripped with sarcasm. “Tsk, tsk. This little kitten can’t listen, can she? I did say the vibrator could sense your orgasm approaching but did you even attempt to control your urges? No. Of course not. You don’t want to listen to me.” 

His words cut through you with their faux sympathy and you mustered enough anger and dismay to shoot him a terrifying glare.

“Fuck you, Sylus.”

“Oh, you wish, sweetie.” 

He chuckled at your affronted expression, circling closer to your bound body. You tensed when the tip of his shoe touched the innocuously static vibrator still lodged in your pussy, toying with the loose grip.

“Hmm. If this little plastic demon falls out of you, should I be kind and put it back? Or, do I leave you to your vices.”

Deciding in an instant, Sylus chuckled, a smug look on his face as he clasped his hands behind his back, clearly satisfied with what he was about to say. 

“Perhaps an hour with the vibrator might make you change your mind. One can only hope you will find relief, sweetie.” The mock sympathy in his voice left you breathless and disoriented, too stunned to muster an insult fast enough. 

Like a shadow in the night, he disappeared from your view, leaving you to your torment.

It felt like hours of unending torture. Where one cycle of edging began, it left you feeling more unfulfilled when the vibrator denied your pleasure, stopping dead every single time you were poised to fall off the precipice. 

Full body shivers tore through you, the smell of your own arousal burning through your nose. Your thighs began to cramp, the constant onslaught of arousal and edging making your pussy almost numb and sore, the muscles tense from teetering on the edge of a release for the past hour. 

The paper and pen swam in your vision, symbols of both your promised release and your comrades’ death sentence—thoughts you tried to push aside. Despite your best attempts to ignore them, they flit in and out of your consciousness, reminding you of where Sylus’s true displeasure lies. It wasn’t your fault; you were merely collateral in his fight with the other Hunters who had stepped on his toes. 

The vibrator pulsed, massaging your G-spot. Your thighs clamped down, going tense, breathing growing heavier. 

As soon as you hoped the toy would give you relief, the promise was snatched from under your nose—bringing you back to square one. Breathless, sore and full of hot, slick juices which were constantly denied, you finally gave in with a hitched sob. 

The pen shook in your hand, your words shaky and almost illegible. But, you managed to scrawl the names of the Hunters who were involved in the illegal raiding of his armory. Hanging your head forward, you tossed the pen aside like it was venomous, hearing it clatter onto the floor. 

Footsteps resounded around the small cell, mingling with your silent sobs. 

A pair of shiny dress shoes appeared in your vision, calloused fingers tilting your head up to look him right in his red eyes. Sylus thumbed your tears away, an indescribable depth swirling in his gaze, leading you close to the waters for you to drown in. 

But, he severed the tenacious connection with a hollow sigh, withdrawing his hand from your jaw to pick up the paper with the list of names. 

“Good girl.”

Your head dropped back to your chest, a sob rising in the back of your throat. Sylus snapped his fingers and the mists holding your hands hostage melted off, retreating back to him. 

You crumpled to your knees, and blindly groped for the vibrator still stuck in you. Whimpers slipped from your clenched teeth, and you fumbled with the smooth head of the toy, trying to find its switch.

Sylus, who was watching the entire ordeal with an unwavering gaze, chuckled softly, strolling up to you. 

“Need some help, kitten?”

Not waiting for you to respond, he lifted you up into his arms, whisking you out of the cell. Sylus was a few heads taller than you, his brawny build overshadowing your tinier one. It made sense how easily he manhandles you, setting you down on a wide bed, propping you on your hands and knees.

Instead of giving you relief since you had complied with his request, Sylus gripped the edges of the vibrator and slid it out of your clenching cunt, leaving you gasping from the sudden emptiness. 

To your mortification, he dropped the toy to the floor and crushed it under the heel of his dress shoe; a smug grin plastered on his face. Your head lolled limply, as if the exhaustion and frustration had become too much to bear. But underneath the weariness of having every single drop of your pleasure denied, you curled your hands into fists, knuckles pale with tension. Anger surged in your chest, simmering and growing with each shallow breath, threatening to implode as the frustration clawed its way through the fatigue, demanding to be released.

“You… you son of a bitch—”

Sylus didn’t give you a chance to finish your insults. Without warning, the mists shot out from his side, racing to ensnare your limbs; four tendrils holding you open and vulnerable under his darkening gaze. The tendrils lifted you up slightly from the bed, your body hovering over the dark, satin sheets. Sylus padded over to you, reaching to touch the rise of your ass appreciatively.

“You do cut a stunning, submissive figure, kitten.”

