#I kinda remember the title being longer

[theshadowrealmitself]

OOF apparently that new movie Chris Pine is in needs some serious trigger warnings, careful y’all!!!!

[jewishvitya]

I remembered this essay from years ago when I was unlearning what I knew of Israel and zionism and I couldn't find it again, and now I see it in a Shaun video, with the source.

Ze'ev Jabotinsky, "The Iron Wall." I downloaded it from the Jabotinsky Institute.

These are the titles he gave this essay:

I said that Zionist leaders explicitly talked about Zionism as a colonialist movement. This is an example of what I was talking about.

Some quotes:

There can be no voluntary agreement between ourselves and the Palestine Arabs. Not now, nor in the prospective future. I say this with such conviction, not because I want to hurt the moderate Zionists. I do not believe that they will be hurt. Except for those who were born blind, they realised long ago that it is utterly impossible to obtain the voluntary consent of the Palestine Arabs for converting "Palestine" from an Arab country into a country with a Jewish majority.

My readers have a general idea of the history of colonisation in other countries. I suggest that they consider all the precedents with which they are acquainted, and see whether there is one solitary instance of any colonisation being carried on with the consent of the native population. There is no such precedent.

He's saying openly: no land was colonized with the consent of its indigenous population. So we have to do it without that consent.

Every native population in the world resists colonists as long as it has the slightest hope of being able to rid itself of the danger of being colonised.

That is what the Arabs in Palestine are doing, and what they will persist in doing as long as there remains a solitary spark of hope that they will be able to prevent the transformation of "Palestine" into the "Land of Israel."

He said that any zionist who depends on the Arab population accepting a Jewish state on their lands, might as well withdraw from zionism because that's impossible.

Zionist colonisation must either stop, or else proceed regardless of the native population. Which means that it can proceed and develop only under the protection of a power that is independent of the native population – behind an iron wall, which the native population cannot breach.

And then he says that this Iron Wall is the British Mandate and the Balfour Declaration - they're the power that stops Palestinians from resisting us.

He says that despite this, zionism is moral and just, so justice must be done, zionism must move forward. He just wants to be honest about what it takes. He wants to discourage talks of an agreement to avoid signaling to the British that they must try to reach one between us and Palestinians. Just stop them from fighting us, we'll colonize the place.

Zionism was openly colonialist until this language was no longer politically useful.

Editing because I was kinda shocked by the response this got, in several moments. When the slavery of US founders was brought up to dismiss this whole thing. When First Nations reservations were brought up on the same list as the United States as equivalent to Israel, because I said I oppose the existence of a country that prioritizes one ethnic group at the expense of others, and I support democracy that protects everyone equally.

But another thing that's still nagging at me is the idea that this whole essay can be dismissed based on semantic arguments, like sure this uses the word colonialism, but is it actually the colonialism that we talk about and oppose? And what if this word is only used to appeal to the British for support?

This isn't the the first time that prominent zionist thinkers talk about zionism as a colonialist movement. I saw it in old publications, things like magazines, I'd be posting them too if I found them again. I did my own deconstructing years ago, I don't remember where I found all my sources.

I do remember that they talked about the two concepts together - the idea that we're here to colonize, and that we're here to come home. So nowadays there's the arguement that people can't colonize their own homeland, but to them there was no contradiction. I saw it again looking at Herzl's diary last night.

I say I define colonialism through actions and tactics, through the harm that's done to the victims of colonization. Because if we knowingly repeated the actions of colonizers and used the help of an imperial force to conquer a land, having a historic connection to it shouldn't absolve us.

Jabotinsky didn't write to the British in this essay. He wrote to other zionists who wanted to aim for something more collaborative with Palestinian Arabs. And it's true that word choice can mean different things in the context of the time, but there's a reason I chose those quotes. What is he actually saying in this essay?

Consider colonization throughout history - the native population never agreed, so we must do the as colonizers did in the past.

Palestinians will never agree to a Jewish state - so we must do it by force. We should use an imperial force as an "iron wall" to prevent them from resisting. Stop talking about an agreement because then the British will try to reach one instead of holding them back and letting us do our thing.

He's comparing the zionist movement to other efforts of colonization, to talk about emulating them.

This isn't a game of semantics. I'm not just bringing this up just because he used the words.

What he's describing - conquest by force, preventing a Palestinian state, forcibly creating a Jewish majority - is what happened. And it's still what's happening.

This is the branch of zionism that went into practice and founded Israel.

[sixosix]

THAWED | LYNEY X FEM!READER SERIES

THAWED (MASTERLIST) — the lyney childhood-enemies-to-frenemies-to-lovers-kinda series that no one asked for, ft. fluff, a whole lot of bickering, flirting, and everything in between

STATUS. mostly updates on sundays!

OTHER INFO.

DISCLAIMER. will contain spoilers. this series will be as dark as genshin lore can be, and this won’t strictly follow genshin’s actual lore—i’ll be making up a lot of stuff for the sake of the fic so there will be inaccuracies, NOT CANON COMPLIANT!! the timeline of events will be vastly different. each chapter will have their own warnings as well, so keep an eye out for that!

NOTES. hello, everyone !!!!!!! welcome to my lyney series inspired by taylor’s reputation album. how it works is each chapter will be titled after each song off of the album as u can see below,,, hope u enjoy reading as excited i am for rep tv!! :D

tysm to naosaki and kruinka for helping me brainstorm w this fic (and also helping me when i was visibly all over the place because of this series)

CHAPTERS.

i — are you ready for it?

The House of the Hearth was perfect. This was where you thrived—where no one else could take this feeling away. But then Lynette became a part of the ‘family’, and with it, she dragged along Lyney.

ii — i don’t wanna hurt you (i just wanna be)

You look more like a soldier than an orphan, Lyney thinks. It’s beautiful in all the wrong ways.

iii — you gotta leave before you get left

Desperately, Lyney melts them away, but your footsteps have already gone out of earshot. It’s an answer in itself: Don’t bother. Take the hint, Lyney; you already messed it up.

iv — for you i would fall from grace

“What now? What do you want me to do? Strut back into their lives and demand all their Fatui secrets as if I never left?”

Aether nestles into his seat. “Prove to me that I can trust them just as much as you do. Who knows, you might get something out of this, too.”

v — you must like me for me

Lyney laughs. It sounds like music that has haunted you for years—and with a new one playing, it’ll torment you for years more. He loosens his grip but keeps you caged in, still. You’re twirled around to face him, and something about his expression has you swallowing thickly.

“You’re even more stunning than I remember, ma chérie.”

vi — look what you made me do

You frown at him, your face upside down in his view. “That was unfair.”

“I have to be if I want to beat you.”

vii — all eyes on you, my magician

He doesn’t take his eyes off you, even once when his fingers reached out to fish out a champagne flute. Lyney still has that stupid smile on his face, the rim of his glass against his lips. You’re hit with the startling realization that you want to kiss him.

Fuck, what?

viii — you’ve ruined my life, by not being mine

“You’re so warm,” you murmur to his skin.

Goosebumps blossom all over his body. Your face brushes against the side of his neck. “Do you hate it?”

“I like it. My hands are cold. Every part of you is warm.”

ix — us traitors never win

Lyney knew that this would happen. He knew well enough to predict what ‘Father’ would make them do, but still—

“We understand,” Lynette says, her eyes darting down to Lyney’s clenched fists.

The Knave stares at Lyney, and the strength of her stare has Lyney lowering his eyes to the floor. “Do you?” she asks. They wisely stay silent: Lynette’s hesitance and Lyney’s frustration. “Then I trust this won’t happen any longer.”

x — king of my heart, body and soul

You bit back the bite of ice and wondered how ironic it was that every time your Vision acted out, it was, more often than not, tied to Lyney.

“What, so you expect me to believe you’d just go against your ‘Father’ like that?”

more chapter previews soon...!

thawed related tags you might want to check out:

#thawed fanart <3

#thawed memes i want to hang in a museum

of course, if you want to check out akagi's series of mind boggling fanart:

#akagi0021 carrying the entirety of thawed

FANART COMPILATION

our favorite akagi0021 has been blessing me with THAWED fanart (!!!) and i decided that i need to compile all of them for me and to make YOU see the art as well... BECAUSE THEY'RE ALL SO GOOD (with permission of course)

CH 1 | reader's new outfit reveal

CH 2 | lyney doesn’t know how he looks at reader

lyney and MC height difference before/after IM ON MY KNEES theyre so cute

CH 4 | aether and paimon confronting reader

bonus fanart of lyney and reader after training :(( so cute

CH 5 | lyney seeing reader!!!!!! aahhh his eyes

lyney as a kid and then lyney now (grown up) THIS ONE IS INSANE. little lyney is so adorable but then look at the lyney now

CH 6 | LOOK AT THIS ONE!! scene of lyney saying “she’s hiding something” except akagi made him unnecessarily sexy wtf

CH 7 | drunk reader driving lyney crazy... (i went crazy)

CH 8 | "lyney's not my boyfriend" ; the ending scene with childe, aether, and reader!! they all look so good T__T

CH 10 | lyney's "i would. i would for you" OUGH YESS

++ ADDITIONAL!!!

and look at this so so so adorable collection of doodles of chapter six by sunny @emanami !!! her artstyle is to live for its SO cute (look at the siblings!!!)

more of sunny's cute drawings: thawed!mc biting lyney's cheek like what i want to do

look at @lacrimae-lotos's version of mc!!!! SO CUTE look at her piercings and her eyes aahhhh

akagi's art dump from different chapters | theyre all so cutue im sobbing i love akagis mc and lyney so much T__T (LYNEY BRAIDING MC'S HAIR)

lyney doing the stretch tactic ohh he is so slick modern au with akagi's thawed!mc and lyney at the beach i fainted

++ LOOK AT AKAGI'S VERSION OF MC! shes so lovely

design headcanons (theyre all so precious)

akagi's reader as a genshin char !!

reader's outfit for chapter seven SO PRETTY

thawed!mc's eyepatch lore... aether is so silly

akagi's au where mc never left the house and they're enemies to lovers yes yes yes yesyse

HOW TO JOIN THE TAGLIST.

just ask through my inbox!!! and make sure that people can tag you pls!!

© SIXOSIX 2024. all rights reserved. do not repost or reproduce any part of this work.

[elusivecagedmockingbird]

Still Untitled

[jungkook x reader] [ 1k+ fluff]

A/N: Something short and sweet. I initially wrote a lil bit of smut, but it came out a bit perverted and I don't think it fits the character of Jungkook in this fic. I still have no title for this, but I'm so glad to receive such great lovely feedback!

Untitled

-

Before you can talk yourself out of it, your feet are walking towards Jungkook.

A breathy and meek hi leaves your mouth, the sudden greeting has him turning around to face you. Before you can backtrack, your hand extends to offer a carton of banana milk to Jungkook.

You're not sure if you're glad he's being super quiet, but wanting to get this done in one go, the words swiftly fly out of your mouth.

"I'mreallysorryaboutlastnightImistookyouforsomeoneelse," you expel in one shaky breath.

Jungkook looks perplexed, probably unsure what to make of the sudden apology, you assume. You were contemplating if you needed to elaborate, but as soon as Jungkook took the milk from your hands, hesitantly—you observed—your legs were quick to find their way back to your space and hide behind your propped up easel.

Had you stayed a second longer, you would have witnessed Jungkook break out a childish grin and blush. His hold on the carton was so gentle, one would have thought he was holding something far too fragile than a drink.

-

The class had passed quickly, which you were thankful for, for the first time. As soon as the clock hit 5:00, you rushed to bag your stuff—no plans of staying extra hours for today. You're still mortified from yesterday and while you don't think a lousy apology makes up for your misplaced accusation, you also don't have the courage of facing Jungkook.

At least, not now, you reason to yourself. Promising to scrape more courage for next time.

In your haste of leaving, you forgot to unhook the strap of your tote from the chair and as you lug your bag behind you as you speed walk, the chair topples and your things tumble out and scatter to the floor, much like the smithereens of your dignity.

A whispered curt curse is heard from you before you rush to pick up the rolling colored pencils.

"Here," Even with your head downcast and eyes glued to the floor, you know whose tattooed hands are handing your pencils towards you.

"Thanks," you clear your throat and glance at the man you wronged. "I got it," you softly say, a subtle way of shoo-ing him away, once again.

You stood up abruptly after shoving everything inside your bag. You see Jungkook lift the chair upright and thank him. You get a response in the form of a smile.

You made three streps before you heard your name called. With obvious reluctance, you face Jungkook and raise your brow in question. Afraid if you open your mouth, something judgmental comes out. Or maybe just that you choke from the clawing embarrassment.

"Do you wanna get coffee?" Jungkook adjusts his backpack on his shoulder. This time, he's taking Namjoon's advice. Just ask her to go out, even if it's just getting coffee after her class. It's a better way to get to know each other. Pick up lines are lame, his hyung said which earned a loud yelp of disagreement from Seokjin. Still, Jungkook thinks Namjoon made more sense.

Plus, he remembers those times whenever he sees you on campus, you always held a cup of coffee. And today, before class, he noticed you had nothing with you other than milk—which even turned out to be for him. He'd get all giggly later, for now, he has a bigger daunting task.

Throughout the class, Jungkook was internally hyping himself up to ask you for coffee. He almost felt pathetic when he saw you quickly pack your things and rush out, already thinking he'll have to run after you. But lo and behold, the universe bought him time.

"I-It's kinda late for coffee, don't you think?" You covered your uneasiness by clearing your throat and pretending to look at your watch. It was too quick of a glance to read the time, he notices. He knows you're evading him. Panic rushes into Jungkook. While on good days, he prided himself for thinking on his feet—those days helped him win rebuts with Seokjin—this moment would have been the one time where the words he uttered couldn't be more nonsensical and embarrassing, "Well, drinking coffee before bed will keep you awake at night is a myth, anyway." The words trailed off one by one as it reached the end, but you heard him loud and clear.

You were to quick to mask your visible confusion by pursing your lips, as if considering what he just said. But Jungkook knows how stupid he sounded. There was no redemption from this.

But just when Jungkook was ready to wave the white flag, he heard you snort a laugh. He looks up and sees your lips break out in a grin—one you tried to hide with an adorable nose scrunch, but your amusement still shone through with a tight-lipped smile. Then, finally, you look at Jungkook and this moment, he'll forever remember because you're looking at him with adoring eyes.

"Fine, then," you agree, lips still toying an amused smile. "Since you're so desperate for coffee you're making stuff up. But I'm getting a decaf."

Your turn and walk towards the approaching evening, and Jungkook follows suit with a lovesick smile.

-

"Wait... you thought I was Kim Jongkook?!"

You sheepishly smile, your fingers on the table scratches the surface, an anxiety tick. But you also look like someone desperately digging for a hole where you can escape to. You want to be away from this awkward confrontation where you have no excuse, no rebut.

“It really was an honest mistake. I’m sorry for lashing out on you.” Your head hangs with shame as you apologize for the nth time.

Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook noticed and took note of your tick. He really was just teasing you, enjoying your adorable puppy eyes, even more so that it's directed towards him. But perhaps, he had his fun. He smiles and comforts you—saying it’s fine and he understands. Right as you look up at him, your names are called for your ordered coffees.

In the same breath which he decides he wants to always be this close with you, he's also unsure how much he can hold back from wanting to just kiss you. And so, as much as Jungkook didn't want to break away from the moment, he stands from his seat, “I’ll get it. Just… you won’t leave, right?”

