#why do i keep thinking it's a ballad and not the ballad

[gods-favorite-autistic]

Hey yall im back with Fig and the Cig Figs professionally produced Freshman year album (formally known as Detention) track list:

Detention

Bad Kid

Dragonslayer

Sk8er Gurl (yes it is basically just a fantasy version of Sk8er Boy by Avril Lavigne)

Burn Towns Get Money

Pit Fiend

Corn Cuties

Disguise Self

Closed Book

Infodump

Seven Maidens

Every Album Needs A Bonus Track (yes that is the name of the song)

Here’s the Junior Year Track List in case you wanna see it!

[abunchleoftadishes]

Watching all the hunger games movies again because the prequel came out, and now I'm bawling my eyes out because of everything in the story. Fucking help 😭

[thestarsaresapphic]

tbosas stage adaptation when????

[theburialofstrawberries]

I think rockstar lestat would be flying to dubai all the time to have amazing "yeah we're exes of 77 years keep scrolling" sex with louis and he'd looove that a twitter account was tracking his private jet use. He'd be like Mon cherie, do you see....they call me the enemy of the sans-culottes, they say I am scorching this blue marble to cinders, but they have no idea...louis I wear my kilométer count as I wear my heart on my sleeve, every flight path leads to you, mon ange....you have heard that crass ballad about mademoiselle delilah, non? yet it captures avec précision the mind of a crazed lover who, if no transportation were available, would walk to his beloved upon foot....look at my pedicured feet, louis....if there was no d'assault f'alcon, no etihad nor emirates, no jet bleu, why....I would ruin these feet for you....

[mouseoho]

i knew i shouldntve started watching q/ueendom puzzle im already annoyed

[chiscaralight]

Scaramouche x fatui! Harbinger reaader and reader is a higher rank than him.. Ive seen this a couple times before and it has me soaked everytime.

hehehehehhe nsfw balladeer!scara x reader. feels like i havent written for my stink in years. slight degradation?

this should be so embarrassing—it shouldn't even be happening. but why does it feel so good if it wasn't meant to be? why do you constantly find yourself wandering into his chambers in the dead of night so he can have his way with you? or more importantly, why was it so important today that you couldn't even wait for the moon to rise?

the reason will remain unknown to you, but the balladeer remains the answer. your front is pressed flat against his desk, bottom half completely exposed as he pounds into you with that sinister smile you don't even have to look back to see. shit, you're a higher rank than him, you should be the one bending him over! but with the way his cold fingers are pressing against the fat of your hips, dragging your body back into his as he hits that spot that makes you cry out his name with each thrust.

his speed is dizzying, and his grip on your hair is inhumane. the balladeer's lips are mere centimeters away from your ears, sickly spitting about how stupid you look going dumb on his cock. you're quick to oppose him in meetings and speak out on almost everything he lays down. but you take every single thrust he gives like it was your only purpose. such a big, bad harbinger like you getting their brain fucked out by someone lower ranked, what would your subordinates think, hm?

but his words hold no weight to you once his mouth finds your neck because you're already writhing from the pleasure of the bites he's adorning you with. he's freeing one of his hands to stretch it down, barely bumping his nimble fingers against your clit. your hand is flying towards his, desperately trying to get more touch out of him, but he only laughs. the fact you think you have any sort of power here is so amusing; pitiful actually.

"m-my lord! i was told to deliver some documents to you from Childe."

the voice behind the door is muffled by the thick wood, but the words are loud and clear. your eyes widen at the thought of seeing you like this, but the balladeer is faster. your face is being pressed into the material of his desk as his eyes meet yours and his voice is a low whisper.

"aww, are you scared of your subordinates seeing you so useless? what if I was to let him in and see you like this?"

you're not sure if the tears welling in your eyes are from how sensitive you're getting or the reputation riding on your head was about to be damaged, but the silent plea of your eyes is enough for him to barely bite back a smile. pure fear, that's one thing he doesn't get to see so much from you. so in exchange for this euphoric feeling you've given him, he'll spare you just this once.

"bring them back tomorrow. i'm busy."

"but my lord, the eleventh-"

"will the eleventh bring you back to life once i rid your body of life?"

"i-i will be back tomorrow, my lord."

the padding away of feet has your mouth opening in a relieved breath. but you're more concerned about why the man behind you has stilled his movements.

the balladeer is more than convinced that since he helped you such a great amount, you owe him something—a show. which is why he's leaned back on the large seat in his office with you completely bare, bouncing on him like some cheap whore. you're not sure what's more humiliating; the fact that he's still practically fully clothed or the shameless staring at you. eyes raking over your body as you move on top of him. your nails are digging into the fabric resting on his shoulders for balance, but the way his hands are holding your waist is more than enough to keep you in place.

but you are much too slow for his liking today, and he wants to pump you full as much as possible, as soon as possible. so he's almost throwing you down, pushing your leg up, and sliding back in with ease. his kiss is as harsh as he is, full of moans and tongues clashing, but it only fuels that heat in your belly as he picks up his pace. you're whining about how you need to cum, begging pathetically for your release. the only answer you get is rough circles to your clit once again as your eyes roll back, noises being silenced by the balladeer's other free hand pressing against your mouth. after all the stupid crying you do, you do absolutely nothing to actually try to shut the slightest bit up from your orgasm, so annoying.

he'll shake you awake, then tell you to fuck off from his office. you'll redress in silence and head for the door, but hell stop you just before you leave. before you can question, his lips are hot on yours once again, pressing your back against the wood as you slide your hands into his hair. you can swear you hear him groan as you grind your hips forward, but he'll pull back regardless. his fingers will adjust the collar of your shirt you can never seem to get right, then usher you out once the large hall is clear. he'll stare at the spot you just left, eyes practically burning holes in the carpet with a strong scowl on his face. he can still feel your skin against yours and it pisses him off. he misses it.

[damfangirl08]

In my brain, this is how old everyone in the chain is:

Time: physically about 30 but he has lived anywhere between 50 and 500 years, nobody knows, not even him. Usually just answers with "ask malon" if questioned.

Warriors: 26, says 24 if someone asks, because he genuinly keeps forgetting

Sky: actually 24, but answers in loftwing years just to be a menace when someone asks

Twillight: 20, sometimes messes up and says how old he is in wolf years because Midna used to tease him by doing that and he is an angsty boy.

Four: 19. If you ask any more questions you get stabbed.

Wild: 17. Says 117 if asked. Does not elaborate. He told Aurora why once and now Aurora does the same thing. Hyrule is going insane and Twilight has gone insane ages ago

Hyrule: 16. He thinks. Hes not actually sure but that is what his Zeldas said so thats what hes going with(i forgot to write him in im so sorry my boy)

Legend: 14/15. If asked he says 19. He pretends to be an adult and people somehow belive him. At this point he is just praying the rest of the chain never meet Fable, Myth or Ballad

Wind: 14/15 too. Answers with his actual age like a normal person wtf is wrong with you people

Bonus:

Myth and Ballad(troforce heroes) are both 17. They bully Legend a lot.

Fable is Legend's twin and also bullies him a lot.

The rest of the Zeldas are the same age as their Links, but if you meet Tetra you will know she is 2 months older than Wind.

When asked how old Time is, Malon will say he is "as old as time". She finds this funny. So does Time. The only other person to find it funny is Hyrule.

If you ask Ravio how old Legend is, he will, no matter the circumstance, say he is 13. Legend has to be restrained to avoid any casualties.

[pha55ed]

I'm Stuck Forever By the Glue || F1

type :: fluff tw/cw :: none contains :: carlos, charles, lando, oscar, lewis summary :: sweet little things they do for you, because i lov fluff - inspo: glue song by beabadoobee

f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist || more here!

Carlos Sainz | 55

Although it's cheesy, Carlos loves you buy you flowers. All types of flowers in different colors, not just the same basic bouquet of roses over and over again. He even goes as far to research the meaning of a few flowers and then ask the florist to center the bouquet around that specific flower. He loves sending the flowers to your work, your house, or gifting them himself to you. Seeing your reaction and how your smile slowly forms from the flowers never gets old from him. If he could, he would plant an entire acre of flowers just to keep you smiling.

Charles Leclerc | 16

Music is surprisingly a pretty big inspiration in Charles life, it helps him during his toughest moments and happiest times. So it's no question that he has to dedicate something related to music to you: hence his pre-race ritual is to listen to a custom playlist he made. The playlist is filled with songs that remind him of you, from cheesy love songs, slow ballads, or even stupid joke songs. It doesn't matter, because it reminds him of you, his number #1 supporter.

Lando Norris | 04

This mf acts like he's going to war, but it's cute so you'll give him a pass. Despite it being against the FIA rules, he doesn't care, it's only against the rules if they find out. But, he has a small little photo of you that he put on his F1's car dashboard. It's small and hidden from his overhead camera, but it's in a perfect little spot for him to look at it while checking his gas and speed. He's so glad he has his helmet on, because every time he looks at that photo, he can't help but gush and smile. Once the race ends, he sneakily takes it off and puts it into his pocket. And then when it's race day again, he puts it back on with some tape. It's so DIY but who cares, he loves his girlfriend :))

Oscar Piastri | 81

Although he's not super up to date with recent trends, the second he saw this trend he couldn't help but join: the "I love my girlfriend" shirt trend. But the only issue is, he didn't want to buy it himself, he wanted YOU to gift it to him. Just like how girls want flowers but don't want to ask for flowers. So for weeks on end, he would subtly send you memes about it, how he thinks it's sooooo ugly and sooooo stupid (he's lying out of his ass). But once you gift him the "I love my girlfriend" shirt, he's wearing it nonstop. To bed, to the gym, to practice, fucking everywhere. He's like those nasty toddlers who bring their musty ass plushie everyone. But you can't help but smile every time he wears it, he's just so happy with it on. Not to mention you got him a small,,, in black,,,, so it's BASICALLY like a muscle tee... drooling omfg.

Lewis Hamilton | 44

Fashion is something Lewis is famous for, and there's no question as to why. He's one of the only people who serve cunt when it's race day, you'd think he's the owner of F1 because of how fancy he is. So, when you asked him to play Dress To Impress with you, he didn't even hesitate to join. He loves playing it with you, even playing on his own to grind for stars and money. But the only con is,,, he eats you the fuck up. Like, I'm not even joking... He bought VIP, custom makeup, ANDDDDD speed walking. Not only that, he knows how to layer his shit, add patterns, and even practices poses beforehand. But one of the cons of playing with him,,, if he doesn't win first he's such a baby.

"Did I not eat???? How tf did a faceless win?" "I dunno, baby." "Let's join a different server, they're rigging it."

f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist || more here!

[inklessletter]

The first time Steve hears Eddie singing that song, it's nothing but a absent-minded humming while he's doing something else. Writing something down, he thinks, for the campaign, probably.

Steve knows that song, that's why he smiled when he heard the soft, muffled tone falling out of Eddie's throat. Steve's heard Will singing it, and it's so painfully Jonathan, that song wears his signature all over. Maybe it's because it's The Smiths, and The Smiths is Jonathan.

Steve holds a smile and keeps himself busy, away from Eddie's eyes, because of course, that's what he does. No need to cause a scene, he could go on with his day without Eddie asking him "why are you smiling like an airhead?" Nah, thank you very much.