The sound of clothes shedding to the floor made you freeze, panic pumping hard in your veins when you felt his calloused hands around your waist. Sylus’s lips touched the nape of your neck, this position offering you little resistance from his advances. Under his careful control, he could shift you around using the mists, like you were a puppet to reposition and possess. 

The trunk of his thick, muscular waist was warm underneath your split thighs, your arms restrained behind your back, the tendrils around your ankles keeping you immobilized and wide open. Sylus clicked his tongue in sympathy when he took in your swollen folds, your puffy clit poking her little, overstimulated head out from the hood.

“Look at your pretty kitty, sweetie. She looks so neglected…” 

His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, and from his command, the mists dragged you close enough for your pelvis to bump his chin. The realization of what he was about to do next shocked you into a loud moan the second you felt his tongue glide through your puffy folds.

Mhm… you taste divine, love.

Such a pretty kitty.

You feel like heaven, my darling. 

His praises flowed freely, each word dripping with reverence, momentarily overshadowing the raw desire simmering under the surface. The hunger in his gaze was undeniable, the act of praising you bringing him as much pleasure as the act of watching you come undone.

Sylus’s large palms wrapped around your waist, guiding your hips. The feel of his tongue massaging your clit, sucking on your folds, drew you deeper into an inescapable ecstasy.

You did the right thing, sweetie, he hummed, voice a low, approving timber. You made the right choice in betraying the Hunters for me. 

Your eyes fell tightly shut, hoping to block out his words. But, you could still hear everything; his ragged breathing, the rustle of his body on the sheets. You could feel his mouth and teeth sucking love bites into your plush thighs, marking you as his for the world to see.

Slick dribbled from your opening in silver strings, dripping onto his chin as he continued to lap and lick your clit.

Sylus knew your body too well. The second he felt your thighs trembling under his touch, he switched up the rhythm, going slower, with light kitten licks on your folds. You groaned, dropping your head, trying to grind your hips to feel more of his tongue. 

Bad kitty, he licked a path from hole to clit, slurping on your juices. Be good and don’t move too much. 

Holy shit. Curses tumbled from your puffy lips, each one escaping in ragged breaths as you fought to keep control. Your nails dug sharply into the soft skin of your palm, leaving crescent-shaped indents as you desperately tried to stave off the cresting release building deep inside of you. 

Every muscle in your body trembled with the effort to hold back, yet the tension only seemed to heighten the intensity of the moment. 

Your pussy trembled, contractions expelling more juices running down his face.

The dark look in his ruby eyes was thrilling, stealing your breath.

“You taste like sin,” his deep voice rumbled against your flush folds, tightening the pit in your belly. You looked ethereal on top of him, hair a mess, cheeks flushed, pussy spread so obscenely open for him.

Sylus took a moment to admire this wet dream come to life, as he trailed his middle finger to your fluttering cunt, sinking the tip of it past the loosening muscle. He didn’t have to exert much effort; your body welcomed him without much resistance—taking in another finger. 

Sinking knuckles deep into you, the pad of his thumb came to rub firm circles on the swell of your clit. Your hips shunted, damp pussy right above his mouth (Sylus wanted to make you cum your brains out until you forget your own name).

He had to take a moment to admire your pretty pussy. Bare. Glistening. All for him. 

Once he was done appreciating her, Sylus snaked his tongue over your clit, replacing his circling thumb. Sucking on the little swollen nub while he continued to pump his two fingers deep inside of you. 

Your cries rebounded around the room, head tossed back to reveal your unmarked neck.

That had to change. And quick. 

Withdrawing his fingers from your damp depths, Sylus slipped it into your mouth, watching with dark eyes as you sucked your own essence off them. The fog of submission had already clouded over your gaze, leaving you pliant under his control. And what he wanted now more than anything was to fuck you senseless.

Using help from the mists, Sylus shifted you lower, your pretty cunt hovering over his cock. 

“I’m going to fuck you now, kitten.” 

Vulnerable and compliant, you found yourself instinctively nodding, ready to agree with anything he wanted without a second thought; lost in the depths of your surrender.

Simmering with pride at how easily you conceded to his words, Sylus grasped the base of his thick girth, slapping the head a few times on your clit. Shallowly dragging his sloppy tip over your folds, he nudged it past your opening. The sight of your quivering cunt slowly sucking him up shot bolts of electricity up his spine. 

You squeezed down perfectly on him—a vice-like grip that drove him delirious.

“Fuck… kitten…”

The room quickly began to fog up from the heat of both your bodies meeting. Driven by lust, the damp squelches rang across the walls, along with your dulcet moans.