You would think he was teasing, making a jab from the couple of times you walked out from him, but seeing his pensive eyes had you retracting your assumption. “I’ll be here,” you smile reassuringly.

-

Your trip for coffee, but as per Jungkook's delusion—your date— lasted longer for hours. Small conversations were shared between the tiny round table that held your cups of drinks. No more hole-scratching on the table and downcast embarrassed eyes.

Jungkook thinks his heart may burst from happiness.

Unfortunately, your phone pings, breaking the bubble that enclosed you and Jungkook, one that temporarily kept you away from the outside noise. “Oh, sorry. That’s my alarm.” Your eyebrows furrow as you glance at your watch. This time, really looking at the time, Jungkook observes.

“I should be somewhere now, actually.” As you quickly gather your things, Jungkook matches your pace—grabbing your littered cups and tissues on the table, picking up the proof of your shared evening.

“This was really nice, Jungkook. I now partly feel bad for judging you too quickly,” you tease as you watch him trash the stacked cups.

“That’s not good enough,” Jungkook crosses his now free arms, biceps bulging that were not missed by your eyes. He sees the trail of your sight and that was just what he needed to be confident enough to ask for another coffee date. One that you agreed to without hesitation.

He grows giddy and excited. Wanting tomorrow—Thursday—to come sooner. He doesn't mind if the day ends quickly now as you part ways. And it isn’t until you round a corner that you both stop turning around to check on the other.

-

[weirdkpopgirl]

Cute | Haechan Imagine #9

Title: Cute

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: none really

Word Count: 668

Author's Note: I can clearly envision Haechan in a scenario like this. To be honest he's one of my favorite members from 7Dream to write for, and I'm glad to post more content of him on this blog. I'm sorry this imagine is kinda short and I personally don't think it's that great. But it was coming up with the idea was still fun. Hope you guys like it ^ ^

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

“You fell for me because I was cute?!”

The incredulity in his tone prompted you to blink in confusion, putting a brief pause to the mindless play with Haechan’s fingers. You sat nestled at the edge of the couch, cozied up between his legs as your back was supported by his steadily rising chest.

Your head turned slightly to meet his equally bewildered gaze. The expression he wore resembled that of someone who had just been deeply offended. This wasn’t exactly the reaction you anticipated when answering how you came to develop feelings for your boyfriend.

“Is that a problem?” you asked him skeptically. The male scratched his head with a sheepish smile on his face.

“No, I’m just surprised,” he replied, extending his hand to gesture with his fingers.“So let me get this straight. You didn’t like me for being handsome, cool, smart, or even funny. Instead, it was because I was cute?”

A soft chuckle escaped you, now amused by how he was in such disbelief. You sat up a little to face him better, so you could explain. “Well if we’re talking about first impressions, I found you kind of annoying because you were loud and joked around a lot.”

“Hey—” he started to protest before you held your pointer finger up to signal you had more to say.

“But I think it was the day you came alone to the cafê I was working at,” you continued, trying to recall the memory. “And remember how you got a brain freeze because you drank the smoothie I made for you too quickly? I don’t know, I just thought you looked cute.”

The boy beside you then covered his face with his hands, muttering, “Okay now that’s just embarrassing.”

Out of all his noteworthy moments that could have sparked interest in him, it was the one where he looked like an idiot.

You suppressed a chuckle, and gently brought his hands into yours. “Wait, I’m not finished yet.”

His deep brown eyes met yours, brimming with a blend of innocence and sulkiness. Gosh, he was even more endearing when he wasn’t trying to be. A warm smile stretched across your lips.

“It took about three months into our relationship for me to figure out that I loved you,” you admitted softly, nervously playing with his fingers again. “I realized that we’re both kind of emotionally closed off to people around us. But neither of us is afraid to be vulnerable with each other.”

Haechan could see the sparkle in your eyes as you expressed your fondness for him, and suddenly his eyes also glistened with emotion. 

“What is this? You weren’t supposed to get so serious,” he chuckled nervously.

A faint blush appeared across your cheeks, as you wiped the first tear from his cheek. Honestly, your heartstrings were also being tugged as you reminisced the memory of falling in love with Haechan.

“It’s true though. I’m so blessed to have you in my life, Hyuck.”

The tenderness in your voice only heightened his emotions. Sighing, he leaned his head back on the couch, trying to stop the tears from flowing. “Baby, if you say one more sweet thing, I might just burst,” he joked.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatics, the warmth continuing to fill the atmosphere. Gently, you brought his face to your level and planted a soft peck on his lips.

“Was that okay?” you asked playfully, already anticipating the teasing you were about to receive from him.

Unexpectedly, however, Haechan blinked at you for a few seconds as if he were in a daze. Then without further hesitation, he pulled you closer and crashed you into a longer, hungrier kiss that poured out all the love and emotion he felt in that moment. As you melted into each other’s embrace, you were once again reassured that the two of you were meant for each other.

Sigh. Haechan really was the cutest.

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

previous masterlist -> current masterlist

[silassinclair]

Hi!

Can I request Maddox with a darling who lives to read, maybe he catches her reading some old romance books in an abandoned house they shack up in or something like that

Btw I live your writing ♥️

As someone who loves to read I am obligated to write for this req 😤🫡 Thanks for the request tho!! Hope you like it :-)

Yandere Wild West Outlaw x Bookworm Reader

CW// Maddox is annoying, Reader being a little perv Masterlist Here!!

The new house Maddox found was lovely. It had decently okay furniture and a vast collection of old books on the shelf. It's small with only two bedrooms and one bathroom but it was charming. But what caught your interest was the big oak wood bookshelf. You couldn't even remember the last time you picked up a book. Being on the run with Maddox made time fly.

"Who would leave all these books behind? They're all in great condition." You mutter to yourself as you take a blue and purple book with gold trim off the shelf. Tracing your fingers down the spine of the hardcover novel you appreciate the craftsmanship. It was clearly expensive, something you could no longer afford. Your Dad bought you many books like these but now you were pretty much broke. You only had Maddox to rely on now.

Speaking of Maddox you had no clue where he was. Which you didn't really care, he always disturbed your peace. Cracking open the book you sit down on the loveseat and start reading. It was a romance book about a huntsman who fell in love with a duchess. The story was beautiful as it was exhilarating.

"Oh wow, you into that kinda stuff?"

You snap the book shut instantly, a mini cloud of dust poofs from the pages. Maddox chuckles huskily behind you, leaning down and resting his chin on the back of the loveseat.

"Oh don't be embarrassed princess, it was getting to the good part. What did it say again? Oh! Ahem-"

Maddox coughs into his hand and smirks. Deepening his voice he quotes the passage in a deep, British-like accent,

"He caresses the duchess' milky thighs, her womb felt of silk wrapped around his ma-"

"OH HUSH!" You whip around and smack the outlaw's head, his hat nearly flying off. But he only laughs at your flustered state.

"You're filthy." You groan and put the book back on the shelf where it was. But Maddox follows behind you and takes the book into his own hands and opens it up. Skimming through the pages he smirks.

"I'm filthy? Sweetheart you're the one readin' this junk." Maddox shuts the book and puts it back. Putting his hand up on the shelf he leans against it while looking down at your shorter self.

"Well it is a romance book." Rolling your eyes you choose a different book. This time you pick a title you're familiar with, Pride and Prejudice.

"Now leave me alone you brute. I'd like to relax for once." With that you walk away and go outside. Finding a nice tree you sit beneath it and read the book. Reading reminded you of home, the home that was ripped from you. In a way it was escapism which is unhealthy but a girl can dream right?

Hours pass and the sun begins to set, casting an orange glow across the cloudy sky. The words on the page become harder to read as the sun sinks lower and the moon rises. You didn't want it to end. You know you could read inside but that damn outlaw was inside. You just wanted to stay out here forever with the natural ambience of wind and birds.

Footsteps approach you and you already know who it is. Looking up you see him. Black denim jeans, a burgundy vest, twin revolvers around his waist, and a dark brown cowboy hat on his head. And of course that bandana covering the bottom half of his face. Anytime you asked him about his face he got ticked off so you avoided the subject. But you couldn't help but be curious.

"You're starin' sweetheart." His husky voice breaks the silence. There’s a hint of a Spanish accent mixed in with his Southern drawl. You can't help but think about what it would be like if you and him met under different circumstances. Would he save you from bandits? Offer to buy you a drink at the saloon?

Would you two have a storybook romance just like in the books you adore?

"Hey."

He's right in front of you now, crouched to your height. His gloved hand pets your hair and you're frozen. He has you in a trance that you make no effort to free yourself from. His dark amber eyes are crinkled in slight concern over your unusual silence.

"What..?" You say softly.

"It's gettin' dark. Unless you wanna be dinner for the coyotes then I suggest comin' back in. I'll cook up some beans so hurry your little bum up."

Well there goes the moment. You groan and get up off the grass, your back cracking as you stretch. Your eyes watch as Maddox walks back into the house. His hips sway as he walks, you never really payed attention to that before. His ass looks pretty round in those pants to-

"Ugh, what is wrong with me.." Groaning, you follow after him.

[plutoslvr]

Okay so in my last Kevin post, I mentioned I have analysis' on how Kevin isn't a coward and how his trauma still affects him and you guys wanted to read it so here!

Why Kevin Day Isn’t a Coward: 

Essentially this comes down to 3 specific points in the fandom and even in the books since people are very adamant about the whole coward thing. The two things that people (in book and fandom-wise) use to argue that Kevin is a coward are: 

Kevin is still afraid/ doesn’t stand up to Riko 

That he left Jean behind in the nest.

Starting off with the first point. Kevin is still afraid and doesn’t stand up to Riko for the majority of the books. Firstly, we need to understand that Kevin has been abused from an extremely young age in the Nest and was conditioned into thinking that kind of behaviour was normal. And by that I mean specifically Riko’s abuse but before that, it was Coach Moriyama that abused both of them. 

He was stuck in the Nest for over a decade where his only role was “property” the entire time. That was all he would ever be to them and additionally to that, he wasn’t even allowed to be better than Riko. His entire life from the very start has been about exy but it was only after his mothers death where it became life or death. 

During tfc when Neil finds out how Kevin’s hand really broke Wymack says “But the day Kevin stops playing forever is the day he dies. He has nothing else. He wasn't raised to have anything else. Do you understand? We cannot lose to the Ravens this year. Kevin won't survive it."

He wasn’t raised to have anything else, exy is quite literally his everything, and without it, he has nothing and nobody. In this same scene, Wymack says, “Kevin doesn't talk about his time at Evermore, but I could tell it wasn't the first time Riko or Moriyama laid a hand on him. It was just the first time Kevin was smart enough to pack his bags and walk away.”

We never find out in detail what exactly happened to Kevin in the Nest but in TRK when Neil goes there we can see how deluded and obsessed Riko is with Kevin.

Neil moved up alongside him and regretted it almost immediately. Postcards of faraway cities both foreign and domestic were taped to the walls. Beneath each one were scraps of paper. Kevin's now-familiar scrawl listed dates and explanations for the travels. Most of them were games. Some indicated photo shoots and interviews. Books lined the shelves built into the headboard and Neil knew from skimming the spines they were Kevin's. Kevin was majoring in history for reasons Neil couldn't understand; these dry titles were the sorts of things he would find fascinating. It gave Neil chills to see his space preserved like this. It was like Kevin had gone out on an errand, not that he'd transferred to another team entirely.

Riko is so sure that Kevin is going to come back to him because he’s instituted such fear into him, he doesn’t think Kevin has the strength to stand up to him. Which he does, but people don’t seem to realise you can’t undo over a decade's worth of trauma overnight. 

Anyway, during Neil’s time in the Nest, he’s treated very similarly to how Kevin would be considering he was in his place but also not as harsh because they had to send Neil back to the Foxes inevitably.

"I am going to love hurting you," Riko said, "like I loved hurting Kevin."

What follows this is Riko tying Neil down and torturing him with a switchblade. By the time Neil leaves the Nest he doesn’t remember anything from the experience- he was so traumatised by it that he doesn’t remember it at all. (It also kinda sucks how Neil gets more sympathy for being in the nest for 2 weeks than Kev did for being there for over a decade.)

Putting this into perspective, Kevin went through that for so much longer and doesn’t get nearly enough of the same sympathy Neil did. Neil returned and Kevin got punched for letting him go even though he tried persuading Neil not to. Kevin has always had Neil’s best interest at heart. 

Kevin shook his head and bulled on when Neil started to argue. "The master wants to salvage you. He's going to sign you to the Raven lineup in spring. So long as you keep quiet and keep your head down he won't tell the main family he's found you." "I'm not a Raven," Neil said. "I never will be." "Then run," Kevin insisted, low and frantic. "It's the only way you'll survive."

Kevin was willing to sacrifice the only chance he had to prove his autonomy to the Moriyamas if it meant Neil would be safe. Without Neil, they wouldn’t have enough players to qualify and they wouldn’t be able to play at all. (Again: “But the day Kevin stops playing forever is the day he dies. He has nothing else. He wasn't raised to have anything else. Do you understand? We cannot lose to the Ravens this year. Kevin won't survive it.")

Not to mention the whole “Kevin was silent for an endless minute, then said, "You should be Court." It was barely a whisper, but it cut Neil to the bone. It was a resentful goodbye to the bright future Kevin had wanted for Neil. Kevin recruited Neil because he believed in Neil's potential. He brought him to the Foxes intending to make a star athlete out of him. Despite his condescending attitude and his dismissals of Neil's best efforts Kevin honestly expected Neil to make the national team after graduation.

And even after that, he promised to teach Neil, because at the end of the day, Neil was still Neil and he never gave up on him once.

And Neil understood that being on the run for 8 years was more preferable to the Nest. 

“But all Neil had to do was look at Kevin to know he would have hated that life 

too.”

Sorry I kinda went off track there anyway we can also see how much Riko’s presence still affects Kevin especially in scenes like the Kathy Ferdinand show. 

“Any animosity Neil felt toward Kevin for forcing him onto this show evaporated. He couldn't be angry when Riko was here, not when Riko was to Kevin what Neil's father was to him. Petty anger had nothing on this full-fledged terror.”

Obviously, we all know what a dickhead Neil’s dad was to him so Neil comparing the fear of his father being similar to Kevin’s fear of Riko is so important because it just puts into perspective how afraid Kevin is here face-to-face with his abuser the first time since said abuser permanently disabled him.

But what I don’t think is that Kevin has been standing upto Riko since the start because right after this when they were backstage, Kevin physically stopped Riko from hurting Neil even if it meant getting hurt by Riko again.

A black look twisted Riko's expression into something ugly and unrecognizable. He reached for Neil, but Kevin caught his arm to stop him. Riko slammed his elbow back into Kevin's face without missing a beat.

This scene is probably the best to describe how downright afraid Kevin is of Riko but there are others when Kevin has multiple panic attacks at just the thought of Riko or being in the same vicinity as him and rightfully so! Riko abused him, manipulated him and then took away the only thing he had. And Kevin was just forced to think this was okay. 

And a lot of characters and fans see his fear as cowardice instead of a normal trauma response. This is also because Neil tends to speak out more against Riko than Kevin (You know I get it…) but unlike Neil, Kevin has had direct repercussions towards him for the “mistake” of talking back to Riko which of course makes him hesitant. 

He knows the Moriyamas could drag him back at any moment and he's terrified of that happening.

Which leads to the second bit of “Kevin doesn’t stand up to Riko.” when many times, he has.

The most prominent example is in TRK, just after the foxes lost their first match to the ravens.