It's not his music scene, but Steve admits that it has been a favourite since it came out. It was just so goddamn relatable. He first heard it when Nancy dumped him, and sometimes, when he was working at Scoops, he could hear that song coming from the rock station Robin liked, coming from the backroom. No surprise she likes that song too.

Those were dark times for him. Summer job at Scoops, that is. It was a disappointment after another; no university, no high school anymore, no girlfriend, no status to hide after, no friends but the kids he drove all around Hawkins (and yet, three weeks away from Dustin, who was the only one who actually went to see him without asking for anything in return), the most embarrassing dry spell and having absolutely zero idea of what to do next. And that song just randomly filled the air and he indulged himself for two minutes to sulk on his own misery and he felt surprisingly less depressed right after.

So, yeah, that song holds a special meaning for him, a soothing balm for his broken heart, a good nostalgia from his darkest period.

And it comes back to him, from Eddie's voice, and it comes to stay the rest of the day. The rest of the week.

It makes him sad. A good sad, Steve guesses.

He's not really better than a couple years ago, but he's less scared, which is undeniably a victory.

He lets out a sigh and walks away from Eddie, leaves him there, happy and focused and begging.

Steve comes to notice that Eddie sings that song a lot, and he's making it his business not to ask, not to sing along, not to say or do anything that may reveal that Eddie's version of that song is becoming so fast the best he's ever heard.

The day the older side of the group go to see him play with his band, and at some point, he just sits and grabs an acoustic guitar and sings it, that one song, the world turns around. It's hard to keep a straight face, and to breathe regularly. A prayer, a begging in form of ballad, the room is in respectful silence, or if there is any background noise his brain makes the greatest job ignoring it.

Feels Robin's hand slipping through his palm and lacing fingers, but he doesn't look at her.

He can't.

His lips, disloyal and treacherous bastards, shape the last sentence of the song.

Lord knows it would be the first time.

The last chord fills the negative space and the bar noises are there again out of the sudden, and some of his friends are shouting nice things, and Eddie is graciously discarding the acoustic guitar and grabbing his sweetheart again and Steve is hoping to go unnoticed when he wipes his face in a quick movement.

He knows Robin sees it, but she says nothing, merciful and elegant.

The gig goes on for a couple of more songs and it's far too soon when Eddie is there, letting himself fall on the stool next to him, all pleased and content and full of black smudged eyeliner and Steve knows he has to say something to him, so he opts to go with, "I really like that song."

It doesn't need any more saying, because Eddie grins and fucking bites his bottom lip, and looks at the floor like it's the most interesting thing in the world, leaning on the bar next to Steve, and Steve knows, he just knows Eddie knows which one he's talking about.

"Yeah. I bet you do."

He doesn't tease, doesn't go with the rancid bUt YoU lIsTeN tO tEaRs FoR fEaRs In YoUr CaR aLl tHe tImEeE shit like the kids like to whine. He doesn't pretend not to know which one he's talking about. Steve smiles at him, buys the guy a beer.

"So, Robin told you? About, uh, about the song."

He tries a bit too hard to look unaffected, but the label of his cold beer bottle has seen better days. Steve feels Eddie going still and turning his head to face him, wielding such soft, almost pitiful expression that makes Steve's inside go still, lungs not working, muscles tense, blood frozen in his veins, and somehow scalding in his cheeks. He dares to look at Eddie, who whispers, "She did not."

The time stops, or so Steve thinks, when he turns his head to look at Eddie, not really moving an inch.

The question goes unspoken.

The answer is one second too long of both their gazes taking residence in the other guy's lips.

And the song comes alive in Steve's mind, and his lips move again.

So for once in my life

let me get what I want

Lord knows, it would be the first time

[ventismacchiato]

41 behind the lens — truth or drink !

scaramouche x g!n reader

you and scara get asked to go on the youtube talk show ‘truth or drink’, where you ask eachother a series of questions. if one of you decides not to answer you must take a shot instead.

welcome to truth or drink! celebrity couples will ask each other a set of random questions. they can either answer the question or take a shot!

Scara immediately starts pouring himself a shot.

You: we haven’t even started yet!

how long have you both been together?

Scara: about five years

You: five long years

Scara: go fuck yourself?

how did you both get together? did you two secretly pretend to hate each other online? everyone is dying to know!

You start reaching for the bottle but Scara yanks it away from you.

Scara: go on, answer it baby

You: do i have to?

Scara: if you don’t then i will

You: fine. basically i fell for scara before i knew he was a popular streamer, he was just a classmate from my photography class. the day after our first date is when i found out he was the balladeer.

Scara: and you continued to date me and not tell me you were my mortal enemy!

You: he’s still petty about this as you can see

when did he find out you were stardust?

You: a month later i think? after we went to paris for twitch con?

Scara: i need a drink just listening to this

worst thing you both experienced after doing your face reveal years ago?

Scara: no more alone time, i couldn’t even go for a walk without people recognizing me

You: also college was so weird after, i remember professors would play my videos after and ask if that was me. like obviously it is?

Scara: also so many photos, couldn’t even go to a public bathroom without people trying to photograph my dick

You: thankfully it’s died down since then

how often do you guys have sex?

Scara: it used to be every other day

You: but then we got real people jobs like acting and directing and now it’s less

Scara: a shame

most public place you’ve have sex?

You and Scara both share a look.

You: okay, i’ll divulge one place that’s not too bad. his trailer on his most recent project

Scara silently takes a shot.

have you ever considered breaking up?

This time it’s your turn to take the bottle away from Scara.

Scara: i wasn’t serious about it, but i have thought about it

You: tell them how many times

Scara: not my fault i have commitment issues!

have you ever cheated on one another?

Scara: they cheated on me with my alter ego

You: I TOLD YOU EVENTUALLY DIDN’T I?

what’s something about eachother the media wouldn’t believe?

You: he is so clingy, but it’s so cute

Scara: i am not

You: you’re literally playing with my foot right now

Scara: fuck off, and nobody would believe how kinky you are

You: i think you mean how kinky you are

Scara: and you’re into it so what does that say about you?

You: pour me a shot

how many sexual partners have you had?

Scara stares off to the side to count in his head.

Scara: 20?

You: the way you don’t even know

Scara: before you i just had a lot of one night stands, i was a whore

You: you still are

Scara: you’re into it

You: …unlike him i will be taking a shot for this one

have you talked about marriage?

You: tell them what you told me

Scara: marriage is a social construct, why do i have to host a big event and get down on one knee to prove i want to be with someone for the rest of my life? yn already knows i love them and now i have to get a ring and do paperwork too? society sucks

You: he’s insane, but we have talked about it

Scara: they will be proposing though

You: he’s such a princess

if you were allowed one pass, who would you sleep with?

You: wait, out of people we know?

Scara: Hm…say it on three

You: okay…1…2…3

You and Scara: Kazuha

Scara: honestly, i think he and Heizou would be down

something romantic your partner does?

You: honestly he has a lot…a recent one i found out about was when Scara buys me flowers he always keeps one for himself, so when it dies he knows when to get me a new bouquet

Scara: okay

You: awe look, he’s all shy now

how many kids do you both want if any?

Scara: i like kids but i want zero of my own

You: he compared it to a dog

Scara: that makes me sound bad! i said it’s like a dog because other people’s dogs are cute but if i had my own i would accidentally kill it

You: my blood line ends with me

if your partner was in a coma, how long would you wait for them?

Scara: a good year, maybe two if i feel like it

You: THAT’S IT?

Scara: …yeah?

You: offended you won’t wait an eternity for me and never fall in love again

Scara: my water bill will finally be normal again without you

You: such a romantic you are

how often do you two get into arguments? and what about?

You: not as much as we used to, we’re better at finding solutions and communicating

Scara: it’s usually about how busy we are due to work

You: yeah sometimes we go weeks without seeing eachother and it makes him cranky

Scara: one time they ran towards me at an airport

You: it was romantic!

Scara: i had to drop my coffee to catch you

something about marriage that scares you?

Scara pours himself a shot.

You: hey, tell me!

Scara: no thanks

You: Please?

Scara: …fine. just scared you’ll get bored eventually or realize i’m not the one

You: i’ll ever get bored of you!

Scara: we’ll see

has anyone flirted with you during a project? any fellow actors or directors?

You: sometimes people hit on him right in front of me

Scara: you’re no better, people hit on you more. literally just last week—[censored]

You: can you guys bleep that so nobody loses their job!

first impression of each other?

You: i thought he was the cutest boy in class

Scara: you’re fun to listen to

You: i talked a lot during our college days didn’t i?

Scara: you still do

You: wow…

Scara: didnt say i disliked it, idiot

one thing you would change about the other?

Scara: nothing

You: okay i feel bad about my answer

Scara: fuck you?

You: i was going to say i wish you were less of a workaholic!

Scara: i can try

how do your parents feel about your relationship?

Scara: thanks for watching, make sure to like and subscribe and comment down below-

You: sore topic as you can see

last one before we let you two go, something you love about eachother?

You: he’s going to take a shot

Scara slowly puts the bottle back down.

You: told ya

Scara: theres so many fucking people watching me right now

You: fine, i’ll go first. i like how he shows his love for me in different ways like a lot of people think hes really cold but once he gets comfortable he can be the loudest and sweetest person in the room

Scara: thanks i guess

You: look how red he is

Scara: do you want to die?

You: okay, my turn!

Scara: i like…how you make me feel safe

You: you’re so cute

Scara: die

You: i love you too

behind the lens !

masterlist — prev | next

author’s notes — i thought this wud be silly so hope u enjoyed 🙏 almost free 😭😭

synopsis — you, better known as STARDUST, and BALLADEER have always been in competition for the top streamer spot on twitch, which is especially impressive since the two of you have never shown your faces. you’ve never been on good terms, constantly one-upping each other in matches and getting into petty arguments on twitter, causing your fans to also dislike each other. that’s until BALLADEER does a face reveal that breaks the internet with his good looks…which makes you realize it’s the same guy you went on a date with last night. the type of date that made you crave to see him again. the only problem was he didn’t know you were STARDUST and he was way different behind the lens than he portrayed himself online to you. should you keep your identity a secret to salvage the relationship or just let him go?

taglist is closed — @captainzep @elysiumarchieve @plinkuro @sakkakuu-squared @eliqusgenma @vuvulia @kunikuzushiit @ins4nebish @stxrgxzxr @lilacponds @uma-umie @mitsukifilms @caesars-bubbles @wheneverthesunrise @its-like-twilight @kazuhalvrr @erosdevil @thenightsflower @p1utto @noodleshark420 @lxry-chxn @court-jester-stuff @lauragalliart @veyu002 @kaeyas-eyepatch-69 @leathernourishingshoepolish @courtneydefender @drunkwithfever @exhaustedcommunist @vincanzu @ainlaw @ovaliz @kitsuvil @whatamidoing89 @celestair @kunihaver @kazioli @xiaosoneandonly @cridtiins @cherrybeomgyu @asukahiriko @moon-320 @orionicchaos @cartierfiles [1/3]

[cy-lindric]

bonjour cy-lindric, j'ai une petite question. when I was a young person, I read The Three Musketeers and then eagerly started to read Twenty Years After and was so upset at what had happened to my beloved young heroes that I put the book down and never picked it up. what do you think, should I try again?