Sylus… oh god… oh god… fuck—you feel so good…

Hours of edging and denial left your pussy sore, but you still rode him with zealous delight. The mists had released its grip on your limbs without your realization, but Sylus couldn’t blame you.

The way your hair fell in your face, down to the twist of your lips in a snarl, showed you were too far gone to care.

Bracing your hands on his broad shoulders, you used it as leverage to grind and shunt your hips up and down; spelling out your name on his dick, bouncing on it like you were the one who owned him.

And Sylus was more than happy to give you the reins.

He propped an arm under his head, one hand resting on the swell of your hip, using it to steady you as you rode him in a frenzy. 

Your splayed thighs covered in his hickies brought his attention to your toes scrunching in his periphery. With a lazy flick of his wrist, Sylus dragged down the edges of your bra cups, forcing your breasts to spill past the lacy material. Your nipples tightened instantly under his dark gaze, tingling when he started to pinch and roll them between his thumb and index finger.

Horripilations of shivers wracked your frame, and you whined.

— God… I’m gonna cum. 

Heavy breaths puffed past your parted lips. So close… Sylus… can I…?

“Good girl—you remembered your manners,” he praised, twisting your nipples harder, laughing in his low and smooth baritone when your hips stuttered and you squealed. Knowing you were a hair's breadth away from the biggest release of your life, Sylus gave a lazy nod. 

“Cum, kitten. It’s time for you to finally taste the sweet release.”

But, god, did it hurt. 

Hours of edging had worn the muscles of your lower body down, and your contractions came as painful pulses, each one more stinging and sore than the last.

It was hardly a pleasant experience, and the tears welling up in your eyes was undeniable proof of the discomfort. Each moment seemed to stretch unbearably, and the burning behind your eyes only intensified, leaving no room for pretenses. 

“Agonizing, isn’t it?” Sylus grunted, breathless from how good you were squeezing down on him. 

Poor little kitty, he slurred against your throat, fucking into you from below. Sylus had taken back his control, large hands on your hips forcing you to grind down on him, prolonging your pleasure and pain.

But, you can take it, can’t you? My good girl… my strong, brave, little Hunter.

At the breath of his final praise, the two of you fell off the edge of surrender, spiraling out of control and into each other’s arms. You came together: your body convulsing as waves of pleasure overtook you, while his hot release flooded inside of you, coating your insides with the mark of his claim, each pulse of his cock intensifying the sensation.

You began to shudder uncontrollably, your walls tightening and pulsing around him; the shared climax binding the both of you in a moment of raw intensity, your bodies locked together in the aftermath. 

Sylus caught you in his arms when you slumped forward, cock pushing his cum deeper inside of your trembling, little cunt.

He held you for a long moment, rubbing his hands soothingly across your back—doing his best to ground you back to reality. The fog of submission lifted one breath at a time, as your eyes fluttered open, slick and sweat-coated face breaking out into a smile.

His heart melted at your kind expression, and the shell of his dominance started to crack too, exhaustion evident on his handsome face. Your ears were still ringing from the intensity of your orgasm as you instinctively arched into his touch, seeking the soothing comfort of his gentle hands stroking you back into calmness.

“Was that satisfactory enough to quench your wicked whims, little dove?” Sylus teased, returning to his role as your lover.

You grinned and gave him a shy nod, resting your head on his chest.

“Quite so. The doctor you hired was a very persuasive actor, indeed.”

Sylus snorted, amused by your remark. After all, the man he hired was a retired professional bound by an airtight NDA, ensuring he’d never speak of this again once the scene was over. 

“And the maids? How did you like them?”

You hummed, tracing your finger down the hollow of his chest where the faint outline of a suspicious, unhealed stab wound lingered.

“I quite liked how they weren’t gentle with me. You should give them a small compensation, you know—a gift for how well they performed.”

“You know I’d have to fire them after this, right?” he mused.

You made a face. “Can’t they stay on in our household?” 

Sylus grumbled, tightening his arms around you. “You know what I absolutely find fascinating about you, kitten?” Your raised brows incited him to rush through his words, trying not to give you the wrong idea. “What I meant was, you’re too kind for your own good. They’ve seen you at your most vulnerable and you still think it’s a good idea to keep them around to serve you breakfast?” He snorted. “You’re incorrigible.”

“But, think about it this way,” you argued. “If they stayed with us, they wouldn’t have a reason to spill our secrets to anyone else. Closed mouths are a gold mine in the N109 Zone… or did the person who told me that lied?”

Sylus had to admit, ever since marrying you, your negotiation skills had significantly sharpened.