“You have fallen so far, Kevin. You should have stayed down and saved us the trouble of forcing you back to your knees." "I'm satisfied," Kevin said. It was the last response any of the Foxes expected from him. They forgot about Riko in favor of gaping at Kevin. "Not with their score or performance, but with their spirit. I was right. There's more than enough here for me to work with."

Kevin chose the foxes over the ravens- over Riko. He doesn’t allow their loss to become something Riko can use against him but instead something to affirm his current standing with them. This is also the first game Andrew played without his meds meaning he’s crashed by the end of it.

Kevin distracted the Ravens from Andrew's unsteadiness by facing them.

Kevin willingly turned to talk to his ex-abuser and his team if it meant Andrew wouldn’t be under fire. Most people only see Kevin and Andrew as Andrew protecting Kevin but Kevin protected Andrew just as much.

And of course we have the whole tattoo removal and the last exy match against the foxes but I need everyone to understand that those are so so so important. Kevin spent the entire series save the last quarter of the last book viewing himself as Riko’s property. Riko refers to him as such and even without Riko near him, his control is still strong over Kevin.

So Kevin removing his tattoo and replacing it with something with a higher hierarchical structure than Riko’s status as king is so detrimental, it’s a turning point for him because he’s viewing himself as his own person now. And Kevin scoring the winning goal brings us full circle because the last time he did that with Riko, he ended up disabled and shunned.

This brings me to my second point about Kevin running away from the nest. Alot of people see Kevin escpaing from the nest and leaving behind Jean as an act of cowardice. This bit gets a bit complicated because in no way shape or form am I trying to compare trauma’s or anything like that.

But to continue on. The ravens had a very strict policy that we got to see during Neil's experience one of which being that no matter how injured they were, they were still expected to show up to practice. The more mistakes they made the more punishment they'd find themselves in. Not showing was practically a death wish.

Now Kevin having his hand fucking broken would mean thay either he doesn't practise and get punished or practise with his fucked up hand and further damage it. If he stayed I wholeheartedly believe he would've died.

He ran away to save his life and that will never be cowardice not once. He didn't go to Wymack immediately when he found out because he knew what kind of target he'd paint on Wymacks back.

"He was trying to protect him," Neil said. "If Coach knew Kevin was his son, he'd have tried to take him from Edgar Allan." Nicky grimaced. "They'd have never let Kevin go." 

He only left when he had no other option. He had nothing left, the one thing he did have was taken away from him, he had no purpose and for once Riko didn't care enough about him to pay attention. And he used that to run.

Leaving Jean behind was something he always regretted, but it was a game of survival. Jean was a gift to the Moriyamas, he was also property to them and couldn't leave. And if the roles were reversed I strongly believe Jean would've done the same thing.

Also Kevin finds a place for him layer with the trojans because he knew that being a fox wouldn't be good for him.

"He isn't safe with us," Kevin said. "I won't give him false hope."

Staying in the nest would've been suicide for Kevin. He's one of the biggest victims in the series but nobody talks about it enough I fear and there's so much to learn about him via context clues etc.

And the saddest thing in my opinion is that Kevin knew was it was like to be loved, he was raised by his mother for a few years before going to the Moriyamas. 

ANYWAY to conclude, I suck at essays and I hope I've worded everything well and what I'm trying to say gets across. Kevin is not a coward, never has been a coward and never will be. He's survived through such a damaging and abusive environment only to get moved to a separate environment where everyone just ridicules his defense tactics and he has no real sense of support. 

His reasons for what he does always stems from the fact the he doesn't want to go back to being under Riko and Coach Moriyamas "care" and that he's afraid. And most of the time it's things he can't shake from the nest.

Like when he pushes the foxes its so they're always at their best and so none of them get hurt or punished for mistakes. He pushed himself the hardest because he doesn't want to directly affect his teammates. 

Or the celebrity persona he was forced to develop.

Or how he makes sure everyone is staying healthy and that they don't force themselves to play when sick or injured because he knows what it's like to be forced to play like that day after day. 

AND IVE GONE OFF COURSE AGAIN yeah I kinda mashed together both analysis' of how Kevin's trauma from the nest affects him and how he's not a coward into one thing AND THIS IS SUPER LONG so if ur still here thank you very much for reading I really hope this makes sense

[imaginespazzi]

It's very late, I'm a tiny bit tipsy but I definitely won't have time tomorrow, and if my inbox is anything to go by, y'all really want your pazzi crumbs so here y'all go (I might do a proper recap about the game later but we'll see)

Also I know I said I lowkey wanted Paige to leave but you guys seeing the way gampel loves her (like IT WAS LOUD and lowkey didn't even hear her say the "I'm coming back" part because everyone was screaming already) and seeing the way she loves them back, ugh I'm just so happy she gets that again for one more year and I just hope it's everything she wants.

Anyways onto what you're here for:

The scream I screamed when Azzi came out in the #5 jersey like I think I scared some people (read: the girl next to me even though she should be used to my bullshit by now). But when I tell y'all it was a MOMENT, for me and for Paige. I'm sure she knew it was happening but I have no idea if she'd seen Azzi in that jersey before the moment. But girlie's eyes were glued for a good minute. Like they were doing their warmups and stuff they do, and Azzi was walking around the court saying hi to people and Paige was distracted as hell. Then Azzi finally got to her and bruh the smirk on this bitch's face like WE GET IT. That's your girl, in your jersey. She definitely made some smartass comment cause Azzi rolled her eyes. Like you guys I wish I had videoed this interaction, even if it would have come out blurry as fuck, because I swear it's better than anything I can ever write, literally straight out of a fic vibes.

KK also definitely made some smartass comment cause Azzi full just shoved her at some point. Princess was getting teased by everyone today I think because she was blushing and rolling her eyes a lot and whoever was around her was laughing with teasing eyes.

They gravitate to each other so much, like so much it's kinda insane. Especially before the game, like as soon as Azzi was out of the tunnel (injured players come out a couple of minutes after the other players), even when they're not really even interacting each other, they're in each other's orbiit. Y'all like it's kinda ridiculous. And I was at the Texas game last year (was not as invested back then so maybe that's why) but I swear they weren't this attached yet.

Also seeing Azzi so happy and carefree pregame, I already knew Paige was definitely staying.

Small moment during the foul with Amari that was being reviewed, the non-injured players were huddled and the injured players were still on the bench. And Paige just kept looking back at Azzi and at some point Aaliyah like elbowed her and gave her a knowing look before also turning back and looking at Azzi.

Also I swear when they're slapping hands, both of them tend to linger just a second longer than they do with other people.

Speaking of people teasing Azzi, Paige's mom gave her the biggest smirk when she saw her after the game. Like she looked at the jersey and then like titled her head a little bit and then they hugged and it was so sweet. Before that she was messing around with all of Paige's siblings. You can just tell the comfort level is different because at this point, everyone's close to everyone's families to an extent, but it's just different with Azzi and Paige's family.

Back to gravitating, as soon as Paige was done with the SNY interview and interacting with fans, she was back in Azzi's orbit. Like they don't really touch and stuff because they're clearly aware there's so many people, but you can see they kinda want to? But they were just talking after. They're so tethered, like I know and y'all know, but when you see it in person it's kinda insane to observe.

Alright that's all I can remember right now but I'll see if I can remember more. But man it was just such an emotional night and ugh I love this senior class so much and seeing them get the love they deserve made me so happy. They deserve everything.

[rottencherrypie]

R-18+; The King's Whore (Thorin x Fem!Reader)

Summary - Before reclaiming Erebor, the king had propositioned you to become his personal whore, a proposition which was rather beneficial on both sides. However, it appears you have forgotten who owns you and now all of Erebor and its' visitors must know that you are the king's whore.

Warnings - Smut, afab reader, female reader, degradation, harassment, xenophobia (brief), possessiveness, teasing, slapping, choking, bodily fluids, unprotected sex, spanking (brief), kinda-dom!thorin(?),kinda-dom!reader(?), semi-public sex, being called a whore (an unhealthy amount of times), thorin whimpering, creampie, (brief) mention of a womb.

Pronouns & Pov - She/her, third-person-ish

Word Count - 4,100+

A/N - An old smut from my old Tumblr account, I honestly do not remember a single word I wrote back then...it's good to be back <3 (I swapped phones so I no longer have the collage I originally used with this, I will make a new one soon)

Read on AO3

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

It had been mere months since the painstakingly long journey to reclaim the kingdom of Erebor had come to fruition. The terrifying battle nearly took your lover and his beloved nephews from this realm but by the grace of the gods, you had managed to swoop in and save them one by one. The scars on your body, ranging from large to small were a reminder of how lucky all of you were to be breathing.

A soft smile graced your lips at the thought of each dwarf sleeping peacefully within the large stone walls, walls that shielded out everyone else except for you. You were the only exception when it came to humans, according to the company you had traveled with, all doubts had ceased to exist from their minds though you could not say the same for the rest of their people.

Some had shown you great hospitality, it often debated if it were for your association to the king or for your bravery on the battlefield, while others showed you relentless cruelty. Shared cruelty both you and a rather familiar she-elf had grown to endure, none thinking of how the pair of you had thrown your lives away for the safety of their people yet they were often quick to judge on how those who stood before you did nothing for those before them.

A sudden frown spread upon your lips at the sudden reminder of those awful words the pair of you were often called, many ranging from outrageous to simply hissing 'human' or 'elf' in your directions, though there was one supposed insult that always forced a knowing grin onto your soft lips. The king's whore.

Little had they known, you had earned this title far before you had stepped foot into Erebor. They would never know nor accept that it was the king's suggestion to aid him during his sleepless nights, to give him momentary relief up against a tree, or to share your tastes upon each other's tongue.

No, to them you corrupted their poor king the moment the battle was over for your selfish gain, many reminding you through a slum of insults they would never accept you and you would never be their queen. A title you did not care for and you could easily have cast away with a few words to your lover, as you had made clear to him and all of Erebor; the title of their queen was pathetic compared to being his whore.

Many believed being his queen would give them more power than some measly whore could ever gain yet here you were, sitting across some of the most powerful rules in middle earth as they sought out your opinion, a simple whore, to aid them for future conquests. On top of keeping the king's bed warm, you kept their kingdom and many other kingdoms safe yet no one would ever credit you with that.

"Is there anything you wish to add, Y/N?" The soft tone suddenly anchored you back to reality, a quiet hum escaping your lips as your eyes raised the rouge-colored fabric that hung loosely around your lap. The form-fitting outfit, one you had chosen to get a rise out of the dwarven king, a form of revenge for him leaving you craving his touch and taste all so he could go back to his pointless paperwork.

"If all is well with his highness, then I have nothing else to add." Your melodic words falling gracefully upon his ears, the corners of his slightly chapped lips turning upwards into a proud smile. "Then it is settled." The dwarven king announced, slamming his bare palm against the dark-oak table allowing the men to rise from their seats to commune with one another.

Many coming to his side to compliment him on retrieving his home, a compliment he often reflected onto you yet this time he didn't. As he glanced across the table, his calloused hand stretched out, prepared to introduce you in a way he often did, he noticed you were talking to another. Not just another dwarf, they knew better than to do so without his permission, but another man. This alone would be fine if you were not flirting with him!

The tips of your fingers softly kissing his lightly scar-tattered arms as your plump lips curved upwards into a smile, your jewel-colored eyes sparkling as you took in each boring word the man spoke. To the king's displeasure, you wrapped a soft palm around his upper arm and allowed a soft giggle to escape your lips, a similar action that had sparked his proposal for you to be his whore and only his.

"Excuse me." The muttered words barely caught his company's ears as he quickly rose, his limbs moving on their own towards your direction as the light behind his eyes quickly began to match the shade of your dress. "And that's when I-oh hello your highness," The male began, a knowing smile painted upon his lips. "I was just telling your whore about my latest journey." The words flying out of his mouth far too comfortably, the palm which loosely wrapped around his upper arm suddenly released whilst you backed away in disgust. How dare he call you that? Only your king could refer to you as such!

"I beg your pardon?" The words passing through the king's gritted teeth, though he was furious at you for flirting with another male, the rage he had felt when your title slipped through his lips was far more powerful. "Your whore, how much gold for a night with her?" A smug grin spread upon his grimy face, a grin he wished to wipe clean from his face with his sword. "My whore, is not for sale. She will not warm anyone else's bed other than my own." The low growl sending a sharp shiver down your spine, you could not deny the effect his possessiveness had upon you.

Your breath hitched in the back of your throat as the king inched closer to the lower-class male, eyes burning blazes far more powerful than Smaug's breath. "You shall refer to her as Y/N or her highness and only as such, the title of my whore is meant for myself and myself alone." His fingers tightly clung around his thumb, chest rising and falling quickly as his gaze burnt further holes into his competitor's skull. "If you wish to leave Erebor intact, I highly suggest you do so. Understood?" The opposite male quickly bobbed his head, face draining of all color the moment the king's harsh tone caught his ear.

"Good, now get out of my sight." And with those words, the male quickly scurried off leaving you with the fuming king. "Outside, now." Another low growl further dampened the undergarments that rested between your thighs. Without the chance to respond, he quickly dragged you out of the meeting halls without the notice nor the care of others around him.

"What did you think you were doing?" Hissing as he shoved you up against the cold stones, your words quickly catching in your throat as the glint in his eyes grew darker. "You know what, my whore? I simply do not care now, it appears someone has forgotten who she belongs to." The hot air on the nape of your bare neck forced you to swallow a mouthful of air, the burning fury within his ocean eyes furthering the lust you had towards him.

"No clever comment? Or are you too overwhelmed by your pathetic need to be full of cock already?" The sensation of his rough calloused hand inching up your thigh caused your breath to hitch in the back of your throat, your lust-filled eyes boring back into his enraged ones. "Thorin, we should stop. Someone could spot us-" "If they do let them watch, you are mine and all of middle earth will know it when I get done with you." The once silent halls filled with the sudden tearing of your panties, the damped fabric sprawled onto the murky ground beneath you.

A small pathetic gasp escaped your plump lips as his fingertips grazed your sensitive clit, excruciatingly sensitive due to his highness's neglect towards it in favor of his work. "Look at you, so responsive already. Such a good whore for me." A proud smile spread upon his lips as a singular thick finger traced a path down your drenched cunt, the very tip slowly delving inside of your soaked walls before slipping away.

An irritated sigh slipped through your lips as you attempted to lower yourself down upon it, your movements quickly stalled by his harsh grasp digging into your left hip. "Ah, ah, ah." He tutted pulling his finger further away from your soaked cunt. "Only good whores get pleasure, have you been a good whore?" "I always am-ah!" A harsh thwack against your clit forced your entire body to tremble. "Wrong answer." His cock stirring against the tight fabric he called trousers at your pathetic whines.

The continued thwacks against your sopping pussy echoed throughout the empty halls, soft whines and desperate pleads filled the king's ears amongst his torturous touches. "Oh please, your highness! I'll do anything you desire, please use me. I need it so badly." The pathetic excuse for words choked out of your swollen lips, each thwack digging your teeth further into the tip of your upper lip. "Anything?" A mischievous smirk spread upon his lips, your neediness was a sight, a rare one yet one he adored more than any treasure in all of middle earth.

The blur of your beautiful hair caught his eyes, he had trained you to be his perfect cock whore so well. "Face the wall, legs spread wide." His hot breath was suddenly removed from your neck as he backed away from you. "Now." His command jolted you up from the wall, legs trembling in an attempt to keep you steady as you quickly spun around.