Bonjour !

After reading The Three Musketeers, I also wasn't sure I wanted to read Twenty Years After, and I took a break inbetween both to read something entirely different (The Locked Tomb, iirc). I think my reason for that was kind of the opposite of yours ; I enjoyed T3M a lot and loved the characters, flaws and all, but by the end they had somewhat crossed over the line into being Too Awful and the lack of retribution left me a bit frustrated. I didn't see it as a failing of the story - on the contrary, their strong character flaws and downfall in the conflict with Milady is one of the most emotionally intense and compelling parts imo - but I wasn't sure I felt like hanging out with these guys for a few hundred more pages at that point.

If your vision of the characters as a young reader was a very positive and perhaps idealized one, I can imagine why you might not have enjoyed entering into Twenty Years after. The illusion of glory has worn off ; the characters have separated, they live unremarkable lives, and their personalities have evolved drastically with the passing of time. It's almost a brutal return to reality.

For me though, it added layers of characterization to the point where now it's clear to me that this version of the Inseparables is by far the one I prefer.

I hope it's ok if I take the opportunity to talk at length about what I like about TYA below the cut. TL;DR : I love that Twenty Years After is a more realistic look at the big four's personalities and how they evolved while still keeping them thematically coherent, and that TYA makes them confront the reckless and cruel shit they did in their youth.

Spoilers ahead obviously.

We've often talked about how T3M is at its core a story about the end of knighthood. It's a tongue-in-cheek approach at chivalrous initiation, set at edge of the modern world, inbetween the time of ballads about knights in armor and that of adventures about journeying gunmen and soldiers. I think TYA embodies that particularly ; the story of people who have carried the last of these intense, dangerous chivalric ideals in their youths, and who have now grown into middle aged adults who need to find their place in the world.

For a good chunk of the book, the big four are separated into two teams ; that in of itself might discourage some, but imo it's genius. Instead of the natural two-by-pairings, Dumas goes for a d'Artagnan+ Porthos and Athos + Aramis split on opposite sides, which makes for good drama and develops lesser explored dynamics. D'Artagnan and Porthos form a scrappy team of opportunists with money on their minds, and Athos and Aramis a more idealistic duo fighting for a noble lost cause. I think it's a bold choice but also premium sequel writing.

I also love the way the young and wild characters we knew evolve into middle aged men ; at their core, they're still the same, but they've all changed and struggled against the sunset of the golden age in their own ways.

D'Artagnan, after knowing such adventures and subsequent rapid social ascension in his teenage years, has been met in his adult life with the harsh reality that he is, in fact, not a noble knight but a soldier on payroll. His modest origins give him little hope for any further career advancement, and he takes on a new mission in his early 40s for a man he has no devotion for and a cause he doesn't care about, simply because he is bored and broke. D'Artagnan still has his quick wits, his strategic talent, his fencing skills, but he has grown out of the excesses of pride of his teenage years. I loved meeting him again in TYA, and it made so much sense to me that his bouts of anger and aggressivity would be a youthful trait that he'd ended up taming. He also realizes now a lot of what seemed like funny adventures and necessary violence was actually kind of fucked up ; that was a shock to me, as their shenanigans are treated so lightly in T3M, and tbh it healed me a little. Grown up d'Artagnan is cunning, calculating, down to earth and realistic. My foxy little man. I love him.

Porthos, likewise, has been struck by the weight of reality. He has made the sensible choice and got married to the rich widow who sugar mommied him in the first book. Now she's passed, he is rich, but he still fails to earn the respect of the high society he evolves in because he's not high born enough. Like d'Artagnan, he's stagnating and bored and now that he goes back adventuring it has nothing to do with the queen or the kingdom or honour ; it's about getting his damn nobility title.

Athos, on the other hand, is the eternal knight : the only truly high born of the four, and still hopelessly holding on to a time gone by. It's no surprise imo that his storyline brings him into the english civil war, doomed to fail at saving a king who'll end up executed right in front of him. TYA acknowledges more clearly than ever that at 28 yo, Athos was a depressed alcoholic, and an embodiment of what an excess of aristocratic righteousness can do. In TYA, he is sober and moisturized and a DILF, and now he's running around frantically looking for absolution for his numerous crimes. It's delicious.

Aramis is maybe the hardest pill to swallow. TYA confirms the T3M hints that he isn't really the prim and proper romantic boy he acts like he is, and that he's possibly the most hypocritical and ruthless of the four. It might be a harsh one for Aramis fans who like him better as a cute bean, but I love the early onset of remorseless conniving bloodthirsty ambitious Aramis. Another harsh bit might be the evolution of Aramis and d'Artagnan not really liking each other ; they were always the least close combination, and imo it makes sense that their personalities would clash. I think it's clever and compelling conflict.

Now, obviously, if you've cared enough to read all this and if you know me a little, you know that a huge highlight of the book for me was its late-appearing antagonist, Mordaunt. Mordaunt is the son Milady had with her english husband. Because of the Musketeers' intervention, he's grown up in poverty and has been denied his father's inheritance. He's now a Roundhead working for Cromwell, and set on avenging his mother at all costs. Mordaunt, unlike his mother who was this beautiful and dangerous force of nature, is very uncool and pathetic. She was the primordial snake, he's the gutter rat. Obviously, I love that in and of itself, but it's also kind of striking image of the wretchedness of what they've done to her, a fucked up little goblin ghost come back to haunt them as they're trying to make their life worth living again. This time, their enemy is not a cunning political rival with a flamboyance of body and mind akin to their own ; it's a shitty little guy with bad skin who wants to kill the king and punish the murderers. Watch out babes, it's the modern world coming for you.

Of course, they're the Four Musketeers, and they did what they had to do, so they get together again and swear friendship and keep going their way. But they're also old guys with difficult personalities in a world that's never going to be the same. I think it's a cool book.

[whatcannotbesaid-shallbewept]

Why The Genderswap Is The Best Thing About Warriors

Here's another post on The Warriors genderswap because I’m still not over how good it was!!!

You've got to understand that changing the Warriors to women was a sacrifice. No matter how good a choice it was, it alienated a lot of the people who would otherwise be obsessed with it.

Warriors is already a cult 70s movie - it doesn't have a huge fanbase. Making the main characters women basically alienated that entire fanbase. Because Warriors is very much a movie about masculinity.

The fans liked it because it was about masculinity, and masculine themes (courage, honour) done masculine-y.

You can find megafans of the movie on reddit or tumblr, who are very much annoyed that the story is no longer about men being men. The story isn't the same anymore, and they aren't interested.

But the change wasn't made without reason.

Lin Manuel Miranda previously thought it was impossible to turn the Warriors into a musical, despite it being one of his favourite movies. The thing that changed his mind? The genderswap.

The Warriors album was made because of the genderswap. Lin thought it was the only interesting way to tell the story in the modern age - and you know what? He was right.

Everything just hits harder when they're women.

Orphan Town and We Got You are hilarious because they're women.

Turning a male/female seductions on their head. Male seduction is a k-pop Ballad about being a nice guy? Genius.

Moments like Call Me Mercy and Park At Night are empowering and emotionally charged because they're women.

Mercy looks at the Warriors and for the first time in her life sees women that have empowered themselves, and drops everything in her life to join them, because she wants to feel like that too.

Ajax sees a catcaller sexually harassing all of her friends and thinks "I need to teach this guy a lesson, because no one else in the world will ever do that"

The story feels more intense - it feels scarier.

On some level, every women is afraid to walk home at night, and Warriors is just that feeling elevated to a musical. The threat doesn't just feel more real - it feels intimately relatable.

The genderswap was heavily inspired by gamergate. Warriors is now a story about women not being believed, being falsely accused and taken advantage of.

But the story's moral still ends up being that these women need to keep their pride, need to keep pushing on. Through everything they still hold their heads high.

God it just works so well.

Re-intepreting Luther into an incel-type villian who wants the women out of his "space"? Brilliant. Turning the controversial Swan/Mercy romance into a lesbian love story? Fantastic! Shifting the story from being about courage, to being about the courage to hold your head high even after being attacked with gender-charged abuse? Life-changing.

The emotions just... work better when they're women. Reversing the genderswap now would be taking the story's teeth away.

You can't reverse time now guys!

Much like Warriors evolved the book - the musical evolved the movie. The dudebros are scratching their heads - angry they can't relate to the musical, without realising that they aren't supposed to.

Warriors is no longer a story about masculinity. It's about femininity now and I couldn't be happier.

[babydollmarauders]

BALLAD OF A HOMESCHOOLED GIRL — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: in which y/n goes on a date with Jack and thinks she made a complete fool of herself

notes: obviously inspired by Ballad of a Homeschooled Girl by Olivia Rodrigo, not proofread and written on extreme sleepiness. (3.6k words)

third dates.

my mother always told me to have them in group settings.

she said the first date is to get to know each other; the second is to learn how he’d treat you in private; the third date is to learn how he’d treat you in front of his friends.

most guys seem to get intimidated when i ask about joining a hang out with his friends for the third date, but Jack was different. i had told Jack on our first about my rules.

first date in a public setting, but alone.

second date in private, his apartment or mine.

third date with a group of friends.

i hadn’t expected him to take it so well, nodding along as though even without context, it made sense. he didn’t ask for clarification, which was good because i had learned after my last relationship not to give any; lest they’ll act like a gentlemen in front of their friends until we start dating.

i honestly didn’t expect Jack to contact me again, fully awaiting the discovery that he’d ghosted me, possibly even blocked me to keep me from talking to him again. but then he texted me tonight.

“i know it’s last minute, but third date tonight? me and some guys from the team are going for drinks, would you wanna come?”

and now here i am, walking into a pretty secluded bar to meet Jack and about half a dozen other professional hockey players. to say i’m nervous would be a massive understatement.

i spent at least half an hour trying on various outfits, but nothing felt right. every article of clothing i tried on had something wrong with it; whether it be that it didn’t fit quite right, or it didn’t match the occasion, or i just deemed it didn’t look good on me, something was always wrong. so i finally settled on a nice sundress, despite the chilled air of the evening.

“y/n!” my head turns in search of the voice that called my name, locking eyes with Jack, where he sits at a high top table with five other guys. “i was starting to think you’d stood me up!”

my eyebrows furrow as i walk over to him, stopping at the end of the table. my stomach ties in knots at all of the eyes on me. i hate attention.

“why would i do that?” a few of the guys chuckle at my question, but i’m not sure i understand what’s so funny.

“i was joking.” Jack clarifies.

oh.

embarrassment washes over me and i can feel the blood rushing to my cheeks, but Jack just smiles sweetly, rising to his feet and pulling out the chair beside him.

“oh, thank you.” i take a seat and he returns to his, his hand settling on my knee as one of the guys begin to speak.

“so, you’re y/n?” my eyes go wide, and i glance over at Jack but he’s looking over at the other guy. “i’m Luke.”

“nice to meet you, Luke.” i give the curly headed boy a tight smile, “so, you play with Jack?”

the boy grins, nodding his head, “i guess you could say that.”

everyone snickers, and i fear i’ve made a mistake of some sort. my blood runs cold; i hate feeling like i’m on the outside of some giant inside joke.

maybe this was a mistake.