“Fine. I’ll take your advice this time, Mrs. Qin.” He leaned closer, rubbing his nose against yours. “My wife is far more intelligent and cunning than I ever imagined. Her words are sound and reliable.”

You rolled your eyes at his efforts to butter you up. “Alright, alright. Quit it with the sweet talk.”

He smirked, his expression a mix of playfulness and concern as gently took your hand in his warm grasp. “Are you alright? I didn’t go too hard on you, did I, sweetie?” Despite his layers of muscle and rugged exterior, his voice was soft, laced with genuine care.

The lengths to which Sylus would go for you were immeasurable, each sacrifice a testament to his devotion. 

In that moment, you caught a glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes—an unspoken need for reassurance. A desire to know that despite all you had witnessed, you would still choose to stay with him. The weight of his worry tugged at your heart. 

“I’m fine,” you murmured softly, leaning in to press a tender kiss on his cheek. “I’m always fine when I’m with you.” 

Your words were sincere, wrapping around him like a protective embrace, ensuring him that no matter the darkness you faced whenever you were by his side, your bond would forever remain unbroken.

— comments, feedback and reblogs are appreciated !! your support for my work means the world to me <3

© all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, feed my works to AI and claim them as your own.

[i-yap]

Lex Luthor X reader. Like reader is a sweetheart, she doesn't actually realise what he is doing until she sees Superman

Lex luthor x sweetheart!y/n

yandere themes.

General secretary of the UN, Billionaire, Scientist, Philanthropist, Ceo of a megacompany and a very handsome charismatic man - you thought you hit the jackpot and got a unicorn( except the hair)

He was just so smooth with his words, " You work yourself too hard sweetheart, let me treat you right" he'd say or " Say the word and its yours. Afterall you give me everything I could ever want by being by my side darling" . Its hard not to fall for lex luthor once he sets his sights on you.

And when you see him in his elements, with his wit and sly charm, it could disable countries (literally has). But after a long day of doing stuff you couldn't even keep track of, here he was with you. Raw and relaxed, no facade when it comes to you. Except..well the fact that he is a murderer and a plotter - an evil mastermind. He was a mastermind, you knew that. But he'd twist his words and you'd believe he was doing it for good.

He did always have a way with words. And there is no way he was gonna let his sweetheart, his lover , the only kind loving thing in his life leave him. He thrived on your adoration, the little gleam you were proud and how you'd kiss him on his cheek while grinning when he said something particularly smart.

He had everything planned, you would never find out. He'd marry you, have mastermind kids and keep you with him forever. He had, however not planned for you to see his plans with superman. That was something he could not twist , could not make seem good intentioned.

" You want to kill superman?" "Darling you misunderstand, Im offended you would suggest something this outrageous" 'I SAW THE PLANS LUTHOR, I SAW IT ALL. HOW COULD YOU" "he is evil, superman is too powerful the plan is a "just in case"" "NO STOP LYING TO ME, I SAW THE DATE I SAW THE DETAILS STOP LYING" "y/n listen to me, you are blowing this out of proportion-"" MY FIANCE IS A MURDERER AND IM BLOWING IT OUT OF PROPORTION. I'm leaving luthor..I'm leaving"

As soon as you turn around and wipe the tears from your eyes, luthor is behind you and inject you with a sleep medication.

You don't get to leave, you'll understand..with time at least. He'll make sure of it.

[womendeservehumanity]

Saw this on tumblr but op had their reblogs off. I had to put my two cents in I’m sorryyy. The cognitive dissonance, buzz words, and pure cope so many leftist “feminists” inject in their veins daily in hopes that they’ll find their unicorn man who’s a leftist feminist king who reads theory to her as if most of these leftist men aren’t former alt right edgelords who realized that capitalism harms them because they’re lower class. Completely leaving feminism out of their politics because they still hate women like their 13 year old selves.

Also her saying that speaking on fgm “too much” is a dog whistle for transphobia and and an “alt right pipeline” because it borders too much on the idea that women and girls face sex based oppression. All while using women in the global south as a taking point later on in the video. But no actually you can’t speak on something that disproportionately affects them because it might hurt people with penises feelings because you’re not making it about them all the fucking time.

Also just wanted to show some of the “comrades” that are unsurprisingly endorsing this:

All I can say is LOL

And just a personal gripe… why are so many (white) leftists so egotistical 😭 “revolutionary leftist” who do you think you are my lordddd. Really, truly they’re politically homeless in most facets and just grasp on to general ideas and concepts within leftism to feel intelligent and interesting. Like they don’t actually care about what any of this means and its purpose. it’s just sort of a fun quirk. “Hey I know about these things. I’m on a higher level of consciousness than libs. I am so smart” but don’t actually care all that much about applying it beyond owning people on tiktok.