"Such a good little whore." He hummed lowly while he kneaded your plump arse. "My good little whore." The soft tickle of his beard against your neck allowed a small giggle to slip between your lips. Finally, you were getting what you wanted. Arching your back downwards, you pressed your covered arse further into his calloused palms receiving an appreciative groan from him. "Needy today, aren't we?" Though you could not see it, you could feel the smile upon his lips due to the amusement dripping from his words.

"I am always needy for you, my king." A silent whine disrupting your words as the king's rough hands roamed beneath your skirts, a harsh thwack on your plump arse forced a choked moan out of your lips. "Must you tease me?" You whined slightly louder than desired, all care you had for getting caught slowly inching out of your mind as you thought of the inches between the king's legs.

"Patience, my dear whore." The king hummed lowly as his hands continued to further explore your desperate form, gliding over each curve and ounce of your body. Each bump and rough patch of skin received a momentary hover of the king's hands, some ounces in small circles, before gliding to the next mass of flesh, admiring and loving each scar and imperfection your body held.

Though it typically warmed your heart knowing how much his highness adored you and the things you have done for him, now was not the time you wanted him to be gentle with you nor receive any praises from him. You needed him badly, you needed him now.

Further pressing your plump arse into his large palm, you slowly began to roll your hips in a desperate attempt for him to gift you with any form of pleasure. "You know you want to." The words dripping with lust, your low sultry tone causing his aching cock to twitch against those damn restraints he called trousers.

"Is that so? What else do I want to do, if you are so clever?" As you opened your mouth to answer his inquiry you felt the sudden shift of your skirts going upwards. "Go on, whore. Speak." "I-oh fuck!" Your attempt to form words dying off on your tongue at the sudden pressure between your legs, the tip of his throbbing cock slowly pressing into your soaked cunt without fair warning.

A small gasp of pleasure escaping your lips as his throbbing cock continued to push further inside of you, the gentle stretch of your walls allowed your eyes to loop upwards into your skull. "Shit, Thorin." The pathetic little mewls from his pulsating cock deep within you sounded more heavenly than any instrument's tune before, a pleased grin spreading upon his lips as he bucked his hips upwards allowing his cock to further stretch out your soaking cunt.

"Such a good little whore, taking all of me so easily." The muttered words against your neck sending a shiver down your spine, the soft tickle of his beard against your bare neck was accompanied by gentle nips at the curve of your soft neck. The bucking of his hips stalled at a gentle pace allowing you time to adjust to the heavenly stretch inside of you, each fiber of his being burning as he restrained himself from further carving his cock inside of you.

The attempts to allow you to adjust quickly failed as you backed your hips against his, your soaking cunt squeezing around his throbbing cock with each movement. "Fuck." He groaned tilting his head backward, eyes closed at the heavenly sensation as his hands roamed up your body before resting snugly around your throat.

Your eyes widening at the gentle pressure that surrounded your neck, the warmth which radiated off of his palms soothing the faint bite marks given mere moments before. "Be a good whore and stay still." The roughness in his voice further drenching your aching cunt, a tone you had heard once before he pulled out of you and left you there, desperate and begging for the smallest touch from him.

The squelch of your drench cunt accompanied the sound of skin slapping against each other throughout the stone halls, your pleased moans ever so slightly muffled by the king's hands clenching around your throat. The pair tightening as his movements grew faster, his cock hitting the most sensitive spots deep within you with every stroke.

Though he was not mighty when it came to his height, his cock was far different, much larger and thicker than you had ever dreamt of. The faint sting of it stretching you out upon entrance far too heavenly for words to describe, a statement you had once told him only to be met by his mocking as you sobbed on his throbbing cock that very night at the intensive stretch he gave you.

"So fucking tight, so tight for me." He growled lowly into your ear as the thrusts of his hips became harder and quicker, your hands desperately clawing against the smooth walls as each rough thrust further carved his cock into your inner walls. "All for you, Thorin." The words choked out weakly as your eyes looped upwards within your skull, your mouth agape as each thrust allowed a moan to escape.

"Who's pussy is this? Fucking say it." Another low growl greeted your ease whilst he rammed his cock deeper in your depth, hitting the most sensitive part of your core with each powerful stroke. "It's your pussy, Thorin. It's all yours." You sobbed loudly, a familiar tingling spreading up from your toes throughout your entire body as a knot formed within the pit of your belly.

"What was that, whore? I couldn't hear you!" The pressure against your neck slightly eases before a harsh thwack fell upon your arse, your body jolting forwards at the sudden sensation as a whimper suddenly left your lips. "You own my pussy, Thorin!" You yelped out, your loud cries bouncing throughout the large halls. Any concern of your peers hearing your slutty cries melted out of your pleasure-filled mind, your only thoughts on how harshly the king was treating your pussy. The knot within your stomach tightening further, your cunt clenching around the massive cock buried within you.

"AH!" His rough thumb began toying with your throbbing bundle of nerves, his animalistic thrusts refusing to ease up on your beaten pussy as your body trembled before him. Sweaty palms gliding down the cold walls, back arched further towards him as his calloused hand clenched tighter around your throat. "Fuck, I can't." You choked out another whine as both of his movements became sloppier, soft grunts escaping his lips as your pussy began to pulsate around his swollen cock.

"Cum." He commanded lowly, his hips beginning to burn at the pace of his animalistic thrusts. Each thrust ramming his cock at the most sensitive spot in your body, his thumb perfectly circling the tense bundle of nerves between your legs. "I can't." He snarled at your pathetic whine, the circles from his thumb quickly removed by a harsh smack against your throbbing clit.

"I said fucking cum, whore! Do it, cum for me. Now!" A loud yell escaping your lips as your body trembled, the static sensation spreading upon your body as the knot within your belly finally burst. His sturdy hand moving from your clit to your chest to keep your trembling form steady whilst you gushed around his cock, a proud smile spread upon his lips as his thrusts began to slow. "That's a good whore, cumming for her king." He cooed softly, his hand moving from your neck to caress your cheek whilst your walls fluttered around him.

The cool air filled your lungs as your gasps returned to steady breaths, your tense shoulders slumping towards your sides as a blissful look spread across your face. "I've got you." His words came out as a soft chuckle as he pressed a gentle kiss upon your neck, a soft nod of the head signaling him you were prepared to go again.

"Are you sure, Y/N? You nearly collapsed there." The back of his rough hand gently caressing your cheek. "Please, Thorin. You need your release as well." A mischievous smile spreading upon your lips, without warning you began to move forwards before lowering yourself back down on his length allowing a bliss-filled moan to slip through both of your lips.

The temporarily silent halls quickly filled back with the sound of skin slapping against each other yet again, the much softer rhythm accompanied by the faint moans from the king. "Fuck, you feel so good." He moaned into your ear as you met his soft thrusts by pushing your ass further against him, the hands which once held your neck now squeezing one of yours and gripping the flesh on your hip.

Each throb and thrust allowed your body to tremble, the aftershock of your orgasm still rang fresh throughout your body. His thrusts slowed down in speed as he squeezed your palm tightly, eyes glued shut allowing him to further absorb the sensations of your squelching pussy.

"You fuck me so good, my king." You cooed, squeezing his palm back as you further bounced yourself on his cock knowing well he was not short from falling into the depths of his pleasure, the slow teasing circles your hips would trace whilst on the base of his cock sent a loud groan throughout the halls.

"Fuck, Y/N. If you keep that up I'll-" A soft whimper slipping through his lips as you released his hand from yours, both palms planted firmly on the wall as you continued to ram yourself back against his throbbing cock. "Do it, my king. Cum for me." The sight of your arse bouncing upon his cock and your encouraging words almost too much for the lust-stricken king.

His sturdy arms wrapping around your waist tightly as he held you steady, his pace gradually picking up as his whimpers rang throughout Erebor. "Fuck, I want to fill you up so badly." His whines in your ear were your favorite tune, much like your desperate moans and whimpers to him, it was one no instrument could compare to nor recreate.

"You want to fill up your whore's pussy? Would that make my king happy?" You hummed out softly between moans, the heavy slap of skin against each other speeding up as he bobbed his head against your neck. "Please." His pathetic little whines making your pussy flutter around him, a single hand trailing down back towards your cunt and greeting your bundle of nerves yet again.

"Then do it, your highness. Fill me up with your cum." The moment that heavenly tune left your lips he began to plow into you faster, sweat glistening upon his forehead as his thumb swirled around your sensitive bundle of nerves, desperate to get one more orgasm out of you during his own.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" The loud cries of the king ringing out throughout his kingdom as his grip around your waist tightened, his body slumping further into yours as his hips bucked roughly into yours, his thumb still twiddling around that sensitive bundle of nerves he adored so deeply bringing you to yet another blinding orgasm.

White-hot ribbons painting the deepest depths within your womb, the overwhelming sensation of being filled to the brim made your nails puncture his toned arms. A soft hiss escaped his lips at the new puncture wounds, ones he would later claim he received during battle, and hoped the stirring of his cock would not give the truth away.

Trembling bodies clinging onto one another tightly, your nails still digging into his toned flesh while your lips curved up into a looped smile. "Thank you." He muttered softly, kissing the nook of your neck between pants for the cooling air. "Anytime, my king." You cooed happily, glazed-over eyes staring back at one another as your soft lips met his.

A tender moment erasing all images of the day before from both minds, simple orgasmic peace within you was all the new king needed in these silent moments, moments he wished he wasn't required to end. "Ready to return to our guests, my whore?" He hummed softly, pulling his softened cock out of your warm depths. A soft disappointed whimper escaped your lips at the sudden departure, wishing to have nothing more but a few more moments or hours with him.

"If it were up to me, my king, we wouldn't return till neither of us could walk." The soft mutter barely catching his ear, your attention now focused on fixing your disheveled appearance before facing the men in the other room. "After this, you will have me all to yourself until the next full moon." His lips gracing yours again for another few blissful seconds, the soft sensation easing all tension and worries from your body.

"I suppose I can bear with our guests for a few moments longer." A pleased smile creeping up onto your face causing the king to shake his head, both knowing well this would not be the first outburst towards him.

"Come along then." The sturdy thumps of his heavy boots ringing throughout the halls as you walked by his side, hands tightly wrapped around the other. "Oh, and before I forget." Pausing a few feet from the large metal doors in front of you, watching curiously as his opposite hand delved into his furs. "Remember, I own you, whore." Your body froze seeing your soaked panties in his clutches, a mischievous glint sparkling within his ocean orbs whilst he quickly tucked it away.

The soft clicks of his boots brought you out of your shocked daze alongside the sudden trickle of cum rolling down your inner thighs, a heavy heat quickly burning beneath your cheeks as you rushed after the mischievous king. "Thorin! Give those back to me this instant!" Your yells bouncing off the walls whilst you attempted to grab within his robes, his amused chuckles only fueling your desperate attempts to cover your bare cunt.

"You said it yourself, my lovely whore. I own your pussy and as the owner of it, I want it bare at all times." The smug grinning king pressed a soft kiss upon your cheek before waltzing into the meeting room ever so calmly as if him pounding into you mere moments ago was simply a figment of your imagination, you trailing close behind him with your gaze pointed towards the floor.

His hot cum further staining your inner thighs as you took your spot next to him, a calm smile spread upon your lips as you remembered his words. 'you will have me all to yourself until the next full moon.' How he would regret his actions at nightfall, if he wished to play dirty you could as well.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Rewrite >

[enweasley]

Restricted Section ; Finn Weasley x Sallow!Reader

AN: HII! So I haven't seen this being done much (or even at all but I barely looked) where people would write fanfics of their own characters in Hogwarts Legacy, so I decided to do so! Quick introduction to the character:

This is Finn Weasley; He's in Gryffindor and has a very loyal but mischievous personality. He's also pansexual! He LOVES herbology but he loves solving mysteries and exploring secrets even more - even if it's super dangerous. However, he will go to any extent to keep others out of danger (ironically). Finn can be really harsh to people if someone hurts him or the people he cares about. He's not perfect, though, he has some flaws. He does have a short temper and can say pretty horrible things without meaning to. He can also be quite reckless and finds it hard to accept other people's love and care, leading him to forget to keep himself from getting hurt.

That's all for now, but I'll probably add more to his story as time goes by!

(Please excuse any grammar mistakes, I'm trilingual and grammar from 3 languages can mix me up a lot C:)

--

Summary: The new student needs your help sneaking into the restricted section for something 'very important'. However, he doesn't expect you to cover for him when you get caught.

Warnings: Swearing, small panic attack, gets a little heated at the end. Kinda cheesy but we love that :)

Reader's gender is never specified!

--

"Excuse me! Y/n Sallow, right?" Interrupted from your game of wizard's chess alone, you turn around to be met with a pretty tall red-head. You couldn't help but think about how gorgeous he is, but you swallow your excitement.

"Yeah, that's me. You're the new kid aren't you?" You disenchant your chess game and give him your full attention. "I watched your duel with Sebastian in the Clock Tower, you're really good!"

Finn seems to flush at your compliment. During his short time starting in 5th year here in Hogwarts he's gotten plenty compliments on how he's been able to learn and execute spells so quickly, but for some reason your compliment had a special affect on him.

He chuckles lightly. "Thank you, I'm just trying to catch up quickly." He couldn't seem to keep his eyes from wandering over your features. "It's Finn, by the way. Finn Weasley."

"Oh, another Weasley! Well it's lovely to meet you! Did you need anything?" You ask politely.

Finn almost forgot why he was talking to you in the first place, but managed to remember before already humiliating himself in front of you. "Right, yes. This may sound quite forward, but Sebastian told me you're really good at sneaking around. Is there a chance you can help me sneak into the restricted section of the library tonight? I can't say why, but it's very important."

You were a bit surprised at his request, but kind of prideful that you were the first person he was led to for it. You smiled widely. "Of course! I'm surprised my brother didn't take you himself. Meet me at the grand staircase at 9. Don't be late!"

"Wait- Don't you wanna know more about why I need to sneak in?" He asked perplexed.

"Nope. I'll take any opportunity for sneaking around. Either way, you don't seem the type to burn down the castle or anything. Plus, you said you can't say why you need to sneak in."

He mentally facepalmed himself. How could he forget he just said that? Maybe he just wanted to talk to you longer. "I'll see you at 9!" You smile at him and walk away.

You take a long breath after turning away from him. Holy shit he's cute.

-

You're both crouched at the railing of the stairs looking down onto the central hall at exactly 9pm, analysing the prefects walking around and guarding the doors of the library.

"Okay," you whisper. "First of all, we need to go invisible. Have you learnt the disillusionment spell?"

Finn looks at you like a lost puppy, his head slightly titled. You almost had to tell him how cute he looked, but held back.

You pull your wand out and whisp it over your head and body. The wand leaves a blue trail of light before all there was left was your aura.

You continue whispering to the lost boy in front of you. "This is the disillusionment spell. It doesn't turn you completely invisible but it's better than being completely exposed."

You point to his hand holding his wand. "May I?" He nods hesitantly.

You slowly hold his fist clenching onto his wand and do the same movement you did on yourself over him. Finn could barely focus, the feeling of your soft hand on his summoning an army of butterflies in his stomach. You couldn't help but feel the same tingle in your stomach too.

Clearing your throat, you speak. "That's the movement for the spell. Just think of it and do the movement."

He did as you said, and suddenly you were both just two ghosts staring at each other's remains.

Finn chuckles enthusiastically. "This is awesome!" He whisper yells.

You laugh at his excitement, wishing you could see his freckled face through the spell.

"Okay, let's go. Stick close to me." You begin to sneak down the stairs, through the hall, and quickly side past the prefect turned away from the library door. You can feel Finn following closely behind.