Jack squeezes my knee, and i look over at him with subtly pleading eyes, silently begging for him to save me.

“Luke is my younger brother, but he does play on the team with me.” there it is. that’s where i messed up.

“oh, i’m sorry.” i’m not sure what i’m apologizing for, but it seems like the right thing to do. i glance back at Luke, “i knew Jack had mentioned your name before but, he’s mentioned so many names that at this point they all jumble together in my head.”

Luke just shakes his head, waving it off. “nah, don’t worry, it’s okay.”

after that, i decide it’s better to go quiet; only really speaking when spoken to. i can’t embarrass myself if i’m not saying anything.

“hey.” Jack’s voice is soft, and at first, i don’t even realize he’s talking to me, until i tear my eyes from who i now know as Dawson, who’s telling a story with wildly gesturing hands. “do you wanna go get a drink?”

he nods his head over towards the bar, and i nod, desperately in need of something to ease my nerves, “yes, please.”

Jack and i rise from our seats, his hand going to my lower back to stabilize me as i stumble. my cheeks go red, but i decide it’s better not to acknowledge my clumsiness.

“and i— where are you guys going?” Dawson cuts himself off, drawing attention to Jack and i’s retreating pair. “did i bore you, y/n?”

i stop in my tracks, freezing up as guilt takes over me.

“i- what? n-no! Jack-” i stumble over my words in a panic, attempting to reassure him, but apparently i didn’t help my case.

“see, Merc! poor y/n even finds your story stupid.” John laughs and i shake my head wildly.

“no! i found it interesting!” Nico snickers at my words, his hand coming up to cover his mouth.

“interesting. that’s one way of putting it.”

oh god, i made it worse.

“guys, leave her alone.” Jack speaks up, rolling his eyes at his friends before he turns back to me. “c’mon, ignore them, they’re just raggin’ on you.”

my brows thread together in confusion, but i nod nonetheless, allowing him to use his hand that still rests on my back to guide me over to the bar.

“i’m sorry about them.” he sighs as we reach the counter, waiting for a bartender. “they have a stupid sense of humor.”

“no! no, it’s fine!” i assure him.

it’s not them, it’s me.

i’ve never been great at picking up on social cues, perhaps due to my odd lifestyle as a child.

when the bartender reaches us, Jack orders another beer before looking over at me, “oh, can i just get an aperol spritz, please?”

Jack hands over his card and when he gets it back he turns to me.

“i gotta run to the bathroom, are you okay waiting for the drinks? i’ll be back in a second.” i nod and he takes off towards the restroom, leaving me alone.

“so, you like him?” apparently not alone for long.

i turn my head in surprise, only to find Luke standing beside me. he asks the bartender who arrives back with Jack and i’s drinks for another beer and the man nods.

“hmm? Jack?” Luke nods and i smile looking down into my glass. “yeah, i really like him.”

“see, i said so!” my face scrunched in confusion as i look back at him.

“you said so?” i question.

“yeah! Johnny was trying to say you must not like him because you aren’t being very flirty, but i told him- i said you obviously like him if you’re on a third date.”

flirting.

i’ve never been great at that. and i haven’t needed to be, Jack is the one who approached me first, he’s the one who asked me out and he hasn’t given any indication that i have any reason to have to flirt to keep his attention.

“oh.”

Luke pays for his beer before retreating back to the table with a low “see you in a few.”

i’m quick to tear my phone out of my pocket, glancing over towards the restrooms for a moment to make sure my date isn’t coming back before making a quick google search.

this seems impossible.

“hey.” Jack reappears beside me and i hastily lock my phone, looking up at him as i go to slide it back into my pocket. but the combination of my fidgety hands, quick movements, and not paying attention to my surroundings doesn’t end well.

before i can even blink, my hand is knocking into my glass, the drink sliding off the bar top and onto the floor, shattering upon impact.

“oh my god!” i squeal, jumping back from the broken shards. i glance down at the mess before looking back up at Jack. “i am so sorry!”

i turn to the waitress who comes rushing towards us with a broom and towels, apologizing profusely and offering to clean it up myself.

“it’s no problem, happens all the time.” she tells me with a smile, but i still bury my face in my hands.

i’m making a fool of myself.

“can we get another aperol spritz?” i peek through my eyes at the sound of Jack’s voice, watching as he hands the bartender his card again.

“i am so sorry, Jack.” my voice is low and whimpered, my shoulders rising as though to protect myself. “i just wasted your money and made a huge mess.”

Jack smiles softly, shaking his head as he chuckles, “don’t worry about it. it’s seriously okay, y/n. accidents happen, don’t beat yourself up about it.”

i nod, but i truly feel horrible now.

this was a mistake. i should’ve just stayed home; watched a cheesy romance or read a true crime novel and gone to bed early.

the bartender hands me the new drink, and i thank him before Jack leads me back to the table.

“everything okay?” Timo questions as we return and Jack just nods as we settle back in our seats.

“yeah, just a little accident. it’s all good.” the guys chuckle but all turn back to their previous conversation, somehow now on the topic of the wildest things they did in school.

i stay silent, hoping and praying to any higher power that they don’t involve me in this conversation, but my luck runs out pretty quickly. although i’m not sure i’ve had any tonight in the first place.

“what about you, y/n?” Nico is the one to rope me in, “what’s the wildest thing you did in school?”

“i- uh-” i internally cringe, mentally preparing myself for their jokes, “i was homeschooled. so, i didn’t really get to do anything crazy like you guys.”

“ohh, you’re a homeschool kid.” Luke nods as if it makes sense.

“did you know that statistically speaking, homeschoolers are more likely to graduate than public schoolers?” John pipes up, and i shake my head.

“really?” Jack questions, his nose scrunched cutely in disbelief.

“no, i- uh, i didn’t know that.” John nods at my words.

“yeah, look it up!” he points to my phone, which never actually made it to my pocket after the broken glass fiasco and now resides face down on the table.

i pick it up and Jack and Dawson, who both reside on either respective side of me, lean in to see my phone screen, eager to find out whether their teammate is correct.

but when i unlock my phone, my eyes grow wide and i’m eagerly attempting to swipe out of the current window, but it’s as if the world is against me because this is the exact moment that my phone screen decides to freeze.

“does that say ‘how to flirt?’” Dawson chuckles and i bite my lip, giving up and slamming my phone face down onto my lap as the table bursts into laughter.

i’m blushing like a mad woman, squeezing my eyes shut as i bury my face into my hands for the second time that night.

“aww y/n, you really let John get to you, huh?” Luke teases, and i feel like i could cry of embarrassment.

everything i do is tragic.

suddenly my seat is moving, scooting further to my right, before an arm is spindling around my waist. i let my hands lower just slightly to peer up at Jack, who wears a happy grin, his cheeks tinged pink.

he glances down at me, smiling even wider when he sees that i’m already looking at him.

it’s like a cat’s got my tongue, too stunned by the overwhelming mortification of the situation to even get a word out to explain or defend myself.

but Jack doesn’t seem to mind, pulling me into his body until my head is against his collarbone as he changes the subject; bringing up a story about he and his older brother trying to free an infant Luke from his crib when they were younger.

i’m quiet as the group speaks, most of them speaking over each other, which in turn makes others get louder to try and be heard. my head aches and i need a break.

“i’m gonna go to the bathroom.” i whisper, freeing myself from Jack’s hold as he nods in understanding.

“okay. are you okay?” i give him a small smile, reassuring him that i’m fine before i leave.

my hands rest upon the bathroom sink, my eyes glaring into my reflection in the wonky bar mirror.

“get it together.” i try and tell myself, but it comes out in more of a whine.

why am i like this?

i run my hands through my hair, making sure it’s volumized, and heave out a sigh before i make my way back out of the restroom to join the table again.

on my way back, i can’t help but smile at the sight of Jack laughing with his friends.

he seems so carefree.

but i should’ve been watching where i was going, because halfway to the table, i’m tripping over someone’s heeled foot, landing on my knee on the hard ground.

“oh shit!” Jack’s voice echoes over the loudness of the music and bar-goers, and i can hear multiple chairs screech across the floor. “y/n, are you okay?”

oh god, i wanna curl up and die.

“yeah, i’m fine.” my voice is wavering and weak, so over making an idiot of myself tonight.

Jack appears in front of me, holding his hands out to help me up. his skin is soft as i slide my hands into his, allowing him to pull me up to my feet.

his friends stand behind him, a couple biting back laughs, but the others wide eyed in concern.

i let Jack guide me back to the table, and when i sit down, he’s kneeling in front of me, inspecting my knee for any immediate bruising or marks.

i sigh and he looks up at me, worry settled into his expression.

“that was a hell of a tumble.” Timo snickers, but he sobers up quickly as his eyes meet Jack’s, “you’re okay though, right?”

“physically? yes. mentally? questionable.” the table laughs, but i didn’t mean to joke, which only makes me press my lips together.

Jack finally deems my knee okay, settling back into his seat and letting his arm rest over the back of my chair.

“what were we talking about?” Jack asks, effectively diverting the attention away from my fall and back to the conversation from while i was gone.

“cheating.” John states, taking a sip from his beer.

i let out a little laugh, thinking he was just joking, but i sober up as i realize nobody else is.

“oh, you were serious.” i bite my lip as he nods.

“right!” Luke exclaims, “so people are saying he cheated on her?”

“yeah,” Dawson nods, and i’m a bit lost, “which i don’t understand, because all he did was hold hands with the other girl. we don’t know anything other than that. holding hands could have so many different meanings.”

i take a big gulp of my drink, listening intently as the guys debate cheating and what counts as cheating.

“i think, if one of you guys cheated on your girlfriend, i might ‘accidentally’ knock your teeth out on the ice.” Nico tells them, making the guys and i laugh. “i’m serious, you’d be bag skating until you physically drop from exhaustion.”

and like word vomit, before i can stop myself, i’m speaking, “my friend recently cheated on her boyfriend, and i can’t tell if i should tell him or let him find out on his own.”

their heads turn to me and i shrink in my seat as i realize what just escaped my lips.

“oh my god, i’m not supposed to be telling that to anyone.” my hand covers my mouth, and a few of the guys laugh at my actions.

“you should definitely tell him.” John shrugs, “he deserves to know.”

“i thought so too, but if i do tell him, does that make me a horrible friend?” the guys all start shouting different things along the same lines.

some telling me it doesn’t make me a bad friend, while others telling me that i shouldn’t be friends with her anymore anyways.

“has she done anything else?” Luke asks, and i scrunch my nose.

“cheating wise, no: just one drunken kiss with some guy.” i start. “but she told him she was sick to get out of meeting his parents.”

i clap my hand over my mouth again, shocked that these secrets are just tumbling out of me.

“fuck, i shouldn’t be telling you guys these things.”

the guys cackle and Dawson changes the subject, apparently just remembering a story of something that happened to him back home over the summer.

i remain quiet for the next fifteen or so minutes, just listening as the guys go back and forth, telling stories of their summers, until i feel Jack’s hand on my shoulder.

“hey, i’m heading home, do you want me to drop you off at your house?”

i eagerly accept his offer, happily willing to leave now and avoid paying for an uber during surge pricing. the both of us bid goodbye to his teammates and his brother, who says he’ll hitch a ride back to the apartment with Dawson, before we head out to his car.

i smile as he opens the car door for me, allowing me to climb in before he shuts the door again and jogs around the front of the car, slipping into the drivers side.

i don’t need to give him my address, our second date having been at my apartment, so i just clasp my hands tightly together in my lap, both of his on his steering wheel.