[sparkleswap]

Well, it would seem the time of reckoning is finally upon us!

I will say, it’s almost unfair that the question falls to me, I just know so much already, that the question will obviously be regarding something I don’t know, rather than something I do that everyone else wants to know as well.

But alas, there’s no time for rumination on such a joyous day! The time of All Hallow’s Eve is nearly upon us, and I’d hate to keep you waiting any longer than I already have. (Still, I can’t say I’m too regretful— the suspense is what makes the payoff all the sweeter, no? Is what makes the horror all the more terrifying.)

I’m sure you already know who I want to ask about. Even after all my theories, even after all my guesses, there is one character in particular who you have been so reluctant to talk about. Really, my friend, you should almost feel ashamed— that kind of secret will drive one insane!

But, no more distractions.

On this blessed day of fear and fright, I ask to you��

What happened to Puppy.

as i devour the sweet treat with fevor, i find my mouth bound to speak.

this is the truth i have, even if it is not the truth you seek...

as simply as is possible from me, this is the answer i keep;

Lovella Puppy has had two very terrible things happen to her medically.

In an attempt to make her holy like the rest of her community, they began injecting unicorn blood into her body. First by feeding, then other means.

When she grew ill from this invasive procedure, her parents realized the obvious solution.

How could a dog's heart process unicorn blood?

...It was not a very professional procedure. They were not skilled. Instead of accepting this failure, as Puppy writhed and gasped for air, they blamed her for not being holy enough to accept this divine gift.

They dragged her to Sparklecare. Gave no explanation. And left, never to return.

(and that, my friend, is how you get a ritual done! i hope you are satisfied with what you got~)

[antonarcana]

Anton, local trans unicorn wizard man, injects himself with gender.

(Image described in alt text)

[sarasade]

Claudia, Viren & The Very Real Parent-Child Dynamics of The Dragon Prince

Sometimes I wonder if I come across like I try to defend Claudia too much. That's not my intent at all. I just think she deserves more and better critique.

The Point I guess

Personally, I really connect with Claudia's brand of messy, unflattering and even pathetic rage and grief much more than the dignified and mature ways Callum and Ezran handle things (More on that later). Maybe this sounds unflattering but Claudia being also kind of an asshole really speaks to me. Like that's the kind of teenage girl I'm the most familiar with and we don't have enough media that has nuanced takes on this sort of troubled character. Exploring negative or even anti-social traits and impulses in fiction, especially in women, is kind of undervalued in my opinion. Those are part of humanity and therefore part of us and this impulse to completely reject them doesn't benefit anyone really.

Finally, some wholesome father-daughter relationship rep in media!

My way to view fantasy media is about how it can artistically portray something true to real life. That's why I'm the most invested in this kind of reading of the text. Fantasy media is often dismissed as mere escapism even by the fantasy fans themselves (*side eyes the dude bro Witcher fandom*) which ignores the emotional depths it can reach by approaching difficult subject matter more metaphorically.

Inject Viren & Claudia's Father-Daughter Dynamic Straight into My Veins

There is something viscerally real about Claudia and Viren's relationship. I've seen this kind of father-daughter dynamic play out in real life many times where the child gives and gives and gives yet the parent takes it all for granted until it's too late and the parent-child relationship is just a mangled corpse of its former self, way too damaged to ever be truly repaired.

Like if you've had a difficult relationship with your parents it can feel similar to how s4-5 Claudia struggles to keep Viren alive while Viren hesitates. The child is the one who tries to fix things in the relationship while the parent is in denial or completely oblivious. Viren doesn't really try to connect with Claudia further in s4-5. It almost seems like he's completely emotionally unprepared to have that conversation and oh boy if you know any boomer parents that's pretty damn realistic. He just sort of gives up and acts completely passive because he's so out of touch with his emotions.

There is also this aspect of your parent aging and then one day you realise that you, the child, are the one who has more power in the relationship. It's a universal experience. These are just some of the ways I can see Viren and Claudia's relationship in seasons 4 and 5 metaphorically portray real life parent-child dynamics. There is a lot of emotional truth to how TDP approaches these relationships even when the story itself is an over the top fantasy romp.