After you both get into a safer corner of the library away from Madam Agnes's sights, you remove the spell off you.

"Here's the plan," you start. "You go get the key from Madam Agnes's desk draw over there, I'll distract her."

Finn nods. As you start to turn away, Finn grabs your arm gently and looks at you with his adorable puppy eyes.

"What if you get caught?" He sounds worried. You can't tell why he'd be worried about you, though.

You give him a cheeky smile. "Me? Get caught? You should worry about yourself, Weasley." He chuckles, shooing away the blush creeping into his cheeks after hearing you call him by his surname. "C'mon, let's go."

As you throw a book across the room, Finn conceals himself and scurries to grab the key. You quickly do the same and meet him at the entrance of the restricted section.

Exposing yourselves from the spell, you watch him unlock the gate before you walk in.

"YES!" Finn cheers, surprising you both with a tight hug. There's a pause before he realises what he's doing and slowly pulls away, taking his warmth away with him. "Sorry... Got excited."

You laugh sweetly at him. "I don't mind." He continues walking down the stairs of the forbidden room, but not before shooting you a relieved smirk.

"Lumos." You cast, making the eery room brighter and less intimidating.

As you squeeze between abandoned bookshelves and over piles of junk, you reach a collapsed set of armour. "Repai-" Finn begins to cast before a loud screech interrupts him.

Almost out of thin air, Peeves flies through the wall in front of you. He almost knocks you down, but Finn's quick reflexes catch you before you hit the ground. You find yourself wrapped in his arms, yours tightly around his neck.

"Shit, are you okay?" Finn asks you breathlessly, his worried eyes glaring into yours.

"Yeah yeah, I'm fine-" But once again you were interrupted by the same squeaky, loud voice of the poltergeist.

"I'M TELLING, I'M TELLING," Peeves squeals mockingly before flying straight upwards towards the main floor of the library.

Your heart squeezes into itself. You've never been caught before, why now? Your uncle is going to kill you if he finds out you were sneaking around the castle, and in the restricted section of all places.

You didn't realise your breath was quickening until you felt arms lowering you onto the floor and rough but warm hands palming each side of your neck.

"Hey, hey. You're alright, sweetheart. Take a breath." You hear Finn's soft voice whisper in your ear. A little voice was in your head screaming How do you expect me to breathe when you're making my heart beat even faster??

You breathe deeply before letting out a small chuckle. "I'm okay. I'm fine. Just go get whatever you need to get. I need to deal with Peeves before he gets us both in trouble."

Finn looks at you as if asking you if you're sure. You just nod and sprint after Peeves, the last thing you hear is a distant "Repairo" before making it back to the library.

"PEEVES YOU STUPID POLTERGEIST." You try catching him, forgetting he's a literal ghost as your arms flail right through him.

"Y/n Sallow." You jump at the voice of Madam Agnes behind you. You slowly turn around while Peeves chuckles menacingly at your head hung low in shame. "And to think I'd get a break from the Sallow siblings, you come running along. Wait until your uncle hears about this."

"No. No no no-" You get interrupted by her. "That's enough. You're a bright student, you should know better than to go sneaking around the restricted section especially after curfew."

"But Madam Agnes-"

"And Peeves here tells me you were with someone else." Peeves twirls and rolls around mid-air, celebrating your punishment. "Please tell me you were forced to come here by someone's hand instead of it being your own choice."

There's a pause. You could never snitch on Finn like that. You only just met him but you know better than to put his record at risk on his first week of school here. This was your own choice anyway, you weren't forced. Finn helped you down there, so you're gonna help him.

"No. I came here all alone." You said in a low but stern voice.

Madam Agnes sighs at your lie, but she knew how stubborn you and your brother were, so she let it slide.

"Detention after classes tomorrow. You're going to sort the books to their respective places until they're all done. It doesn't matter if it takes you all night." Your shoulders slump. "Peeves, escort her to her common room, please."

With a sigh from you and an evil chuckle from the poltergeist, you begin your walk to your common room. At least Finn's in the clear now.

Little did you know, Finn saw the whole thing from behind one of the shelves. He couldn't help but let a grateful smile reach his lips.

--

The next day, Finn runs to the library to find you after his classes. It's already dark out by the time he finishes his extra tasks and from talking to Professor Fig. He doesn't know why he's in such a hurry, but he won't let his confidence escape him just yet.

Once he's in, he find the library to be completely empty, not even Madam Agnes in sight. He hears distant curses and shuffling coming from the second floor and he can only assume the source being your complaining.

As he follows the sounds of frustrated mumbles, he finally finds you at the end of the second floor in a dark corner holding a bunch of books to shelf up. He smiles at the sight of you awkwardly balancing everything in your one hand and walks over to you, taking a pile of books from you.

"Need help there?" He looks at you with a teasing smirk.

You look at him with a grumpy face. "Oh haha, Weasley. I can handle this on my own, thank you very much." You snatch back the books he took from you, instant regret flooding your features as you immediately struggle to balance them.

Finn immediately takes them back from you and effortlessly holds them over his head, extending his arm upwards far from your reach.

"Hey- Hand those back, Weasley." You try hopping to reach the books he so graciously stole from you.

He chuckles at your efforts while you claw up his chest and shoulders, trying to tug down his arm. After a harsh tug, Finn loses balance of the books he's holding and he tries catching them but ends up stumbling forwards.

The books fall to the side as Finn catches himself on the bookshelf, trapping you between it and himself.

You lock eyes with him, your hands clutched tightly onto the thin material of his shirt over his chest. You're both breathing heavily, chests almost touching with every breath.

You can feel Finn hesitate as his hands slowly reach to cup the back of your neck, his thumb over your cheek. No matter how much you willed yourself to, your simply could not take your eyes off him.

"Thank you." He whispers. Your eyebrows furrow.

"For what?"

"For covering for me." His stare snapping between your eyes and lips. "I heard you in the library after we got caught."

"You mean after I caught got?" You tease.

Finn smirks at your remark, his hold on your neck squeezing for a second. "Whatever you say, sweetheart." The nickname melts into your ears and into the rushed beats of your heart.

"Hey, Finn?" The use of his first name makes the blood rush to his cheeks, his breath hitches.

"Yeah?"

"You dropped my books."

"Shut up." Finn lets out in a desperate breath before pulling you into him, his lips roughly but passionately meeting yours.

His other hand shifts from the side of your head to tangle into your hair, tugging it lightly. You let out a little whimper, but that's all it took for Finn to deepen the kiss even more, his tongue slightly grazing yours. Breaths were escaping through your noses, desperate for air but never desperate enough to separate from each other.

Your fingers weave through his long, soft ginger locks. Your other hand clutches desperately onto the collar of his shirt.

You both finally pull away from each other, your hands gliding down to rest on his chest.

"Fuck." Finn leans his forehead on yours, leaning in for another quick peck. His hazel eyes are glazed over, looking into yours like they hold the world. He slowly brushes a strand of your hair behind your hair, memorising your face as you memorise his.

"I was hoping you'd do that." You chuckle breathlessly. Finn laughs with you, his eyes holding nothing but love as they stare into yours. "Oh yeah?" You nod, your nose lightly touching his.

"Now help me with these books, Weasley. You're still responsible for my detention." You playfully push him away and start picking up the books he previously dropped.

"And I'd do it again as long as it ends like this every time." He smiles at you cheekily.

"Do it again and I'm telling Sebastian you used a love potion on me."

And with that he got to work helping you sort the books out.

[pakunod-a]

Open my heart, read the signs. || Yandere!Vil Schoenheit x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Yandere kidnaps victim, finds out victim is over the moon for them. What to do in a situation wherein my love interest likes me back, without the use of my carefully thought-out plan?

Warnings: Realistically, this should be titled as Whiny!Fem!Reader (totally not a self insert of what I am like irl, no...) Yandere themes, if being dependent on others was a person, it would be the MC in this fic. Reader is 100% on board with Vil's plan. Who wouldn't want to be kidnapped by an insanely handsome guy, AND is in love with you? Honestly, he kinda mean tho. Potentially OOC Vil, this is somewhat fluffy to an extent.. I am not fluent in English, it is not my native language.

Note: am I writing this to satisfy my severe need to taken care of in a concerning way? Maybe. Is this unnerving to see, considering I am a minor? Definitely. But it's all fiction, right? Yeah, totally. Might be long af because I've been brain rotting since forever.

...Darkness.

It was horribly dark in here.

No source of light, not even a window or a lamp.

You try to move, but your movements have been restrained by chains.

You try to wiggle a bit farther, but it's no use. You're stuck here. You begin to sob softly, sniffling as you realize you are stuck in a secluded area, alone.

You hated being left alone, be it in class, projects, friend groups.. you didn't like being left somewhere to wander alone.

...That's right, you hated being alone.

..but you were never truly lonely, weren't you?

After all, Vil Schoenheit always vowed to make time for you.

He swore on the statue of The Fairest Queen, that he would not neglect your need of human affection.

..even if that meant you clinging to his side forever.

You remember walking alongside Vil on Main Street, looking up at the statues of the Seven.

You've always admired them, a lot, actually.

So when you unconsciously walk over to the Fairest Queen's statue, and blurt out your thoughts..

"...Hey Vil, do you think the Fairest Queen would be proud of you for being a spitting image of her?"

Vil paused for a moment, looking down at you to confirm. You were interlinked by the arms, as you stared up to the statue, focusing on the sculpted apple she held by the stem.

"I suppose she would. Why.. why a spitting image of her though? I look nothing like the Fairest Queen herself."

"I think.. because.. I find you very pretty. And you're like.. really reaaally smart at making potions. And you're like, perfect. Real perfect."

You beamed at him, grinning like a Cheshire cat. You felt.. dizzy. A little dizzy, as you lean onto Vil for support.

"Mmm.. feelin' a bit sleepy, Vil. Catch me."

You went limp in his arms, and the world around you fades to black. From fatigue, maybe? Or from something else..

There are a flurry of footsteps making their way towards you. The door creaks open, and you can make out a tall, beautiful shadow from the emitting light.

"You're up, dear? That was quick. I'd have expected you to sleep for a while longer."

You know that voice. You've heard that voice many times, in your dreams, in your nightmares, the voice that sets you to sleep and causes you to wake. The voice that makes your heart yearn for more, if not all of the praises it sings for you.

"...Vil?"

"That's right dear. Vil Schoenheit, if you've forgotten. Now, let's get something through that thick skull of yours, alright? I will not let you go. No matter how much you plea—"

"..'s cold Vil. Hug me please."

That caused Vil to pause for a moment. What do you mean, "hug me please", do you not understand what type of situation you're in? Or maybe, it's a trick! You're trying to deceive him!

"Enough. I'm not here to play your silly games, [Name]. If you try so much as to fool me, then I swear on the Great Seven, you are not leaving this room, nor will you see the light of day again."

Vil.. was raising his voice at you. That was weird. It always felt weird when he yelled at you, or got mad at you for whatever reason. He always dotes on you or compliments you, and on the off-chance that he DOES yell at you, he always apologizes profusely, stroking your hair in an attempt to console you.

"But.. you never yell at me.. Vil—"

"SILENCE! I will not fall for your made up stories and lies! Just for that, you will stay in this room for days on end without human interaction until I say otherwise!"

He storms out the door, slamming it shut. You begin to sob quietly, patiently awaiting the hands that once held you to hold you once more, the voice that used to comfort you until you peacefully slept in his arms..

But alas, he was gone. Gone was the kind, loving Schoenheit you knew, now just a cold and unnerving replacement. Why.. why would he do this to you? After you've trusted him to stay by your side.. to not leave you like the others do.

You thought he was special. You thought you were special to him, too. But you're starting to wonder if everything that he said was only lies for his convenience.

True to his word, you spent the next few days alone in his dark room. As those days pass by, you began sobbing yourself to sleep as the hours trickled through the hourglass of time.

You called out to Vil unconsciously, of course. In your sleep, you would yearn for the presence of another. It just so happens that you call out the name of your captor, Vil Schoenheit, whether you were aware or not.

This breaks Vil's heart, and it almost breaks his resolve too. He wants nothing more than to hold you close, coddle you like a mother, as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. You would sleep in his bed, as the both of you wrap your arms around each other for warmth.

He hears your calls in the dead of night, echoing through the empty Pomefiore halls. His sleep would be disturbed by a call of distress, his beloved calling out his name.

Alas, he believes this is all a trick, an illusion to simply lower his guard.

And so he spends the next few nights, tossing and turning, guilt eating at him constantly, without fail.

Until one night, your calls stop. You yearn for him no more. He cannot hear the gut-wrenching melody that once rang in his ears, the call of his beloved to come find her, to save her from the predicament he had put her in.

He gives in to his thoughts, and visits his captive at the peak of dawn.

You were there, sitting as if you had been weakened to an extreme extent. He wanted nothing more to hold you, to caress you again. But he has thought of every possibility, every problem, every solution.. but his conscience gets the better of him. He unbinds your hands from the chains restraining them, and carries you back to his bed. Thankfully, you were asleep at this moment, so he had little to no struggle in moving you to an accessible spot.

He sets you down gently, and for the first time since he's held you captive, as he drapes a blanket over your sleeping figure, you unconsciously grab hold of his hand, reaching, feeling the warmth you so dearly missed.

"..—il.. Vil.."

"[Name].. my dearest [Name], did I go too far? Did I break the promise I swore to honor in your name? Tell me [Name], I'll set it right, you don't deserve to suffer like this. You deserve to be—"

He notices that you've shifted, instead of being at a reasonable distance, your first instinct was to cuddle up to whatever warm living thing you find. As a result, you wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him closer to your sleeping form.

"Nnh.. Vil.."

"Yes dear.. Vil is right here, with you. There is no need to call out, this is where I will stay; beside you. You would appreciate that truly, wouldn't you?"

You did not respond, but something about the relaxed look on your face tells Vil that maybe you weren't planning anything meticulously drastic at all.

"I won't ever leave you again my dear, I promise. I mean it this time."

...You wake up to the feeling of an arm draped over you, your head elevated on someone's chest. You glance up to see Vil Schoenheit embracing you, burying his face into your hair. He mumbles in his sleep, holding you tight as humanly possible.

"Stay.. stay with me.."

"...mm?"

You poke his cheeks. It's adorable whenever he's vulnerable like this. You peck his forehead, and drift off to sleep.

You hear a soft melody that causes you to stir awake, the familiar comfort of two hands caressing your hair as a lullaby graces your ears. You felt all too familiar, until the melody was broken by a question—

"Good morning dear, did you sleep well?"

This time, Vil was the one looking down at you, your head in his lap, as he gazes at you with the most woeful of looks one could give.

"I am sorry. I don't know what's gotten into me. I shouldn't have done this to you. I understand if you want to leave, and I'll understand if you hate me so much to the extent that—"

He was cut off by a kiss to his nose, which both surprised him and caused a blush to his face.

"..ah. You.. um.. seem to react.. not in the way I was hoping you would."

He muses, as he hears you giggle softly.

"I'm fine with being like this with you any day. But please, promise to not lock me up in a dark room for days next time?"

He chuckles, kissing your forehead in adoration.

"Never. Not again. Say, once winter break is over, how about I spend the next spring break with you? Ah.. given that I'll have to clear my schedule, of course."

"You'd do that? Like.. seriously? I thought you had gotten an offer to star in another famous movie as the antagonist?"

He grumbles, pinching your cheeks suddenly.

"And why would I willingly accept the offer if all they would do to my poor image is to villainize me?"