“i had fun tonight.” he tells me as we pull up to my apartment building.

“yeah, your friends are nice.”

not a complete lie. they are nice, i’m just not sure i got along with them, or more so, that they liked me.

“can i walk you up?” i accept his request and he exits the car, running around it to open my door before i get the chance to.

i mentally prepare myself on the silent elevator up to my apartment, readying myself to have him tell me that he doesn’t think we fit.

i was awkward tonight, breaking a glass, stumbling over my words, tripping, googling things that should be common knowledge, and telling secrets i had no business telling.

i couldn’t think of any worse ways to ruin a potential relationship.

when we reach my apartment, Jack stops me in front of my door, and before he gets the chance to belittle my dignity any further than i, myself, already have, i’m speaking up.

“i completely understand if you don’t wanna continue this.” i sigh, finding sudden interest in my shoes. “i made a complete fool of myself tonight.”

“why would you think i don’t wanna see you again?” he sounds hurt, his finger hooking under my chin and pulling my head up to look at him.

i chuckle lowly, “you can’t take me anywhere. every time i go out, it’s social suicide.”

“so you’re a bit clumsy and you need time to click with my friends and their humor, so what?” he shrugs, “i think you’re cute. and i’m incredibly honored that you wanted to flirt with me.”

i groan, my face flushing, and i tip my head back to look up at the ceiling.

“oh god, that was so embarrassing.” i whine.

“it was sweet.” Jack chuckles, pulling me into his chest. his arms wrap around me and i melt into his embrace, his chin resting on top of my head.

“i really like you, y/n. and tonight may not have gone the way you would’ve liked, and i can respect that, you’re allowed to feel that way, but i really liked it. i got a chance to figure out more about you and what you’re like, and it only solidified that i’d really like to keep getting to know you, see where this could lead.”

my head snaps up to look him in the eyes, “you would?”

he giggles at my actions, nodding his head. “yeah, i would.”

his head dips down and i suck in a breath as his lips near mine.

“can i kiss you?” he questions, and i nod.

“yes, please.”

his lips slot against mine, moving in sync and pulling me even closer to him if it’s possible. his hands slide up to cup the back of my neck, his tongue tracing my bottom lip and i part my lips to allow him entrance.

what starts slow and passionate, turns into something hot and heavy. i huff as he pulls away, my lips chasing after his and making him smile.

“do you wanna come inside?” i ask him, my voice low and sultry, and his eyes darken almost instantly.

he smirks, answering only by taking my keys from my hands and unlocking my door, leading me into my own apartment.

“ya know, i don’t think you needed that google search. you’re pretty good at luring me in all on your own.”

[magicalbats]

Kinktober 2024 Day 12: Harbingers x Reader

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 7456

Warnings: Afab!reader, Traveler!reader, noncon, orgy, bondage, sensory deprivation, vaginal fingering, piv, squirting, brief pelvic exam, whatever is going on between Childe and the reader

A/N: I decided to keep this one to just the Harbingers I was familiar enough with so Scaramouche, Childe, Arlecchino, Dottore, Pantalone and Capitano are featured. Six people definitely make for an orgy, right? Right. But a fair warning for the Capitano fans , after taking what I currently know of him into account he ended up largely being a bystander for most of this until the end so I just wanted to be clear on that expectation going into this. I still haven't gotten around to the 5.1 Archon Quest yet 🙈

⭐

The Balladeer is not gentle about the way he steers you down the chilly hall, his grip on your upper arm pinching and tight even through the heavy coat he’d thrown over you to ensure you didn’t succumb to frostbite. You were grateful for that small act of kindness from him since it was the only thing you’d been left with other than your boots, but you were still freezing underneath all that excess of fabric and fur. Hardly any surprise there. Snezhnaya was even more frigid and inhospitable than you’d expected it to be. 

As to why he’d stripped you bare, you had no idea. After capturing you inside the old, decrepit Inazuman mansion where the Fatui were operating their Delusion factory out of, he’d kept such a close eye on you that you never would have had the chance to retaliate or escape even if you’d wanted to try. And you did. More than anything else, you wanted to flee from him and return back to the island nation so you could search for Paimon. She was the second person you’d been forcibly separated from in Teyvat and that knowledge stings more than you would have expected it to. You just hoped she was alright, wherever she was. 

But as soon as you’d reached the Snezhnayan border, Scaramouche had taken the time to relieve you of all your clothes before replacing them with the heavy cloak you were currently bundled in. Initially you’d assumed he was going to do something truly heinous and disgusting to you but, to your ever growing uncertainty, he’d left you alone after that. You were inclined to think it was just some sort of foul humiliation tactic meant to further solidify your position as a captive and discourage any thoughts you might still harbor about escaping. It was clear that the coat wouldn’t save you indefinitely out in this harsh environment. 

Now you’re not so sure though. He’d relentlessly dragged you all the way here from Inazuma, hardly even stopping long enough to let you rest or eat along the way, and had barely spoken more than five words to you over the long journey. And he was clearly proud of himself for capturing you. That was easy enough to see at just a glance, yet he hadn’t gloated about it or dangled it over your head. It seemed more likely that he had an objective in bringing you here like this, in such a vulnerable state of helpless undress, and you were understandably nervous of what awaited you in this magnificent yet eerily cold and silent palace. 

“Relax.” He snaps at you when you start to drag your feet, roughly yanking on your arm to keep you in line. “We’re almost there.” 

Stumbling alongside him, you have no choice but to comply. You were regretfully powerless to do anything about it when your wrists were tied behind your back with a thick knot of unbudging rope and you can’t even complain about it either. Effectively gagged to silence with the uncomfortable bit of bamboo he’d wedged in your mouth, all you can do is impotently hiss around it as he pulls you along. 

Finally you reach the end of the corridor where he leads you straight up to the imposing set of massive, intricately carved double doors that loom up out of the dreary darkness at you. They almost look like something a giant would have used rather than any mortal person and you anxiously wrench back on his hold in an attempt to stop him from taking you any further. Somehow you got the sense you weren’t going to like what awaited you on the other side. 

It doesn’t work though, of course, and Scaramouche easily keeps his bruising grip on your arm as he reaches for the smaller, more human looking door built into the impressive structure. The hinges give a vaguely ominous creak when it swings open to grant the two of you entry but he doesn’t even give you a chance to fight it before you’re tripping through the entryway under his guidance. 

You immediately understand that your intuition was correct and you were right to fear what was inside as soon as your eyes land on the long, ceremonious table situated within, and Childe promptly shoots up out of his seat at your sudden appearance. 

“Traveler?” 

Noising a wordless exclamation at him, you swing your attention around at the rest of the room's occupants. You didn’t know any of the other Harbingers by their looks alone but you could probably guess at some of their identities based on the brief descriptions the Eleventh had given you back in Liyue. 

The one with the beaked mask was probably The Doctor and based on the chilly, disinterested look she sends you you’d wager the woman was probably The Knave. You’re not sure about the bespectacled man with dark hair or the toweringly large one with his face covered, but it was probably safe to say that they were just as dangerous as Childe had said they all were. 

Your skin nervously prickles as you break out in an ice cold sweat, jerking your attention back and forth over the assembled faces. Where was Signora? 

“You really did it,” The beak masked one marvels, sounding really quite pleased by this development. “And the gnosis?” 

“Our Fair Lady is taking care of it.” Scaramouche says, making you snap your head around to look at him in surprise. Glancing over at you at the sudden movement, he studies your face for a short beat before he allows his mouth to curl in a mean, haughty little smirk. “Oh, did you not realize she was in Inazuma too? After already running into her twice before you really should have expected as much, right?” 

You squawk at him through the gag but there’s too much happening in the room all at once as people start to stand up from their seats for him to pay it any mind. 

Swinging his attention back around, Scaramouche looks down the length of his nose at his fellow Harbinger’s like a powerful king might regard his lesser peons. That manages to impress you somewhat, given his ranking as only the Sixth. “Where are the Tsaritsa and the others? I’ve brought back a souvenir for us all to share.” 

“Her Majesty is not in the mood to see anyone today.” The imposingly tall man in the mask says, unfolding himself from his chair to rise. Your eyes widen slightly when you realize how much bigger he actually is than the rest of them, but then you register that Childe is coming towards you and he manages to successfully distract your attention from the others. 

“What happened to you?” He murmurs as both of his gloved hands reach out to cradle your cheeks between the gloved palms. You’re almost floored by how tenderly he tips your face up at him, looking you over with those depthless blue eyes, but all you can respond with is a weak little mewl through the gag. 

It was making your jaw hurt something fierce, unseemly drool threatening to escape from the corners of your stuffed lips. You prayed he at least would be kind enough to take it out of your mouth for you but he doesn’t get the chance. 

Aggressively yanking on your arm, Scaramouche pulls you away from Childe so hard you nearly stumble right into him but you manage to catch your balance just in time to watch the taller ginger round on him with a snarl. Surely they weren’t going to come to blows fighting over you … right? 

“What do you think you’re doing? Explain yourself, Balladeer. Now.” 

“Please. Spare me your weak sentimentality, Tartaglia. It’s enough to make me wretch. The Traveler is my prisoner and I get to decide what happens to her, at least until the Tsaritsa issues her final verdict for her crimes. But until then, I call the shots. Not you.” 

“Bastard - -“ 

“Boys.” The only other woman in the room calls over, drawing your gaze to find she’s also stood up and come around the table to lean against it with her arms crossed. Lifting a somewhat sardonic brow at you, she condescendingly tips her head to one side. “I believe The Balladeer is correct. He captured our little guest which makes her his prisoner. It is not our place to question how any in our ranks accomplishes their goals.” 

“That’s hardly the point, Arlecchino!” Childe insists, confirming that you had indeed guessed her identity correctly. “Prisoner or not, she’s - -“ 

“In safe hands, I’m sure.” The Doctor throws in with a smug, simpering smirk under his mask. “Her Majesty the Tsaritsa only said not to kill her. She never said anything about not being permitted to … play with her a little bit. Don’t you think this is an ample opportunity for us to properly introduce ourselves, Regrator?” 

You follow the direction he glances in to see that he’s talking to the one with glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. So that was Pantalone, then. 

Huffing and puffing his frustration with all of them, Childe disbelievingly glances around at the assembled Harbingers as if he couldn’t quite believe what they were suggesting. It’s not hard to see he’s the closest thing you have to an ally here, but he was only one in a group of six and the youngest among them at that. There was no way he’d be able to save you from your ultimate fate unless he wanted to take everyone on by himself. 

And given the way his hands clench into tight, angry fists at his sides, you’re not so sure he won’t do it. 

“And what exactly are you proposing we do with her?” Arlecchino finally hedges, ignoring the murmurs of rising discourse from her colleagues in favor of getting straight to the point of the matter. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Scaramouche clicks his tongue in annoyance as he jostles you forward to stand just in front of him. “We’ve got a point to make now that we have her so why pretend otherwise? None of you are good people so don’t kid yourselves into believing otherwise. Yes, that includes you, Tartaglia.” 