How much Viren relies on Claudia is revealed little by little: She got the unicorn horn for the spell that killed Avizandum, she got the dragon horn that helped them cross the lava to Xadia in s3. It's set up really subtly how there is almost this parentification of Claudia like she's the one who took her mother's place as the emotional center and caregiver of the family after Viren and Lissa divorced. It's a lot of pressure to put one a child to say the least. This extends to Soren and how he is treated as the scapegoat of the family when Claudia is the Golden Child. This sort of treatment of Claudia and Soren by Viren is probably the most common analysis of their family dynamic as far as I can tell.

You ever heard of the thing called "eldest daughter syndrome"?

Eventually Claudia's most admirable and positive traits get corrupted (insert here an analysis of the corruptive nature of the dark magic as a plot device). It's like this perversion of feminine nurturing instinct society values and enforces in girls. Claudia's love is not domesticated but something that's so all consuming it destroys everything in its way. In s 4 she insists Viren has to live. She does everything in her power to keep her family together even against the wishes of her loved ones; first it was healing Soren in and then it was bringing Viren back to life in s3. Claudia has fully internalised her role as the caregiver to the point of self-imposed victimhood.

All The Characters Have a Part to Play

Since TDP is meant for an all-age audience (And later for teens and up since they hiked up the age rating) all the younger characters Callum, Ezran, Rayla, Claudia and Soren collectively represent the kind of different and difficult feelings parental abandonment and neglect can cause. A real person most likely feels all of these emotions at some point of their life but in fiction they need to be spread out among different characters or the story wouldn't work as, well, a story.

"she was a mage girl committing warcrimes, he was an elf boy vibing in the woods, can I make it anymore obvious"

I'd gladly read some more critical takes on Claudia's character. There is something very interesting there about Claudia and Terry's relationship for example. Terry is clearly very enamored with Claudia whom he perceives as someone very vulnerable and in need of help. Terry isn't wrong exactly but it does get problematic when he goes to great lengths to protect Claudia to the detriment of his own wellbeing. While TDP itself doesn't draw attention to it there are also the racial and gendered elements, both implicit and explicit, because of Claudia's fantasy racism and because of Terry being a non-white trans boy character as well. Claudia is the most powerful dark mage in Xadia when Terry is just a normal guy. Given the context of the show there is a power imbalance there.

tHÖ END

Why I'm laying this all out is that I think the Internet would be a better place if people didn't try to constantly find an objective "right" way to view a piece of media but instead were somewhat transparent about what they personally got out of it. I think this Viravos meta is the most popular thing I've written so far and I tried to explain my approach in detail because I don't want people to go "look this person says Viravos is canon!". Jokes are fine of course but taking it too objectively ignores the fact that analysing subtext is valuable on its own.

Idk how to end this. Here, have this meme.

[broncoburro]

Noble Dress in The Tri-Kingdom

Vestur’s three kingships were distinct cultures before the Founding Wars.

They retain many of their cultural features. It’s easy to tell which Kingdom a lord, lady, or viscount is from at a glance.

Middle Kingdom

The Middle Kingdom seeks to emulate gentility and grace of the unicorn (one of the crest animals of their royal family). “Noble” colors like pastels are common, and gold is essentially a requirement. Vestur values battle culturally, but years of safety and excess means military influence has been essentially sanded off of attire, save like... ornamental epaulets.

Modesty is a must - having any skin showing below the neck is VULGAR and CRASS. Ideally your scarf or cravat should cover that, too.

Tasteful gold jewelry is appreciated. Hair is kept long - usually dreads or braids.

Wear for men means stockings and highly embroidered frock coats. Heel-length dresses for women and highly ornamental sleeves! Other accessories like a capelet or jacket are also encouraged.

Northern Kingdom

There is a limit to how impractical dress can be in the North, and so this makes Northern nobility look quite out of place compared to the high fashion of the Middle and South.

Few dyes in the unforgiving and icy Wasteland means ornamentation is strictly through feathers or embroidery. If you can manage color, it’s saved for an especially flashy accessory - like a cape or hat. Jewelry is minimal since it is cold against the skin. Hair is kept short, usually - though women may wear it longer if they like a Middle Kingdom flair.

Formerly a nomadic culture right up until annexation, dress is much less gender-segregated because Northerners didn’t historically have different clothing for men and women. However, Middle Kingdom influence means difference has been injected in. Women wear pant-skirts as a compromise... though if nobody from another Kingdom is looking, they’ll just wear a pair of breeches.

There are less nobles from the North over all simply because there is less workable land to lord over and maintain, so many end up in the King’s Army. This has lent a heavy military styling to their dress.

Cultural holdovers from their nomadic roots include: spurred riding boots, the ornamental feathers, largely black color scheme, and the use of hats. However, anything resembling their heritage is seen as gauche by the middle kingdom... so you see less fur and wide-brimmed hats than their commoner counterparts.