"Ha ha. Funny. It's because of Neige playing the protagonist, isn't it?"

"Partially, yes. But also.. I promised I'd take you to see the first flowers bloom in spring. I can't jeopardize special moments like those for some silly movie."

That remark stuck with you. Your arms only opted to wrap around him tighter.

"..okay then. As long as you promise not to lock me up again."

"Silly little spudling, of course I wouldn't. You've taken quite well to being captured though. I can't help but wonder if maybe you love me or something."

"It's taken you this long to figure out?"

"..what?"

You look in mock horror, teasing him.

"Don't tell me you thought that all the things we do are platonic. Holding hands, interlinking arms, overly affectionate hugs and kisses—does that not seem romantic?"

"..I feel silly."

You giggle at that, kissing the tip of his nose as a response.

"For such a smart person and a great actor, you sure are a dummy."

"Very funny. I'm going to make you sing at the well on the campus in the midst of this cold weather if you don't stop teasing me."

"Like actually?"

"Actually."

Note (2): lol i wrote this at 11pm and finished at 1am cause i kept on dozing off now that ive proofread the entire thing it just seems like an original character rather than Vil himself 🏃

[george-weasleys-girl]

OK HEAR ME OUT

sub!fred and fem!dom reader BUT they figure out when she’s brushing through fred’s hair and it causes him to whimper

Fred x fem!reader

Warnings: smut-o-rama, use of the title mistress, orgasm control, brief mention of masturbation (female), spanking, hand job, blow job, curse word or two

18+ only

~•~

It all started with a whimper.

~•~

Fred lay on the bed naked, his hard cock leaking precum and twitching as he watched Y/N pleasure herself. He unconsciously moved his hand toward his throbbing member. Y/N slapped him hard on the leg with the back of a wooden hairbrush, pulling a whimper from his lips. "Don't touch yourself, love," she commanded. "Or you don't get to cum tonight. We don't want that, now do we?"

Her boyfriend shook his head vehemently. "No mistress."

"I didn't think so," she hummed, admiring the burning red imprint blossoming across the side of his leg.

~•~

No one would've guessed that Fred Weasley. THE Fred Weasley was a sub. Not even him. Until one particular evening.

He'd let his hair grow long again, and one of Y/N's favorite things to do was run her fingers through it. Then, one night, he asked her to brush it. He was so adorable when he asked. Almost shy, maybe a little embarrassed, his eyes repeatedly shifting away from hers.

How could she say no to that?

"Of course, baby," Y/N smiled, grabbing the hairbrush.

The whimper came out of nowhere.

You pulled the brush away. "You ok? Did I hurt you?"

"No... um, well, maybe a little," he stammered. "But I... uh... I kinda liked it." He shifted so that Y/N could see his raging hard-on. The unexpected realization led to a night of discovery in which Fred realized he not only liked a bit of pain with his pleasure. But that being told what to do made him cum longer and harder than he ever had before.

~•~

Y/N forced him to watch cum three times over the span of three hours. In between, she tormented him, jerking him off until he was right at the edge and then pulling away. "Aw, look at your poor cock," she teased. "So desperate for attention." She ran her thumb across the tip, gathering up the precum beading there. Fred arched his hips up, a shuddering moan falling from his open mouth.

"Would my poor boy like to cum?" She asked, continued to tease him as he writhed and bucked with every tiny movement of her fingers. "Yes, p-please, m-mistress."

"I bet you would," she said, pulling away altogether. "But you know you have to be punished first for being a bad boy and trying to play with yourself when I distinctly told you not to."

"Y-yes, mistress," he whimpered.

"Good," she said, her voice bringing a chill into the room. "On your hands and knees. Now."

Fred scrambled up, doing just as he was told.

"Such a good boy," Y/N smiled, running her fingers through his hair before pulling it back hard, forcing his face to meet hers. "Last time, I gave you six lashes," she growled in his ear. "But you didn't learn your lesson. I think this time I'll double it. Hmm? Maybe then you'll remember for next time."

Y/N didn't give him a chance to respond, letting go of his hair and swinging the hairbrush down across his ass, causing him to gasp. "Keep count," she ordered.

"One," Fred simpered.

She swung down again, harder.

"Two," he grunted.

Again.

"Th-three."

Again.

"F-four."

After the fourth, she reached around to stroke his dick, slowly and methodically, until he almost lost control. Then, without warning, she pulled away and brought the brush down on his bright red cheeks.

"Fi-five," he groaned.

"Good boy!" She praised, then brought the brush down again.

"Six."

"S-seven."

"Eight," he grunted through gritted teeth.

Once again, she reached around to stroke him, a little faster this time. All the while, telling him what a good boy he was being, how pretty his red ass looked and how hard she was going to make him cum when she was done. "But not yet." She said, pulling back and grabbing the brush.

She took her time with the last four, teasing him a little between each. By the time she was done, his entire body trembled with need. "P-please, mistress..." He begged.

"Please mistress what?"

"Please m-mistress," he began again. "P-please let me cum."

Y/N grinned and placed the brush to the side. "Lay down on your back."

Fred scrambled to do as he was told, his chest heaving in anticipation of what was to come. Y/N leaned down, kissing him deeply as she took his cock in hand. He moaned into her mouth, his hips bucking up uncontrollably. "So needy," she said, sitting up and increasing her pace. "Cum when you're ready, my love. No need to ask my permission."

"Fuck," he grunted, eyes squeezed tight. The pleasure rolling through him was almost too much, and he nearly lost it when he felt her mouth wrap around him. She began bobbing her head and doing that twirling thing with her tongue that drove him crazy.

It didn't take long. Less than a minute later, his cock twitched. "I'm g-gonna cum," he groaned, his legs shaking as he exploded down her throat, his mouth open in a silent scream of ecstasy as wave after wave of pleasure consumed him.

~•~

"That was fucking amazing," Fred sighed, his head lying in Y/N's lap.

"So, I take it you like our new set-up?" She smiled down at him.

"Oh hell, yeah," he answered. "I just can't seem to get enough." His eyes flickered down to his growing hard-on.

Y/N followed his gaze, grinning. "On your knees, baby boy."

~•~

@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @fredweasleyyyyy @hufflepuffins @alexistonks @anvaaryn @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1lellykins @junerprsh @sierraluvz @wolfkill16 @smallsweetvanillabean @costheticbabe @charmedfandomgal @hanne-montana @rhunew @greenapplegrass @lizzytrees @spididerman @Havenater1920 @jelloangela @whotfskai @netflix-addict @lunacurlclaw

[akunoniwa]

Prying

AN: i feel kinda evil bc the ending is sorta abrupt but this shit was getting too long babes... unless?

Synopsis: In which you and Dottore discuss pet names in conversation at first, putting them to good use not too long after...

Pairing: Il Dottore x fem!reader

Warnings: MDNI, Dottore finds your humiliation to be v irresistible..., use of 'master', 'daddy' (once! hear me out lmao), etc., mirror sex

WC: ~5.2k (she's long-winded, sorry, i think...)

You don’t understand the appeal.

As soon as you mentioned off-hand to Dottore that you didn’t understand why some thought it was hot to refer to their partners as ‘daddy’, he wouldn’t let you live it down. Not only did he find this addictingly humorous, but he also found himself curious… Perhaps you just never put it to proper use. Before you mentioned it, he didn’t have any opinions on the matter, let alone knowing it was a matter to begin with. But the fact that you were basically telling him that you would feel so degraded, so violated if you were to actually call someone this… He wanted to know, he wanted to weaponize this somehow, jokingly of course… He thinks.

“It’s just… Like, that’s how you address your father as a young child… Ya know?” You turned your head in the crux of your pillow towards him. You both lay in a leisurely type of bare, simply winding down from the day. Dottore had long set his book down, charmed by this topic.

“Well, wouldn’t it just… I’m not sure, darling… Some people are just so desperate to feel small, but I couldn’t tell you why or when it began. Sounds morbidly incestuous, to a degree.” You scanned his defined profile as he looked at the ceiling in thought, more committed to this investigation than you expected.

“Right? Like, why not ‘master’ or even… I dunno, someone not related to you?” You were waiting for this very reaction from him, a smirk pushing his fine smile lines to be visible.

“You never seem to call me any of those things…” Somehow the smirk dressed itself as a pout before your eyes.

“I– You never asked…? I don’t want to just randomly address you as something that might make you feel… Uncomfortable.” You must’ve forgotten who you were speaking to, a man who never seems to falter, a seasoned masochist. Even still, you stood your ground… In truth, the prospect of calling him anything other than his name simply embarrassed you, but you tried to keep that close to your chest in secret.

“I suppose you’re right.” He chose to respect your reasoning, “What if I asked?”

“Then I guess… If that’s what you like, I would do it.” You spoke matter-of-factly. In addition to the inherent embarrassment, you honestly found it hard to want to call anyone, any of those names, as you don’t usually give in that easily. This was something that only added fuel to his enduring fire, your playful resistance, the process of melting away your pride and dignity… All for him.

“You don’t even use my official title anymore. It’s almost funny, you’re the only one I like hearing my given name from, though usually, it’s only in here that I hear it.”

“Because you asked, you buffoon. You asked me to call you that because you told me you liked it.” You couldn’t keep a hold of your laughter any longer.

“Did I?” He remembers the day he did so, but found too much enjoyment in teasing you as he stroked his chin in faux thought.

“Maybe you should call me ‘master’.” Your giggles were running circles around the room.

“Would you like that?” He turned his head to you, his eye contact haunting you briefly, “Unlike a certain darling, I wouldn’t feel embarrassed to honor your filthy little wishes.”

“I said I would!”

It was his turn to chuckle, his deep voice resounding gently above you like its own duvet, “But you’d be reluctant, as you just informed me. Unfortunately, I find it amusing when you’re out of your comfort zone because I can tell when you’re just being your shy, bratty, self. You’d tell me otherwise.”

“Then we can both be masters.” Your laughter caved like a burst dam, dying at the thought of how ridiculous that’d be.

His face was hysterical, lips pressed so hard they’d lost their color as he tried not to let his laughter free, “I don’t know how that’d work… I don’t think we’d get anything done. Would we both be on our knees or just in a stalemate of power stances?”

“Stop– Stop talking.” The laughter was making your stomach tickle, unable to stop as he continued the hypothetical.

He rolled on his side to face you completely, “If we’re both standing in the power stance, how would one bend the other over their knee? It’s a logistical failure, darling.” His hand snuck over to gather a tear from your reddened face as your giggles died down. Perhaps being a buffoon wasn’t so bad if he got to hear your true laughter emanate from your infectious smile.

“I’d say we fight for the title, but… You’ve told me in various ways how you prefer to be the loser in that situation.”

“Try it,” you suggested, “Just try calling me master once, I wanna know how it feels.” A delicate, mischievous smile still lounged on your face.

An opening unlike any other, he’d overpower you with what you thought would be your pedestal. The sounds of blankets shifting flooded your ears as he moved to straddle over you, his powder blue hair hanging in ornate waves around his face.

“Is this not cheating?” You placed your hands on his blazing chest above you, your eyes lingering on how his arms flexed to hold himself over you.

“Only if you tell me it is… Master.” He didn’t hesitate, his eyes a deep, sappy scarlet, “You make the rules.” He referred to you like this so languidly, so heavily as he awaited what you might do next.

“I suppose I’ll allow it… I don’t feel very masterly when you’ve got me caged like this.” You took a liberty only the one ‘in command’ would, experimentally pinching his raised nipples for a reaction.

His long lashes fluttered as if a moth were shaking off dew. God, he wished you’d never stop, but he didn’t want to say that just yet, “Wouldn’t a master simply… Take control?”

He bent his arms to allow for his upper body to lean into you, his lips, taut once more in his trademark smirk, nearing your left ear, “Or… are you already stepping down?”

He felt your right hand slide down his front, anticipating your touch to collide with his exposed length, unfortunately the only thing he couldn’t conceal. He was easily aroused by you, though he was discovering… Toying with you like this, almost a perfect balance of submission was making his body rage for you. His willingness to even think someone had the higher ground was only because of you, finding that… Maybe he didn’t mind being controlled by you. But what really riled him was the thought of that pretty word leaving your mouth, so exasperated, barely able to think about anything beyond him.

Your hand sunk slowly against his searing, rigid body, not surprised to find he was already hard, his cock pronounced as it hung over you. You’d debated on touching him or not, but something about taking him into your hand was addicting… Just stroking his length, pulling on him deliberately from shaft to tip, as if you had him caught on a leash of your touch.

His voice, no matter the words or sounds that he used it for, was the key to your demise, deep with an alluring timbre. Quickly your mind was reminded, that he is the Second Harbinger… People find this man to be deplorable and menacing, his voice is only heard making barbaric commands or bickering with other deplorable, menacing Harbingers. All for good, supported, reason. But here, on top of his usual stony tone, grew flowers through the cracks of his demeanor, pollinated as you stroked him. His lips were so close… His shameless, sodden groans fall right into your ear. He was effortlessly always in control, knowing how susceptible you are to him.

“Don’t you want to tell me what to do, Master?” You wanted to punch him as he whined this into you, though not without defiance, his tongue shocking the helix of your ear, a trail of ice left behind. He wouldn’t dare allow himself to miss how your breath lurched in your throat.

You responded with a harsh enough pull on his cock to only remove your hand altogether, “You’re too good at this…” Not that you could mind too much. You pushed his chest in a way to urge him off of you, to which he easily obliged as you both switched places. His length pressed against his lower stomach as you sat over him to grind your pooled wetness along the underside.

“How long do you want to play pretend, darling?” You felt his hips gyrate up into you ever so slightly, “You clearly cannot get out of your mind, too busy wishing I was taking over it.”

You thought for a moment, wondering how you could catch him off guard… How you could make him lose himself, even for just a second. Your uncertainty was making it difficult, “How about…” You hesitantly removed yourself from him to retrieve a toy from your bedside drawer, laughing inwardly, almost nervously at his impending reaction.

He wouldn’t mind what you brought, his intrigue piqued as you revealed your futile efforts to best him in his own game. Your choosing a dildo could mean a few things in this situation… Did you want to fuck him? Was he to watch as you fucked yourself? He waited with bated breath, already missing your heat against him.

You returned to your position, a buzz of pleasure shooting through both of you at the continued contact. He’d do anything at this point, just wanting to see how far you’d go so he could obliterate you equally and more afterward.

After briefly taking it into your mouth, you dragged the wet tip along the center of his front, all the way up to his chin, “Would you suck cock for your master?”

A foreign feeling, not unlike pleasure, barrelled through him as he saw the look he was waiting for in your eyes, “You’re asking me?” Chills trickled through his body, all the way up through his nose as a pleased sigh.

“Be good for me… All you have to do is open your mouth…” You strung him along, though he was too turned on to care, parting his lips to allow you to slowly push into his mouth. He could feel your legs tensing on either side of him, your clit throbbing against his cock as he did so… This was so good.

“I wanna see your eyes.” You weren’t so much dominating him but rather he willingly entertained you by playing along, this is what he told himself anyway. Looking into your soul as his lips clung to the rubber so sweetly, his dextrous tongue working with more enthusiasm than you expected… You didn’t think he’d look so pretty doing this.

Once his spit generously coated the dildo, you dragged it from his mouth, depriving his twitching length of your sopping pussy as you sat between his opened legs. Opening your own, wide enough that he could see the lustrous stage you’d set. You easily slid the dildo, gleaming with his saliva, into your beckoning cunt as he was made to watch.