Your wide, panicked eyes flicker in his direction to find Childe opening his mouth to snap at the puppet, his body so stiff and tightly braced that you think he might really launch himself in attack. He never gets a chance to follow through on it though as Scaramouche’s unoccupied hand comes up to grab a fistful of your cloak and yank it open with a violent jerk. 

All at once your bare body is assaulted with a sudden, merciless rush of cold air, and you squeak a horrified sound around the gag as you jerk in alarm. Your nipples were already stiff and achingly pointed coils, and they just tighten even more against the wafting air to make you tremble a sensitive shudder. Whatever Childe had been about to say dies in his throat, choking on it when his mouth drops open in genuine shock. It’s like he truly couldn’t believe what he was seeing and you whimper a flustered sound at him, pleading for him to help you. 

“Don’t even think about it.” Scaramouche viciously hisses behind you, though you can’t quite tell if he’d aimed that at you or his colleague. But it doesn’t really matter either way, because he just shoves you forward to steer you towards the table without giving anyone a chance to say anything more about it. 

Openly blinking at the fleshy bounce of your naked tits, Arlecchino slowly unfolds her arms and steps aside to allow The Balladeer room to shove you up against the side of the table. You wildly kick and flail, struggling against the rope keeping your arms bound behind you with every ounce of strength you have left, but it’s no use. After a perfunctory fight for leverage, he manages to get you hauled up on the table and flipped over where he roughly pins you down by the shoulders. 

Raggedly panting through your nose now, you peer up into Scaramouche’s leering face. The distant prickle of frightened tears registers somewhere far in the back of your mind but you valiantly force them back, knowing good and well that such display of weakness wouldn’t do you any good here. Not in this particular crowd. Not with these people, and you merely hiss like an incensed cat as you try to squirm free of his hold. 

“Mmffh!”

“That’s it, Traveler. Keep struggling. I’m sure that’ll just excite some of us even more.” The Sixth croons at you, laughing a silken, throaty sound under his breath as he crawls all the way up to fully straddle you. 

For a split second you can make out a commotion rising up behind him but it’s quickly subdued, and Arlecchino’s soft spoken voice filters through the oppressive atmosphere immediately after. She must be talking to Childe, you think. No doubt trying to talk some reason into him even though he was the only other reasonable person here besides you right now. 

Unfortunately you don’t get to linger on that thought for very long because a gloved hand reaching into your space catches your attention, and you squeak a terrified sound as you tip your head back to follow that arm up to its owner. Somehow you’re not particularly surprised to find it’s The Doctor curling his fingers around the meat of your tit to give it a consideringly tight squeeze, making you whimper at the sharp discomfort. He just chuckles a low laugh though, clearly amused by the flash of pain that crosses your face, and he quickly does it again. 

“Fret not, little Traveler. If Tartaglia wants you so bad then we’ll be happy to give you to him. After we’ve finished playing with you first, of course.” 

“I didn’t take you for the sort, Dottore. Your interests always seemed to lean more towards that of machine than the comfort of human women.” The exceptionally tall one comments in a rather offhand manner considering what was happening right in front of him. 

“Oh, but you wound me, Captain. I’m always a scientist first and foremost before anything else, and I’m quite curious to find out how human this one really is.” 

You noise an equally confused and startled sound at that, brows furrowing up at his awful beaked mask. If Scaramouche hadn’t been pinning you down with the full brunt of his weight, you would have happily flung your foot through the air to kick him right in his smug face and you would have taken a great deal of satisfaction in doing so. Something told you he probably deserved it more than anyone else here. 

But then the sensation of another hand slipping over the opposite side of your chest startles you back into the present, and you glance over to find Pantalone gently groping at the weight of your breast. At your helpless wail through the gag, he just smiles a deceptively saccharine look at you, head tipping to one side almost inquisitively. 

“It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you, you know. I’ve heard so many good things about you but I wasn’t expecting such a formidable swordswoman to be quite this pretty. You’re a lovely little thing, aren’t you?” 

Working his fingers a bit higher, Pantalone rather unceremoniously grabs hold of your pebbled nipple to give it a thoughtful tug. The immediate burst of sharp, hyper sensitive sensation makes you twist on top of the table but it’s no use. They’ve got you so thoroughly pinned down and trapped between them that no amount of effort on your part was going to get you out of this. Your only hope was Childe and he’d gone mysteriously quiet wherever he was in the room, if he was even still here at all. 

The thought that he might have left you to the wolves scares you more than it has any right to, and you try to call out to him through the bamboo gag. This, too, is an effort in futility though. Even you’re not quite sure what you’re attempting to say. 

Humming a thoughtful sound, Dottore gives your aching tit one last, lingering squeeze before dragging his hand further down your body. Your stomach wildly flexes under his palm, fast pumping fear making you inch dangerously close to full on panic, but he just keeps going. Lower and lower. 

Scaramouche is quick to take his empty spot and, leaving his hands pressed into your shoulders to keep you down, he bends his head over your chest to take that abandoned nipple in his mouth. You outright jolt at the sensation and suck in a startled breath but there’s too much happening all at once for you to focus on any one thing. It’s hard to say if you should be more concerned about the Sixth Harbinger enthusiastically suckling at your sore teat or the way Pantalone is insistently tugging on the other to stretch the pliant skin. 

Even worse is the vague sense you get of Dottore stepping into the space at the bottom of the table where he rather forcefully shoves your legs apart in a wide spread. Your cunt is the only part of your chilled body that feels in any way warm at this point, but that natural heat seems to quickly leave you without the press of your thighs there to keep it in. The end result makes the fleshy seam feel indescribably bare and exposed in a way you’d never known before, like you were overly aware of every tiny little sensation that courses through it, and you wildly buck underneath Scaramouche in an attempt to dislodge him. 

“Keep her still, won’t you?” The Doctor coos as one of his gloved hands slides inward to lightly tease over your pussy. “I’d like to find out what sort of state her reproductive organs are in.” 

You squawk a startled sound at that but Pantalone just tweaks your poor nipple harder for it. 

“Now, now,” He murmurs in that liltingly soft voice. “If you don’t behave yourself, we’ll have to resort to doing something that will make you feel a bit more inclined to cooperate. Surely you don’t want it to come to that, do you?” 

The pointed, deliberate way he pinches down on the teat between his fingers makes your stomach twist itself into knots for reasons you can’t quite explain. Despite his arguably polite and handsome facade, you suspected he was just as dangerous as Dottore probably was. It wouldn’t be smart to test your luck with either of them. 

So you simply lie there and take it, wincing as The Doctor sedately works your cunt lips open and slips two long digits in to apply pressure just at your entrance. You let out a smothered cry when your body tries to reject him, not even close to being excited enough to make the penetration smooth and easy. But he simply keeps pushing in on that vulnerable spot until he can slowly inch his way into you down to the knuckle. It’s uncomfortable and borderline painful, especially with the material of his glove adding another layer of friction that didn’t need to be there, but he doesn’t care. None of them do, except maybe Childe, and all you can do is noise a shrill sound around the bamboo when Scaramouche suddenly bites down on your nipple none too gently. 

And to think he’d had you completely at his mercy this entire time but decided to hold off until he could really humiliate you and drive the point home with the other Harbingers. It was astoundingly petty of him. 

“There, that’s a good girl.” Dottore croons at you as if you were nothing more than a dog for him to bring to heel in his eyes. It’s an impression he only further solidifies when he gives your tender inner thigh a series of companionable pats before taking that hand and sliding it up to brace along your lower stomach. “You might feel some pressure but it’s nothing to worry about. Take a deep breath now …” 

He starts to push down then, surprising an undignified squawk out of you as he presses right in on your uterus. At the same time he angles the fingers in you upward to feel along your inner sleeve and gently massage against you, alarming you even more when you feel your cunt reluctantly respond to the clinical stimulation. It feels like your heart is going to jackhammer right out of your chest as you stiffly writhe against the top of the table, struggling just to keep drawing oxygen into your lungs while he rudely violates you like that. 

“Hmm. Everything certainly seems to be in order. I suppose you really are just a girl after all. Lucky you.” 

“Isn’t that good news?” Pantalone teases you, tauntingly walking his fingers down the length of your shuddering body to crowd in next to Dottore’s between your thighs. “The Doctor has given you a clean bill of health, which means we can play as much as you’d like.” 

You give your head a terse shake, trying to tell him you didn’t want to play at all. But of course he doesn’t listen, slyly curling his fingers inward to lightly rub over your clit and help Dottore in his effort of turning your own body against you. The two of them work in shockingly perfect tandem with one another, almost like they’ve done this before. While one thrusts in and out of your cunt to encourage the production of sticky slick, the other caresses over that sensitive pleasure button to ensure you were feeling just good enough to help the process along. It was insidious and cruel. 

Not nearly as cruel as the way Scaramouche can’t seem to detach himself from your aching breasts though, and now that Pantalone has vacated his spot he quickly redirects his mouth to slurp on the opposite nipple instead. Except it’s already so raw and sensitized from the bespectacled man’s merciless tugging and pinching that the puppets mouth shocks a ragged gasp out of you. 

Your head spins wildly from the total onslaught of stimulation as you blindly kick your legs in a desperate bid to at least push Dottore away enough to give your pussy a short reprieve. But he’s situated too firmly in the space between your legs for you to budge him from this angle, and the heel of your boot just harmlessly slides right off his hip. 

Clearly realizing what you’re trying to do, Pantalone reaches down to hook his free hand in the bend of one knee and tug it out the side so you wouldn’t be able to find enough leverage or try to close your thighs from The Doctor’s concentrated attack. The sound of your cunt wetly clicking under the vigorous force of his hand seems to echo endlessly in the space between your ears and you valiantly try to fight it when the internal pressure steadily builds under his ministrations. 

There’s nothing you could do to stop it though when Dottore seemed to know exactly where to jab his fingers at inside your body, making your pussy scream in agony at the rough treatment. But against all odds you suddenly feel the dam break and your cunt let’s down under the insistent  pressure, spraying slick all over his wrist and along your shuddering inner thighs. Outright wailing in horror, you mindlessly renew your effort to thrash yourself free but, still, it’s no use. 

You were completely, utterly trapped. 

“That’s a good girl, Traveler. Such a sweet, obedient little cunt you have.” Dottore croons at you, his voice laced with sharp edged malice. “I haven’t had need of a woman in at least two-hundred years now, but for you I think I’ll make an exception.” 

“Wait.” 

You startle at the sound of Arlecchino’s voice coming from right beside you, blearily glancing up to find her standing just next to your head. Somehow you’d almost forgotten she was there at all. 

“Wait for what?” The Doctor impatiently snaps at her. 

“Let Childe have her first. He’s the youngest so it doesn’t seem very polite to make him wait until after you’ve already used her up, and … he’s still not particularly happy about what’s happening anyway. It should make him feel better if he understands what we’re doing to her.” 

A faint growl rises from Scaramouche when he finally brings his head up from your aching chest, leaving the nipples feeling flushed and raw in the wake of his mouth. “Watch it, Knave. I thought we already agreed she’s my prisoner.” 

“No one is disputing that, Balladeer. I’m only suggesting what I think will benefit us the most. Besides,” Cooly dragging her gaze over to regard you, she studies your frazzled, wide eyed expression for a short moment. “I suspect she will appreciate that consideration as well. After all, their rapport with one another is a fascinating development that I don’t think any of us saw coming. It only makes sense to capitalize on it, no?” 