Southern Kingdom

The Southern Kingdom is rather unique, as in addition to having a defined territory, it maintains many other trading enclaves throughout Vestur’s peninsula. (Dress would look very different for a Southern enclave within the Northern Kingdom for example, but I won’t get too in the weeds there.)

The Southern Kingdom is a culture deeply invested in trade and mercantilism, and so are essentially teeming with exotic textiles, dyes, precious metals and rocks... you name it.

As a result they have the most elaborate dress. Capes, sashes, loose-hanging and billowing cloth of all colors is the pinnacle of beauty.  The more colors, the better - you had just best make sure they are coordinated.

Ideally too, you should wear enough jewelry to jingle when you walk. Especially if made of gold or especially rare gemstones.

The coastal South has held onto more of their unique dress sense than any of their enclave territories, or the North. They don't feel as much need to pander to the Middle Kingdom sensibilities because they were already a thriving country before teaming up with the Middle Kingdom. Joining with the Middle Kingdom was seen as a union of equals by the South, rather than a conquering by a superior political power like what happened with the North.

The hot weather of their territory means they show much more skin than the other kingdoms... in fact, the advent of breeches and shifts is relatively new, and only because the Middle Kingdom was so scandalized by their pantslessness and bare chests.

(A shout out to @lsdoiphin since Forever Gold’s worldbuilding is a collaboration between her and I!)

[barbwritesstuff]

Sort of teary eyed by the update. First of all, I'm happy for you!!! 🎉 I'm so glad and I hope even more people buy BM and your other projects down the line. You and many others are doing things that I love seeing in this world, and I think we need more weirdness and found family in these trying times.

I consider myself a failed writer, not that I ever submitted anything, but my own insecurities and struggles with mental health have held me back from going full in... So I'm living vicariously through y'all and I'm cheering you from the sidelines~

📢💕💖🫶

I'm just going to write how I'm feeling right now and hope it makes sense.

We're human. We evolved this big, lumpy brain so we can inject as much weirdness, fun, and wonder into our lives as possible. I try very hard to do it with my writing and I'm so glad when I hear that someone found joy in what I created. That is, ultimately, why I do it. To connect with other people.

As a culture, we tend to be really obsessed with a very particular kind of success. In writing land, that is usually the 20-something year old author who makes hundreds of thousands on their debut novel and never looks back. But, there are many ways to be 'successful' as a writer. If you want to write again, you don't have to be like those unicorns to be successful.

I'm building my writing portfolio brick by brick, and I'm very much not expecting a breakout hit. I'm happy that more people are finding my writing than ever before, and hope that one day I can make enough to do it full time, but that's my only real goal. You can set any goals, and those goals can shift and change as they need to... which means you don't need to consider yourself a failure just because you're not a big, famous writer. The fact that you wrote is enough to make you a success, even if you never write again.

Thanks so much for sending this message, anon. And thank you for your support. It really means a lot. 💙

[crackrodent]

Check out the rest of my Flufftober library!

Pillow Talk

Baxter tiptoed down the hall of the hotel. This was a bad idea. He knew it. If anyone knew, he would be cannibal town lunch meat by tomorrow afternoon. Keeping a secret from Him? Fatal.

Especially when it was about Her.

Alastor and Niffty were almost the same age, so his parental urges over her were absurd. She was a grown woman when she died, and she's one now. His and Niffty's nightly activities should be none of his business. If not for the cyan anchor tying himself to Vox, he would say it wasn't. He hated that he needed Alastor to keep looking out for her. He hated that he couldn't be man enough to keep his Niffty safe on his own.

He heard the sounds of lovemaking from the spider’s room and recognized the voice of the bartender speaking sweet nothings to his lover.

Husk and Angel playing the brotherly roles was less terrifying, but it still made him shake with fear when they entered his lab while he and Niffty were working. They had made the same habit of opening the door and just standing there. They stared at him as if he planned to wrong the woman.

Baxter never wanted to wrong her. He wanted everything to be right. He saw a wedding. His black hair was soft and combed appropriately. Her red hair under the white veil would give off a pink hue matching the flower petals on the ground. Her cheeks would blush for a moment when the priest would tell him to kiss the bride before she would fling her arms around him and unite their lips in holy matrimony.

He stood outside her door now. He tried to calm his racing thoughts before creaking the door open. Niffty sat on her bed in her nightgown waiting for him. It was the same every night. Nothing ever changes.