Well played, he thought… You looked so beautiful as your cunt clung to the dildo that was just in his mouth, your contorted face making it evident that you simply wanted to be filled… Your pace was slow with purpose as you imagined him fucking you like this… He wanted so badly to be inside you, to hear your abashed, small, voice call him dirty things. You swore you saw his cock jolt with impatience. 

His right hand lunged unhurriedly towards his sex, but you swatted it away, “You’re only allowed to watch.”

His lovely voice shaped as a threatening laugh met your ears. Threatening as in he’d let your antics wrack up to be used against you at the right time. His eyes were forced to shade themselves as he looked down over his toned torso, watching you intently. The only way you would be able to dominate him would be by his own hand… or cock. You had so many opportunities to learn from his example, though your mind was probably checked out at that point.

His movements to resist your words ceased, watching as you increased the pace of your self-assault, glorious sounds of your wetness snapping into his ears. His lower lip tucked between his teeth, your left hand playing mindlessly at the soft skin of his upper thigh… He couldn’t help but feel the fault lines of his heart threaten to burst at the lovely sight before him. It felt like his gaze alone was propelling your hand, the tension was caustic and heavy.

You brought yourself to the edge of your release, movements shaky as you caged over him like he’d done to you before. You only had to bring the toy to his lips for him to gladly collect your sweet, his moans, deeper than the Chasm, almost infusing with it as he did. He loved how your eyes branded him as you watched… Maybe you were learning something after all… How to adeptly destroy him, one glance at a time.

Setting the dildo aside, at this point, you just wanted to kiss him. His lips were glossed with a brew of spit and cum, but that only made it more enticing. Like leaves brushing against each other in a gentle breeze, your lips found his. His whole body felt particularly sensitive, your nips at his lips almost a tickle as you teased him. That is, until he captured your face between his hands, lifting his head to press up into you. It felt like the kiss had been placed into a kiln, searing and intense as he was exposing how much he just needed to have you. His heart attached to yours like jumper cables, reinventing what yearning felt like as his tongue swam against yours, disregarding aesthetics and grace.

You both were only left more of a mess than before. As you parted, briefly a salty thread of combined spit, like a spider web, hung between your lips before snapping silently.

His hands pressed down along your curves as if shaping clay, pausing at your waist. Your arms were growing tired, and you couldn’t keep your mind off the gravitational pull of your throbbing cunt, knowing how his cock merely sat in wait. You wanted to lay on his chest… For some reason, his grin only grew.

“Was it worth it? Do you feel transformed, master?” He batted at you with his words like a cat playing with its prey, knowing it was his turn, whether you decided that or not.

“You did well, darling.” You commented in a voice that mocked his own, causing you both to laugh in unison for the second time. Your head dropped in a forfeit as he squeezed your sides.

“Making fun of me, now… I see.” He clicked his tongue, returning to the program that he would see through to the end, “Go stand by the stool in front of the mirror.” He ordered as his hands dropped in time with a sensation of excitement in your stomach, starting with his interpretation of this act.

You obeyed, the kinetic flow of wanting to please leading you to where he directed. You were made to observe your naked body, though distracted when he approached from behind and sat beside you on the stool, “I want you to lay over me, your pretty ass perked for me.”

He could see a familiar gleam in your eyes that sent him universal, knowing you were following his every word like footsteps in snow. Bridged over his legs, his right hand found your plump ass as if it were a magnet, caressing your supple skin. You knew what his intentions were, though, bracing for how and when he’d deliver his first blow.

“Do you truly think, darling… That you’d be able to overpower me without me letting you?”

Whatever your answer was, he wanted to feel the recoil regardless, “You’d just tell me your submission was ‘playing along’ even if I did.”

His hand lifted but a few inches to collide with your ass cheek, gathering your flesh in his hand like a duvet, “It’s against your nature...”

You reeled in how he assumed his harsh demeanor so effortlessly, “Do you think the other Harbingers know you’d clearly bow to my will under your guise of controlling the uncontrollable?”

This clap to your ass felt more personal, making you wince as a squeak snuck out of your throat, “I don’t give a single fuck about those insolent boors. I’d not admit your curiosity in them, though you know I’ll just hit you harder.” Your eyes locked on his own in the mirror as he had well already caught onto your antics.

“So it goes… Perhaps I do wonder about them.” You pushed the topic over the cliff, the punishment he’d give could only really be a reward.

He tried to not allow his heart to be swayed by your taunts, “You think they aren’t familiar with your pathetic moans coming from my office?”

“If they’re anything like you, that’d only intrigue them further, I would think…”

Smack.

This time you gave him a moan of rejoice, growing addicted to the sting, his hand falling over the crest of your ass to explore your cunt. Your wetness overflowed to coat your clit as it threatened to drip, loving his aggression.

“Hmm… I’ve barely grazed your desperate cunt until now, and it seems you’re trying to insinuate something foolish. Then tell me, my sweet, insatiable, darling, what or who is it that you want?” His middle and ring fingers pressed into your soaked, petal-like lips, coaxing you to answer. 

You were debating… Should you weaponize another man’s name to provoke him… It feels like foul play, as you really had eyes for no other madman but himself, he knows this well. But what if…

“You’re always hanging around that opulent-looking one with glasses… Pantalone, was it?” You chose to improvise listlessly with war anyway.

He gritted his teeth, eyes diverting away from you for the first time. He knew you were just trying to play the cards you had, God, he knew. But something inside could not prevent the inherent, possessive tendencies from making some kind of appearance. Of all the Harbingers, of course you’d choose Pantalone as your mode of combat. He’s such a duplicitous excuse of a man.

His two fingers plunged into your hole, he watched as the muscles in your back tensed, feeling your front wriggle over his legs, “I see how he looks at you, darling. He is so acquainted with wealth, he’s used to having everything available to him… He sees you with me and knows his ability to be conscious of his own existence will be compromised if he even thinks about touching you.”

His hand retracted to instead give your weeping clit a generous slap, the wetness enhancing the sound, then sinking back into you. His lithe fingers felt so dizzying as they paced against your spongy walls, how could you think of anything but that?

“Really, I brought it up because the thought of them seeing you like this turned me on, not because I want to fuck them.”

“Invariably, if they somehow saw me like this, you’d be the only logical cause… Look in the mirror, look at yourself.” His free hand slid under your face to push your cheek in the mirror’s direction, “Who are you bent over so pitifully for right now? It almost sounds as if you’d like an audience…” He noted where your eyes were as you followed his roaming hand at your backside, “Tell me.” He demanded, swatting your ass once more. He couldn’t chain back the grin on his face, waiting to see which title you’d attempt to christen him with.

You weren’t about to give in to what he wanted most, your pure humiliation…, so you opted to at least repay him equally, “You, Zandik… Master.”

“Really…” His fingers returned to your sopping cunt, more so as a reminder rather than a means of pleasure, “I think you know what I want to hear… I’ll give you another chance.”

Your face cringed slightly, though that wasn’t enough to disguise the way your hole clenched around his stilled fingers at the thought, “Fuck…”

He hunched down to ensure his words were clear, “You brought this up… It was eating away at your mind so badly that you thought it was safe to bring it up to me? It’s at the tip of your little tongue, darling… Your face is such a tender shade of red…” His hand pumped slowly into you, as if to lure it out of you with his feigned compassion, “Tell me, pretty baby, whose fingers are inside you right now.”

Your eyes looked to the supposed heavens for a moment, “I hate you.”

He scoffed sharply, “That sounds more in character… You’d be such a contemptuous little brat for me…” He gathered your hair haphazardly, pulling your head upwards, somehow amplifying his ministrations, “Go on, who’s got you bent at his will.” His tone was low though infected with his shit-eating grin.

“Fine– You… Daddy.” Your voice had almost entirely checked out. You knew he wouldn’t let you leave this position until you did so.

He laughed a riot right into your ear, though hissed like the snake he is afterward at the sheer pleasure of winning, maintaining his pace, “You look as if you could hurl, darling, but I don’t think I’ve felt your cute cunt clench around me quite so hard… You’re dripping down my fingers, I ought to make you clean this mess up.”

You whined as he increased his pace, egging you on, “That’s right… So fucking tight…”

In actuality, he didn’t care much for the pet name but rather just your adorable embarrassment, so he decided he wasn’t convinced, “Why not embrace it a little more…” Getting you close to the edge, retreating his hand only to prod at your lips, “Why not taste your humiliation, since you hate calling me ‘daddy’ so much? Hmm?”

You were shivering as the denied orgasm left you high, though not so much dry, taking his slender fingers into your mouth. Your tongue weaved between them so as to clean them completely, his eyes sharp, jabbing into your face as he watched. That feeling again, as if an hourglass had been flipped, all the blood rushed to his core as he fucked your mouth with his hand. When he was satisfied with your work, he slowly dragged his soaked fingers along your back to trace back down. You shook at the chilling trail it left.

“Hmm,” There was an arrogant triumph to his voiced sigh, “So sensitive, too… It drives me crazy, darling.” He moved to grip your waist, urging you off of him, “I wonder… Would you suck cock for your master?” His words wagged their fingers in your ears as he adjusted you to sit on your heels before him.

“And you say I talk shit?” You ran your hands flush up his parted thighs, observing how cute his folded tummy looked as he sat, watching you. His faint happy trail, the glazed plains of his pale chest in contrast to his florid, angular face. For a moment, he said not a word, realizing how desperately he required your touch, in any capacity. His cock leaned heavily to the side, as if in its last attempt of an exhausted taunt for your lips. Your hands closed in on him, his eyes fluttering as they gently pulled at his flushed length.

“I love it when you moan for me…” You mentioned as an aside before taking his swollen tip between your velveteen lips. His head fell back, and a groan, like a smoke ring, hovered to the ceiling.

His fingertips pushed their way through your hair, though with no other intent but seemingly to distract himself from losing himself too soon. He played with your hair almost domestically, petting you along as you took as much of his throbbing cock as you could. You could tell he so badly wanted to buck into your mouth, your hands gripping him at the pivot of his thighs and hips as he writhed… You wished he’d let you in on this kind of raw desperation more often, as this version of him played in your mind so sweetly.

“Such a good girl for me, fuck.” He’d never called you that before, but the sensation it conveyed in your brain felt as if your soul had fallen out of the window of your body. He had you where you couldn’t refute it, making you swallow that, too, without resistance, “I knew you’d like that…” He laughed wickedly despite his exasperated state, and it felt so good, “My good girl…” He almost sang it down to you the second time, making your chest waver, coasting your hands upwards against his tense torso. He untangled his hands from your hair, easily blanketing yours against his waist, effectively lulled by the lush of your touch.

His fingertips dragged down the stretch of your arms, over the horizon of your shoulders to round back to your face, causing you to pause in wait. Your eyes lazily gravitated up to his own, his face was tipped as he peered over his nose in his lecherous way, “Come here, darling, where you belong…”

Upon your standing, he twisted you around between his hands to face away from him, then pulled down at your hips to finally lower your pliant, sobbing cunt onto him. The friction of his firm chest against your back alone was tantalizing enough, his hot breath steaming your skin from behind making your body slack in his grasp. A hand left your side, gripping his length to align himself. The initial pleasure of his tip making contact with the magma that was your arousal against him was suffocating, your eyes heavy with refined lust, though you couldn’t tear them away. He lowered you onto his cock at a meticulous speed, so dreadfully slow, you swear you could feel his pulse. His groan of contagious desire shot through your spine as you watched him disappear inside you as he left you to sit completely full of him for his own amusement.

“Look at you, pretty darling, how you like to watch yourself take my cock so beautifully.” His wet lips played on your shoulder blade to leaf between his words, “How I wish this very image were branded into my mind…” Moving towards the crook of your neck, your head inadvertently swayed to the side to allow access, his hands forcing your hips to grind in his lap. His teeth brushed over the sensitive base of your neck, your shoulders raising as he teased your skin. You felt as if you were losing your grip on a certain aspect of consciousness, the way his thick length stirred inside you, brushing and shocking every nerve.

“Keep moving just like that…” He instructed in a whisper as his hands left to tend to your breasts, adding yet another layer of dizziness as he pinched and kneaded. He loved the way the soft skin of your ass brushed against his inner thighs, your cunt tied and bowed around his shaft so perfectly. He’d pause at your neck here and there to peek at your face, a delirious focus on maintaining your movements… Your precious sounds that now flowed shamelessly from your lips, he truly could never get enough of you.

You tried to lift yourself, needing to be properly rearranged from the inside out, but he halted your attempt, unraveling a whine, “I know, I know… My good girl has been working so hard…” His eyes fixated on how your slick literally overflowed, trickling down to his balls in a lewd stream. How you squeezed around him upon that name… It was too much for him to bear, “You really do like that, huh darling?”

“Mmhm…,” is all you could manage, your thighs twitching impatiently, an indescribable feeling winding up your body, “God, please just let me move.”

“I didn’t even have to ask you to beg, you sorry little thing.” He guided you to lift, your vision flickering at the sheer strength of the awaited friction, “Tell me more… How much do you want me to fucking destroy you?”

You gave in to his game, unable to resist, “So badly, Zandik, please.”

Finally, your hole just barely reached the precipice of his raging cock, holding you there, “I could make you cum just like this, giving you only what you barely need as you wished I’d fuck you right– Please what?”

“Fuck… Please, please fuck me, I need your cock… Please.” You squirmed as your voice was hoarse and almost unfamiliar to even yourself as you pleaded.

He slammed you down onto him easily, given how soaked you were, hardly able to wait himself, “When you’re this wet, I would think my cock is the only thing you need.” He talked both you and himself into oblivion, sticky slick between both his and your thighs accentuating the frantic collision of your bodies. His fingers were soldered to your waist, gripping you as he moved your body at his pace, watching as your breasts flailed rhythmically in his thrusts’ wake. He wished there was a way to consume the buttery noises you were making on top of him as his own bled into them.

You adored how his lips hung open, how his brows tensed upward as he exhibited both complete focus and abandonment, his mind devoted only to the way he fucked you in this moment. You found him infuriatingly handsome as it is, but to see him so breathless, his vast vocabulary reduced to exclusively vile taunts, he was utterly ethereal like this.

His lips curled up as you eyed him so intensely, forcing you off of him, the sudden vacancy in your cunt making you want to scream. He stood behind you, feeling up your front as he did so, “I can’t describe the feeling I get when you look at me like that, darling…” He turned you to face him, hastily stealing your lips for a kiss that dug into your chest like his nails did your back as he searched your skin hungrily. 

Upon stopping, he moved to hold your chin in place, your face displayed in his hand like a gemstone gleaming in the prongs of a ring. His swollen lips were still close, his crimson eyes had a glow to them, almost, cascading a dense shadow of need over your features, “However I may call you, you will most importantly, always, be mine. …And I hope… I will always be yours, darling.”

[cupcakeslushie]

With the newest update, it's got me thinking a lot about Karai's role in this au. More on her actions and treatment of Leo and what lies in the future for her. It's been mentioned and made obvious that the "sibling" (i say in quotes since Karai doesn't even see Leo as an equal) relationship between Leo and Karai is nothing short on unhealthy and toxic. Thus, Leo learning what a real relationship with siblings is with the Hamato family. Karai wants to be the better soldier in the Shredder's eyes and seems to take any opportunity to bring down Leo. But something I keep thinking about is what happens to her after Leo has the emperyon removed and (along with the apocalypse future) after stopping the invasion. Basically, is there still a chance at some sort of redemption for her, or are her actions throughout the au unable to be forgiven. It's said that after Leo leaves the Foot, she tries to prove to Shredder that she didn't even need him to begin with and can handle herself just fine. The only time we've seen her act nice towards Leo is right after the session with Kitsune, where Leo is pretty out of it, but who's to say how often that happens. And then there's Leo himself and how he sees Karai after all that happens. Does he just try and forget about her, or does he hold any kind of resentment like Shredder. There's the question of whether he would be willing to forgive her for her actions. Though this isn't even taking into how Karai wasn't actually Shredder daughter but Splinter's instead.