Scaramouche draws a quick breath to snap back with something no doubt sharp and biting, but Dottore cuts him off with an abrupt laugh. 

“She's right, puppet. This should at the very least be an interesting show to watch.” Abruptly slipping his fingers out of you with a tiny wet slurp to leave your pussy weakly contracting around nothing, The Doctor steps to the side to presumably make room for the Eleventh Harbinger. “Go on then, Tartaglia. I’ve already got her warmed up for you. Surely at your age you don’t need any instruction on how to fuck a woman, do you?” 

You can’t quite make out what’s happening behind Scaramouche aside from a briefly heated exchange that makes you foolishly hope he won’t go through with it. Childe could still put a stop to this if he just didn’t give in to Dottore’s jeering peer pressure and instead used his brain to think of a way to get you out of here. 

But when The Balladeer pushes up to sit on top of you, throwing a vaguely disgusted scoff over his shoulder before he grudgingly moves to climb down, you implicitly understand that this is not going to work out as you’d hoped it would. He would have no reason to dismount otherwise when he’d seemed perfectly content nuzzling into your breasts like little more than a newborn. 

Sure enough, once everyone has moved aside enough for you to lift your head and glance down at the foot of the table, you find Childe standing there with a truly tortured look marring his youthful face. He’s visibly torn and conflicted about the situation, whatever feelings he had for you clashing with his duty as a Fatui Harbinger. You had no idea what Arlecchino had said to him but it must have been sufficiently convincing if he was even considering this. 

“Mmffhh! Mmm mmnngghh!” 

Slowly lifting his head at your wordless cries, Childe looks down at you with a truly regretful frown tugging at his expression. And for a drawn out moment he just stares at you, spread out on the table completely naked save the tall boots on your feet and the heavy cloak spread out underneath you. It was something you probably would have been happy to show him under better circumstances, but better circumstances would not have found five of his peers standing around you in a loose circle watching on in rapt, fascinated silence. 

It was enough to make anyone cry, and you sniffle rather sadly when he at last gives his head a solemn shake. 

“I’m sorry, Traveler. If you hadn’t been caught … if you hadn’t let Scaramouche defeat you and take you prisoner we wouldn’t have to do this. But you’re a threat to our plans only as long as you can back it up, so we have to show you just how powerless you really are.” 

As if you really needed to have that demonstrated to you like this! 

Indignantly squawking, you try to push yourself upright to sit but Arlecchino is quick to grab your shoulder with a clawed hand and shove you back down. Even realizing for the upteenth time that you were thoroughly at their mercy like this, you still weakly kick your legs in the air in an attempt to dissuade anyone from slipping between them again. 

But Childe just shuffles forward to grab your ankles easily enough despite the flailing, forcing them to bend towards your chest as he steps right up against you. The front of his pants presses into  your bare cunt like this and you immediately squeal at the weight of him pushing in on your body. For a split second you almost don’t believe it. That he would really get this achingly stiff from watching you be defiled by other men, but he was young and hot blooded enough that it made a certain amount of sense. Of course the fight to subdue and dominate would get him worked up. 

“Mmffhhh!” 

“Shh, shh. Just relax, Traveler. I promise I won’t hurt you, okay?” 

That hardly makes you feel any better as you screw your eyes shut and turn your head away so you don’t have to watch Childe reach down to free himself from his slacks. In truth, you would have otherwise been happy to sleep with him but not like this. Just not like this! 

“Oh, isn’t that cute.” Pantalone purrs from somewhere just to your left, chuckling a soft laugh under his breath. “I think our little guest is getting emotional now.” 

“As expected.” Dottore agrees with him, also laughing at your expense. 

“Here.” Arlecchino suddenly says, prompting you to blink through the rising sting of tears at her. You’re more than slightly taken aback to find her holding a long, dark strip of cloth in front of your face and you whimper up at her in question. “This should help. Deep breaths now, sweet dove. That’s it. Just relax.” 

You realize she’s going to blindfold you as she starts to bring it closer but there’s absolutely nothing you can do to stop it, mewling a helpless sound while she works to tie it off at the back of your head. With the loss of your eyesight comes an even greater perception of your hearing and you listen to Childe fumble between your legs as your neck lolls back against the table. There was certainly comfort to be found in the impenetrable darkness but it doesn’t do much to ease the nausea inducing anxiety in your gut. In fact, it actually seems to make it worse. 

But you don’t even have the ability to tell her you don’t want it when your mouth is still thoroughly gagged, and you pitifully jump when Childe finally reaches down to take hold of your hips. Dragging you closer to the edge of the table, he takes a moment to press his cock into the seam of your body again, this time without anything standing in the way, and he just basks in the sticky heat coming off you for a drawn out beat. 

You understand in a far off, dreamy sort of way that this was really going to happen and your powerlessness to stop it soon has the tears breaking free to soak into the cloth around your eyes. 

“I’m sorry, Traveler.” He says again, one last time before the fleshy drag of his cock head angles down to your entrance where he slowly starts to push in. 

You plaintively squawk at the pressure on your already sore and abused cunt, fiercely shuddering underneath him as he leans his weight into you to help ease himself inside. The worst part is that he’s far from small and he stretches you out even more than Dottore’s fingers had, but at least he’s gentle about it where The Doctor certainly had not been. It’s a small consolation in this nightmarish scenario, and even for as much as you appreciate it you can’t quite seem to stop your chest from frantically heaving with the labored gasps you suck in through your nose. 

And he sensitively groans over you, clearly trying to stifle the sound but your enhanced hearing picks up on it anyway. You didn’t doubt his feelings on the matter were not dissimilar to yours, yet he doesn’t stop. He just keeps reaching deeper and deeper into your body until he at last settles his pelvis against yours with a rattling breath and you positively squirm where he’s got you impaled on him. Your arms were already long numb from laying on top of them for so long with the circulation to your hands impeded by the too tight rope, but they still scream in protest at your restless fidgeting. 

“Burn everything, that’s a tight fit.” Childe murmurs, breathless and stretched thin. 

He stiffly hovers you for another moment, no doubt trying to find his bearings, which you were admittedly glad for the chance it gives your pussy to adjust to his size. But then, he’s moving against you, experimentally rolling his hips at first and that quickly turns into a halting, unevenly cantered thrusting motion that makes your tits start to bounce with the force. The sensation of your painfully stiff nipples cutting through the air is a stark one, prompting you to dramatically arch your back in a vain bid to stop them from moving so much. 

It fails, of course, and you hear Scaramouche suck in a faint breath that he doesn’t actually need from the right side of the softly creaking table. You weren’t entirely sure what his fascination with your tits was about, but you weren’t convinced it was anything good. 

“She likes it.” The Captain announces rather abruptly, reminding you that he was standing off to the back of the gathered assembly to disinterestedly watch the proceedings. You can’t help thinking that was probably for the best, as you really did not want to find out how big someone of his size was firsthand. 

Worst of all, you were ashamed to admit that he was right. Despite all the rough treatment and the less than ideal circumstances, your pussy was indeed warming up to the stretch of Childe’s cock inside you, and tingly little sparks of pleasurable friction were beginning to light up all of the nerve endings in a potent rush. Oh, this could not be happening right now. 

“I think she’d like it more if you put your back into it.” Dottore drawls, adding his two mora even though no one had asked him. Of everyone here, you found him to be perhaps the most insufferable of all. 

Grunting a masculine sound, Childe distractedly shifts against you to presumably glance over at The Doctor. “Hey, this isn’t supposed to be a spectator sport, you know. If I’d wanted your — ooughn, your commentary, I would have said so.” 

“Well, I for one think you’re doing a spectacular job.” Pantalone chimes in, the condescending note in his otherwise pleasant voice making a self conscious shudder work down your spine. 

“Damn. Just be quiet! All of you.” Hunching further over your prone frame, Childe wraps his fingers around your ribcage so he can nudge you down to meet the rhythmic push of his narrow hips. It hadn’t taken him long to fall into a natural, even paced tempo that makes the meaty smack of his skin colliding with yours ring loud in the room. 

You can also pick up the sticky clicks coming from your cunt each time he drives into you, carving out a space for himself and forcing your squeezing cunt to take him, again and again. It’s humiliating to realize just how wet you were getting, all the more so when you knew at least half of it was because of that damned Doctor. 

For better or worse Childe doesn’t seem to take any offense, or at least his body doesn’t, and he quickly begins to lose himself in the tight clutch between your legs. The initially tentative thrusts turn quick and desperate, his hips taking over for his higher functioning mind to instinctively guide him towards the finish line. You can tell, just as the others likely can, that he’s not very experienced when it comes to this particular activity, and you almost find yourself feeling thankful for that when his hushed grunts soon take on a dire tinge. This part of your humiliation at least would be over sooner rather than later. 

“How cute.” The Balladeer snips, clearly unimpressed with the effort of his colleague but Childe deliberately ignores him. 

He’s much too caught up in chasing his release now to pay them any mind, your breath hitching in your throat when his fingers start to subconsciously dig deeper into your sides. He was getting close and, you were beyond mortified to realize, your own arousal was steadily ratcheting up as well to nearly keep pace with his. The tension in your guts was tortuous but you don’t quite make it to the breaking point before he heaves a sensitive sound and yanks himself back, once again leaving your pussy to impotently squeeze around nothing. 

You can tell by the sharp, seething hiss he lets out that he’s cumming — probably straight into his waiting hand, if you had to guess — and a dizzying rush of numb relief immediately crashes over you. At least you probably didn’t have to worry about him getting you pregnant. Aside from Pantalone you weren’t so sure about the others, if they even had seed that could take in your womb, but you were glad for Childe’s foresight on the matter all the same. It seemed he still cared about you on some level. 

“Bah!” Dottore suddenly exclaims, making you jolt in surprise. “Get out of the way, Tartaglia. I should have known better than to leave this to you. What’s the point in it if you don’t even leave your mark on her?” 

A brief shuffle of bodies starts up by your feet, the two of them no doubt trading places again, but you’re distracted by a pair of hands carefully touching your head. You give a fearful little start only to realize it must be Arlecchino, given the sharp claws, and you whimper a soft sound when she nudges your neck up to get at the tie keeping your gag in place. It takes you a prolonged moment to understand that she’s going to remove it from your mouth, your heart galloping out of control as you suck in a harried breath. 

Thank the stars! Your jaw felt like it would never work right again after being wedged open for so long. 

“Watch and learn, boy.” The Doctor says ruefully from somewhere down by the foot of the table but you hardly have the presence of mind to focus on him right now. 

The strip of bamboo finally loosens and you weakly work to spit it out as Arlecchino reaches around to pluck it from between your swollen lips. You suck in your first real, full breath of air in a very long time when she pulls it away, feeling dizzy and more than a little nauseous from the head rush. 

You’re still gingerly working your jaw to try and restore some of the feeling to the numb joints when she carefully angles your head back against the solid wood, holding you in place as if to make sure you can’t escape. 

“Wha -“ 

She’s suddenly kissing you, smothering your mouth with hers to swallow the squawk of surprise you let out. There was some part of you that has assumed she wouldn’t touch you, either by virtue of not being attracted to another woman or because she would have no need for the boys’ leftovers once they were through, but she’s managed to successfully catch you off guard. 