She patted his side of her bed and he closed and locked the door behind him. It wouldn't matter really. What's some lock to an overlord? He crawled into bed and pulled the covers over both of them.

Niffty placed her head on his chest and it started.

"Could we make a real unicorn in the lab?" Niffty had been on a weird animal kick lately.

"I suppose if we found a proper horse specimen and injected a modified either a narwhal or rhino horn DNA segment into the specimen, it would be feasible." He knew his wording could be a bit off. It had been a long day. Charlie's random act of kindness lesson was a fucking nightmare even by hell's standards.

"Would it be friendly or a bad boy?" Her hand was right over his heart, he was sure she felt the way his heart raced when she asked if he would be a bad boy.

"If we did our work right, we could successfully engineer the unicorns for anything, dear" He planted a kiss on the top of her head, "If you want an army of stabby, murder horses I would make them for you."

Her sinister little giggle made his chest shake and his breathing unsteady. She was worth the ache in his lungs from the inadequate oxygen. She was the perfect crazy maid to his mad scientist. He would find a way to do anything for her.

"What about ducks?" Her voice was a peppy hum, clearly today had been long for her as well.

With a yawn, Baxter nudge her to finish her question, "What about them?"

"Why do the quack so much?"

"That's just how they talk Niffty." A valid point but not much for an answer. He knew that.

"They never stop." She moved her head to get a better look at his face, “Why?”

"Well, it's just like how Charlie and Lucifer both talk a lot. Some things just do." I mean, maybe his whole duck thing was making sense.

Niffty moved her head back so all he could see was the back of her head, "Do I talk a lot?"

Baxter had feared a lot about his relationship with Niffty, but he had not anticipated her throwing landmines at his feet while simultaneously snuggling her face against his chest. As her hand explored his abdomen, he raced through the safest way to answer.

He landed on the truth.

"I wish you talked more. Not just when you are happy or sad or excited. I want to know your most basic knives. I want to know what songs you would tune out when you were alive. I want to know what chores you find boring. I want to hear your thoughts when you are bored. I want.."

Everything.

A home with brown and yellow furniture.

Quiet afternoons gossiping about the neighbors.

Helping her fold laundry.

Dreadful dinner parties they would be forced to attend.

Coming home from a 9-5 and surprising her with a flower from their garden.

Taking down Christmas decorations with her.

A yellow lab named Bud and a tabby cat named Missy.

Debating beige or off-white paint for the guest bathroom.

He knows no matter how boring life together could have been, she would have made it fun.

"I want you Niffty. Always. I never want to not hear your voice."

Niffty was drawing shapes on his chest with her thin pointer finger. The silence was longer than he

"You’re too much of a good boy, Baxter but I think I love you."

"I think I love you too."

Niffty went quiet again, and soon he could feel her breathing slow and steady itself out. Her hand now limp and hanging off to his other side. The small drops of drool will drive Niffty mad in the morning.

For now, all was well. They belonged to the arms of each other and no one else. No Alastor, No Vox, No god or unholy force.

They are just two insane sinners who both know more than they let on.

[grapehyasynth]

Off Menu Tag

tagged by @genetic-lottery-unicorn - thank you!

You're in the dream restaurant and a genie waiter is ready to take your dream meal order:

Where does your dream meal take place? Definitely outside. All the best meals happen outside. It should be warm and green. Maybe there's some running water nearby, and/or a nice view.

Still or sparkling water? Sparkling. Inject that into my veins. I'd drink it from waking to sleeping if it weren't cost-prohibitive.

POPPADOMS OR BREAD? Bread! Love a variety bread basket

Dream starter: I guess since this is my dream restaurant I don't really HAVE to choose just one. But my mind immediately goes to cheese-stuffed fried squash blossoms that I had somewhere in Germany in, hmm, I want to say 2010? WAIT I GOT IT how could i forget my beloved fried plantainsssssss.

Dream main course: Why was my first thought pizza? That's so lame. Maybe, like, endless pizza that you can eat and fully enjoy without getting full? I don't feel like I have a favorite main... Maybe because I live in an area with bad restaurants so I have lost my imagination.... Oooh maybe a really good vegan döner from that one place in Berlin.

Dream side dish: My mom's green salad. I make salads all the time and just never feel like I'll capture the effortless perfection of her dash of this, dash of that dressing.

Dream drink: iced Thai tea or frozen hot chocolate

Dream dessert: Soooo difficult. Maybe brownies. Or ice cream cake. There will be chocolate involved, that's for sure.

Tagging some folks: @piebingo @norskheks @stygianirondiangelo @theaviatorthatcouldnotfly @swearphil @roamingbadger