Perhaps even more concerning is the fact you slowly start to kiss her back, coaxed into it by the steady, demanding push and pull of her painted lips. There’s something in the way she works her mouth over yours that begets compliance and you’re hardly in any position to fight it. 

Until, that is, you feel Dottore line himself up with your entrance, the fleshy brush of his glans against slick creases and folds causing you to startle. Rattling a vicious sound, you yank your mouth away from Arlecchino’s to turn your face up at The Doctor even though you couldn’t see him through the blindfold. You know he’s there though and that frightens you perhaps more than anything else at the moment, but The Knave merely slides one of her elegant hands forward to wrap it around your neck. 

“Little Traveler,” She softly hums at you, giving your throat a brief squeeze. “Are you so frightened of my colleague here that you think you can forget about me?” 

You give your head a mute shake, struggling just to keep your lungs expanding as Dottore roughly enters you with a quick snap of his hips that seems to sink him about halfway inside. The only indication you have that he’s not quite finished yet is the rumbling sound he issues before leaning further into you, feeding even more of his cock into your pussy, and you choke at the sensation of being stretched open in a completely different way than before. You didn’t think he was necessarily bigger than Childe, but the shape of him … 

“Uwa - aaaah!” 

“Hush, girl. This is no way for a warrior to face their enemy in defeat.” 

The sound of The Captain’s voice suddenly right beside you alarms you a great deal, and you blindly push back on Arlecchino’s hold with a frantic little sound. Anything but him. Anyone but him! 

The Knave firmly keeps you in place though no matter how wildly you try to thrash yourself free, keeping your head slightly elevated while Dottore begins to fuck into you with quick, demanding thrusts that seem to knock something loose within you. Your pussy positively gushes around him, loudly sucking at his length each time he angles his hips back now, but you’re a bit too distracted by the sensation of something massive leaning over you to give him your attention right now. 

It must be The Captain getting right up in your face, of that you were almost certain. Oh, how you wished you could see what was going on. But when you try to work your mouth to ask Arlecchino to remove the blindfold, all that comes out are tiny, breathless little moans that Dottore forces up your throat each time he sinks himself in you straight down to the hilt. You couldn’t even get your tongue to formulate a single word now that you were actually capable of speaking. Dammit. 

“I expected better from you.” Capitano rumbles, making you uncontrollably shake when you realize he seemed to be hovering mere inches from your nose. What was he — “I usually have no interest or need for such activities, but I can see now that you haven’t been taught this particular lesson yet. You need to learn from a more accomplished warrior before you are set loose again.” 

You’re not entirely sure what he’s talking about but then you feel something slimy, long and snake-like reach out to flick over your cheek and you practically wretch in disgust. Was that a tongue? 

“Do you understand why I brought you here now, Traveler?” Scaramouche purrs almost directly into your ear, so close you can feel his lips just barely brushing against your skin. You can’t help the gasp you suck in at his unexpectedly close proximity only to immediately choke on it, teeth gnashing when his hand comes up to idly pull at one of your nipples again. He was a relentless thing!  “If she doesn’t already, she will soon enough.” Pantalone softly adds to further make your head spin. It seemed like there were too many voices and sounds coming from all around you, your overwhelm only exacerbated by the constant drilling of Dottore’s cock into you. It was too much and you felt like you were going to be sick. “After all, we have to wait for Her Majesty to decide her final verdict so we’ve got plenty of time to ensure she understands. Don’t worry though, Traveler. We’ll make sure to take good care of you while you’re here.”

⭐

Crossposted: here

[thoughtsonkm]

Goodbye, for now

BABY? HONEY? BOYFRIEND SHOT? Jikook you're too much!

This episode was truly the best way to end the show, maybe even the best episode of the series. (Neck in neck with episode 2 of course) The way they enjoyed it so much but were also so sad it was over. The hot tension all around, the soft boyfriends mood who can't stop flirting and name calling each other with the most low-key couple-like sweet names. They could not stop laughing, they could not stop touching and they couldn't stop being hilarious without even trying.

~

SK Spotify daily chart end of November 2023 :

Jimin Jungkook Jimin Jungkook Jimin Jimin

~

It would be such a full circle moment if Jimin posted the boyfriend photo (which won't happen). Would almost be like a soft launch of some sort.

Not the underwear too?? Gosh I love my little gay freaks!! (didn't understand why Jimin would quote their 'yet another inner joke meme' right at that moment but I've learned to not question their inner workings)

~

Sorry but i have to be pretty one last time and say that I kinda had enough of seeing so much from the crew around or even in Jikook's shots and angles. It breaks the fourth wall a little too much and ruins the whole bubble idea. Ok I'm done lol

~

Returning to the issue at hand, the "seeing the beds for the first time" scene keeps getting funnier and funnier. As if they don't already have designated sides of the bed 😏

~

Ah the never ending bickering gives me life. Peep the half korean half english talk when they playfully get on each others nerves 👀😂

I better not speak on the scuzzi jacuzzi shenanigans cause otherwise.. Let's just say the photo speaks for itself..

NO YOU KNOW WHAT IMMA SPEAK. We all know that jacuzzi time is always intimate, relaxing and personal for people that's why I wish Jikook had enjoyed it fully without cameras. Yes I'm pissed on their behalf, that they had to film the whole thing with 382929 different angles. lol

His face is literally saying "oh so you're really gonna make me do it huh? if I was in your place I would've folded immediately and would've never let you go through with it!!" 😂

~

No one ever:

Jikook every 2sec : HONEY OH HONEY

(I was actually listening to the song while writing this and idk why it's so funny to me even tho it's a sad love ballad)

~

They must've loved getting the chance to at least see one episode of the show, plus the idea of watching it together..

Jungkook being so entertained by it meanwhile Jimin being mortified about half of the things that happened. HILARIOUS

HAHAHHAHAHA all parties were concerned if they'd be able to pull it off, I can't

BEST BELIEVE they're always gonna find a way to touch. Consciously or unconsciously.

~

This show made me realize that my favourite thing ever is Jk making food for Jimin, then making him hysterically laugh and therefore getting to hear Jimin's adorable giggles.

~

"Hello it is I the one and only, the only one who can touch Jimin's head ble ble ble ble" - JK

Jk was like: How can you imagine Jimin without me in your dream? Are you crazy? What is this delusional dream world you live in Jin hyung??

~

Tbh it's so meaningful and a huge thing saying that these trips were literally the best trips of your life. I think the statement almost went over people's heads.

I can't get enough of Jimin looking pretty and cuddly and Jungkook's immediate thought being: I HAVE TO FILM YOU

Them saying they can do a reboot when they come back gave me some hope that maybe just maybe this is not the end of AYS 😭

The ending bonus clip left me fulfilled but also sad and with goosebumps all over.

Thank you Jimin & Jungkook for letting us peek into this trip and getting to witness some of your precious moments.

Signing off, J&J 🥹

Ps. So I'm guessing the 52 minute video that comes with the photobook is probably the 3 bts videos combined that they've been reviewing for 48392 months right?

[allfearstofallto]

may i ask for scara for B, G, H, Q, T ? :0

(no pressure 🎀)

-🫧anon

ALL THE PRESSURE BESTIE! I ALREADY HAD A COUPLE OF THESE WRITTEN, CAUSE GUESS WHAT?? IM A SIMP!!

Anyways, thanks for the request, bubbles!! I threw in a couple extra (the ones I wrote already) just to thank you (no other reason).

TW: mentions of self harm (very slight, I promise)

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Willing and able, Scaramouche can and has killed for you. Once out of protection and the other time as a warning. Blood on his hands means nothing to him and to him, any human life except for yours, is expendable.

The way you look at him after does make him falter a little, there's a genuine fear in your eyes. It's a visceral look that only those truly afraid of death can show, and thus he did choose not to commit such acts in front of you anymore, but that doesn't mean they don't happen.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

His heart is a closed lock box that will probably never be opened. Vulnerability is a weakness and he refuses to be weak, especially around you, who will use anything to your advantage to get away.

But there are times where his walls will fall. Times when he's not the balladeer, or number six, or even Scaramouche. There are times when he's just a scared, confused puppet.

He's only shed tears in front of you once. In the dead of night, his voice was soft. You asked him, not as a captive, but as a person, “why are you doing this to me?” And his response was a single tear, a moment of weakness, a moment where he lost himself.

That tear was wiped away as quickly as it fell and he was back to his usual demeanor, cursing himself for such shortcomings.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

While he hates to admit it, his love is anything but a game. To him, this is blatantly serious, and any attempt to escape is an attack against him personally.

Your escape attempts aren't cute, nor are they funny. He's done all of this for you, yet you don't want it? You don't want him? It's not fun having to drag you back after you try to get away, but the sight of you begging to him on your knees for forgiveness, that was exciting.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

The day he took you, was the worst day of your life. The day you met him was the day you ruined your life, but the day he took you was the day your life truly ended.

You still had nightmares about that day, waking up in a cold sweat and having to look at the reason for all your fears. He slept peacefully while your chest heaved and sweat dripped down your face.

The doors to your home, the windows, any place that a person could get in, someone forced their way through. Your house was swarmed with armed Fatui guards,all of them big, strong, and holding weapons. Fighting back was barely an option against Scaramouche, even with a vision, but against all of them together, you knew you stood no chance.

Grabbed and pulled out of your door, you kicked, screamed, begged, and cried. Anything you could think of as they dragged you to a carriage. His carriage. Where he sat waiting for you, a nonchalant look on his face.

If you knew that that'd be the last time you'd seen your home, you would've looked at it harder.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

The only thing that would ever keep you away from Scaramouche is death itself, but even the solace of that is one that you won't be able to enjoy.

When he takes you, you are his and his alone. He won't allow you to run away or even harm yourself. He views you as something he owns and treasures, hurting it would be hurting something that he loves.

If you do manage to get away, what a smart, but stupid thing you are. There is nowhere he won't find you and nowhere he isn't willing to go to get you back. You'd never be safe for a second, running to the ends of the earth. Life would be constantly looking over your shoulder and lacking trust in anything and everyone. It would make you ask if leaving was even worth it? If what you were doing now, constantly on the run, was even living?

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Tears are a sign of weakness, he knows that best. Maybe that's why he takes pity on you when you cry. His harsh exterior can be melted slightly by your little sobs and begging, but that doesn't mean you'll get your way. But even you have noticed that his punishments are a bit softer when you've cried and his touch becomes oh so much gentler.

Slinking away from his touch does cause a pain in his chest though. Knowing that you despise him so much, you don't even want him near you anymore. These are quick ways to get him to calm down slightly, a type of reaction that lightens the blow of his usual attitude.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

You are a smart thing, aren't you? You'll learn eventually. Compliance is his biggest weakness, you doing and acting as you're told actually makes him trust you. It takes time of course, but act right for long enough and suddenly he's less irritable and more complacent with you as well.

The straw that really breaks the camel's back is begging. Scaramouche needs you, he won't say it, but he does, and he wants you to need him too. Say that he's the only one who can do something for you, and suddenly he's practically putty in your hands. Beg sweetly enough and that hard exterior will crumble. All it takes is a saccharine spoken, “Please, my lord."