I know that the answer to this is most likely spoilers, but I could into a whole character analysis on whether redemption is an option for Karai or if she's reached a point like Shredder. It would be interesting to hear you thought on what you can say. Though for the time being, I can wait to see what happens! Thanks for coming to my TedTalk, I hope you have a great day, and remember to stay hydrated! :D

Some of the future stuff is kinda spoilers, but I will say, she’s not a monster on the same level as Saki. She’s certainly not an angel, but she will have her own arc and we’ll see how the chips fall.

At the moment in the comic, Karai thinks seeing Leo fail is a necessary stepping stone to proving her own worth and she’s very bitter over Leo earning a commander title before her. Once Leo leaves, and she has most of Saki’s attention on her, she realizes that the Shredder will never be pleased, Karai starts to rethink her feelings toward Leo, and realizes how much she misses how they used to be. She also has no idea of Shredder’s full plan to create his own dark armor to imprison Leo.

In the past Karai, Usagi, and Leo were…friends (after a rocky start) for a very few short years. Usagi being probably the most distant, for the obvious reasons of hating Saki and the Foot Clan. But with Karai and Leo following him around, training together, and bunking together, he eventually stops taking his anger out on them, and becomes a reluctant participant in their childish hi-jinks. Unfortunately, that does not last long.

Around a year before Usagi manages his escape, Leo’s goofing around on a mission leads to Karai getting seriously hurt. As a result Saki punishes Leo so severely and Leo gets the crack on his plastron. Usagi goes to see Leo, but it’s like he’s a totally different person after that. Leo no longer smiles or jokes and takes training much too seriously.

Karai isn’t much better. She seems to meet Leo’s cold attitude with one of her own, and her teasing becomes much harsher and biting. They all grow distant and Usagi sees no other option but to try and escape. Usagi even extends his hand to Leo when the two cross paths, hoping that Leo would snap out of this strange, new personality he’s adopted, but when Leo doesn’t even react, Usagi turns and leaves for good.

Things get even more strained without Usagi around to act as mediator. The only time Karai allows herself to show she cares, are the moments after Leo’s sessions because he is so out of it. She assumes he doesn’t remember enough that she can be a little softer with him, and Leo usually never calls attention to those times, so who knows.

Once Leo spends time with his family, and sees how a healthy sibling relationship should look, he often wonders how things might’ve been different growing up in the safety of the Hamato Clan. When the family learns that Karai is actually their sister, Leo makes it his mission to save her from the Foot Clan.

[coolaboutlucy]

Au: You're a famous popstar on tour, and Abby is one of your backup dancers. You guys get very touchy and flirty during certain songs, and the fans start to notice how playful you're both being with each other. You guys try to hold back from each other, but eventually, you get together and fall for each other.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 𝙘𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 ꒱ ˎˊ˗ | 𝙖. 𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣

pairing: abby anderson x fem!reader

tags: kinda.. loser!abby-ish??, making out, minor touching, yearning for eachother, no smut, would this be fluff?, idk if it is, happy ending, alternate universe - no outbreak, in our popular era!!, LOTS of tension (that’s kinda poorly written), i literally know nothing of how a stage crew works, ive only seen two movies about how tours work, so bare with me

a/n: AYEEEE MUST BE THE MONAAYYYY!! im trying something a lil different (but like.. not rlly..) also!!! this is my first time ever fulfilling a request!!! i hope this is good.. i haven’t written anything for a while. also also!!! i litcherally just remembered this song existed today and (a lil lore), originally i was gonna title this dont stop the music (like the rihanna song) but then this crossed my mind and i translated the lyrics and it just.. fits!!!! 😄 ok last thing, this is the outfit inspo for this fanfic! latrice is sooo pretty and this outfit is fire!!!

The ticket lines were flowing with people, like, lots of them. More than you’d ever seen during your tour. Tonight’s show was in Seattle. Your set started in fifteen minutes and you and your team were going through the logistics of how things would go. You stand there, hands on your hips as you keep a straight and serious face while lending a listening ear, giving a few nods from time to time. Abby couldn’t keep her eyes off of you. Her eyes kept tracing over you. The entirety of you. The oversized denim, the Calvin Klein print across your thong, the black top looking just perfect against your skin, everything drove her insane. She’d have to thank your stylists personally the next time she saw them because each time she found herself looking at you, her face would heat up. A loud clap from the director snapped her out of her trance. She followed the other backup dancers, who were also following you. Before entering the stage, you take a breath and hope for the best.

   You take a few steps on the large stage, smiling as the crowd roars in cheers and applause. You wave as you approach your mic. Your in-ears had already been in and you were waiting for the signal to begin your set. Before this, you thank the crowd for coming and some other things before it begins. It starts off slow, a soft song that hadn’t required much choreography was sung. Your voice had the crowd entranced, smiling and recording you. The band played in the same smooth and entrancing manner you had already set. After the song concludes, you begin moving to your position for the next song. “Song begins in 3.. 2.. 1..” the woman in your in-ears said as a metronome ticked at the same beat of the song. The lights on stage turn red, smoke rises from the stage. The song was sensual and provocative, your voice was smooth (as always) and siren-like. You and Abby find yourself dancing up against each other. Caught up in your song, your hand snakes around her waist as you sing the provocative lyrics to her with half lidded eyes and a small smile. Abby panicked internally. She curses under her breath as you sing to her. Her body heats up and her heart rate increases. She heard the loud noise of squealing and applauding from the crowd. She felt dizzy as you and her parted ways momentarily as you continued singing. Your touch sear on her skin, 1000 degrees is what it felt like to her. Your hands lingered on her body way longer than you practiced. And god, those eyes she gives you. They made you feel a little dizzy. Those green eyes under the red light, the strands of blond hair sticking to her forehead, the way her eyes fluttered whenever she made eye contact with you made your heart flutter. It seemed so unreal, the way her large hands rested on your body whenever the move called for it or how she smiled at you nervously when you got a little too close. Anyone with eyes could see that you both had some kinda feelings for eachother. And this definitely wouldn’t be easy to forget.

   The concert went on for what seemed like forever before you were on your last song. You and the rest of your dancers stand in the middle of the stage, attempting to catch your breath as you hold your ending pose. Abby looks at you and you look at her. The tension from before begins to rise again. It was palpable. “You don’t know what you do to me.” Abby whispered, only for your ears. “I know exactly what I do to you, Abby.” You respond with a smile. After a few more seconds, you finally exit the stage with everyone else. You enter your dressing room, closing the door behind you as you take a few photos of yourself, uploading them to social media before scrolling through your notifications. As usual, they were full of mentions, comments, and likes. They were also full of your little.. moments on stage with Abby. Your body becomes hot as you watch it over. You loved the way she looked at you. Like you were some sort of goddess. Or like you were the most beautiful woman in the world. You find yourself smiling at your phone as you read your comments from your fans talking about the tension between the two of you. 

   As Abby sat with the other dancers, all she could think about was you. “God, you’ve got it bad, Abby.” One woman with curly hair says as she looks at her for a moment, then playfully rolls her eyes. “I’ve got it bad?” Abby acted clueless, but she knew exactly what the woman meant. “Oh shut up, don’t play dumb with. I see exactly how the two of you look at eachother. If you like her that much then you should just like, tell her or something.” The woman suggested with a shoulder shrug, then picking up her phone and texting with someone. In a perfect world, Abby would’ve already asked you out, and she would’ve already been your girlfriend. But she didn’t want you to think she was like, weird or something. “I mean.. the worst she could say is no, right?” Abby mumbles to herself. “Eeexactly. Now go.” The woman suggested with a smile.

   And after that little push, she walks to your dressing room. Her hand trembled on the doorknob. That was just her nerves trying to pull her back into the other room. Her hands become clammy along with her nerves. But Abby’s boots definitely weren’t quiet, and you’d already known she was there. “The doors unlocked.” You yell out to her. “..Goddamnit.” She mumbled to herself as she opened the door, walking in and closing it. You were still looking down at your phone for a moment before you turned it off and look over at her. “Hey.” “Hi.” You smile at her. “So uh, what brings ya here?” “Just wanted to check on you that’s all, but if you’re busy I’ll just go—“ Her hand darts towards the doorknob and you stand up and stop her. “No.. stay. I’m not busy.” Abby never listened to someone so fast. Her eyes meet yours and she looks around the door nervously. There was a small smile on her face. You found her nervous smile cute. You place your hand on her face, gently turning her face to look at you.

   “Keep those pretty eyes on me, Abby.” You whisper to her as you look her in the eyes. Her face heats up again as you speak to her in that soft voice. “God.. why do you do this to me?” She asked as she looked at you. Her eyes linger on your lips and then returning to your eyes. For the time she’d become acquainted with you, never did she think she’d be here feeling so tempted to ask you out. “Abby..” You whispered to her again as you looked at her, getting a little closer to her. “I like you.” “I like you too. Please let me kiss you.” She sounded so needy, and you couldn’t just ignore that voice. Almost in an instant, you crash your lips against hers. It just felt so.. right. And so natural. Her hands gently touch your arm, then your back. She drags her hand up your back and gently resting it on the back of your neck. Her touch left goosebumps across your skin. God she was so gentle, and it drove you crazy. Your hand finds itself entangled in her hair that was wavy, not being in its usual braid. She let out a little whine the more she kissed you. Slowly she pushes her tongue into your mouth, and they dance furiously, intertwining in a passionate dance for a few more seconds before she pulls away to catch her breath. 

   You both look at eachother breathlessly. That moment alone had solidified that you had in fact fallen for eachother. “Again.” Abby says, and you nod before you begin making out again. You stumble towards a small soft. Abby sits down and you straddle her lap. Your lips were on hers for a few moments before moving to her neck. You move slowly, making her wait. Her hands rest on your hips, and occasionally slide up and down your thighs. “God, you have no idea how bad I've wanted this. Watching you all that time, the way you look at me, that voice of yours. It drives me crazy.” For the duration of the tour, you had been restricting yourself. They say not to mix love with your work life, and in some cases it would make sense. But how could you ever do that for a girl this irresistible? Of course Abby restrained herself in the same manner because she didn’t wanna ruin things between the two of you, but now you were here and you had no intention whatsoever about going back to the way things were. Every wall you’d built up had been smashed down by the flurry of emotions Abby brought to you with her touch, her voice, and her want for you. There was no ‘line’ that you could or couldn’t cross, because.. the world is infinite. And in this moment, you felt infinite. And it was all because of her. Your lips trail back up to hers for a moment before she pulls away to say something. “I swear, after this tour, I’ll properly ask you out.” Abby declares as she looks at you. “I can’t wait. I want to be with you now. Abby, I want to be your girlfriend.” You admit as you look her in the eyes. A part of her hadn’t expected that. Her eyes widen a little in shock before she smiled at you. “.. Alright then. We’re officially girlfriends.” She said with a smile before you lean down to kiss her again.

[valiantstarlights]

[Urban Fantasy Spy AU] Try to Hide Your Hand

Agent Hob Gadling and Tech Officer Dream Endless go on a mission together to extract Agent Ethel Cripps from Fawney Rig.

This is a @dreamlingforukraine fic commission for @seiya-starsniper. ✨️ Thank you for your generosity and your patience 🙇‍♀️ Sorry I went kinda crazy with this. But I had a lot of fun worldbuilding, so 😂

The title is from the song, "You Know My Name" by Chris Cornell, which is the theme song for the James Bond (Craig) film, Casino Royale.

CW: Dark themes because the Burgesses and their goons are the scum of the earth. There will be murder and noncon pet play, but the noncon is only on Burgess and Co.'s part. Dream and Hob are communicating with each other all the time and everything is consensual between the two of them. I promise there's gonna be fluffy fluff in the end. 🙏

Hob sits with his legs spread open, Dream kneeling between them, his dark head of hair resting against the junction of Hob's pelvis and thigh, and he hates it.

To be clear, he doesn't hate Dream. Not right now, anyway.

No, it's the situation they're in that he hates in particular right now.

Agent Ethel Cripps, The Agency's undercover spy assigned to monitor and report on the Burgesses, reached out to Head Office less than a month ago and said she wanted out. She has requested that she be extracted ASAP.

'I'm pregnant,' she said in her encrypted voice mail. She sounded so near to tears that it moved Hob's heart when he first heard her message. 'I want to get out of here.'

According to her file, Agent Cripps has demon blood. It's weak enough that she doesn't have the same strengths and weaknesses as her ancestors, but she still retained the classic half-demon appearance. Her file included a photo of her: a young blonde woman with delicate curving white horns complementing her short bob. She had been smiling in her picture.

Hob hasn't gone on to a mission with her yet since she's only been with The Agency for less than a century, but he heard that she was good at her job, feeding The Agency rare but important information about the Burgesses' human and creature trafficking schedules, resulting in many successful rescue operations.

Thus, her case was deemed urgent and important enough for The Agency to send in two of their best to extract her: a field agent to be the face and the muscle, and a tech officer to make sure the three of them get in and out safely without setting off any alarms, potentially leave listening bugs behind or retrieve important documents, and arrange for transportation, accommodations, and other essential minutiae.

Unfortunately, the two people assigned to take on the mission are Hob Gadling and Dream Endless, and everyone who has been in The Agency for more than a couple of years know that the two of them do not exactly get along.

More unfortunately, they have to pose as a human master and their half-other pet, because it's the standard within the Burgess family. Roderick has his own pet, and so does his remaining son. And so does everyone who is anyone within their ranks.

All half-other pets have either been trafficked from somewhere or were born in captivity. They're effectively modern day slaves.

Hob (a full human with an immortality mutation) has been working for The Agency for around 600 years now. But he remembers the day that certain bombshell was dropped on him and Dream.

Dream (a half-eldritch being along with his siblings, and who has been working for The Agency for longer than Hob has been alive) had sat so still on his side of the table that he could have been mistaken for a statue.

Hob had immediately protested. Slavery of all kinds repulses him, and though he dislikes Dream's guts, he would not have him act as someone lesser than him. Having had to go undercover as a slaver in the 1700s had been his worst mission, and he would rather not repeat the experience.

Death, Dream's older sister and their direct superior, listened to his tirade patiently, before telling him that other avenues have been considered; of course they have. But going undercover as a human master and his half-other pet is the one avenue that guarantees the highest chance of success.

All they had to do is show up at one of the Burgesses' casinos, have Hob win enough rounds with Dream as his 'companion,' commit enough violence where cameras are located, and they would soon be invited to Fawney Rig. Once there, Hob will be invited to play against the captains and the lieutenants. He'll have to win until they get into the same game as Agent Cripps and her human master.

Agent Cripps had not disclosed just who her human master is, which leads The Agency to believe that it might be either Roderick or Randall Burgess. Hob is going to have to win a bazillion games.

"If it's the games you are worried about," Dream said, speaking to him for the first time since they entered the room, "you need not worry. I can count cards, and have quite the skill for card games. We will, of course, have to devise a reliable method of nonverbal signals between the two of us so we can communicate with each other without saying a word; but it shouldn't be too difficult."

"Yeah," Hob spat at him. "Because that's the thing I'm most worried about."

Dream had frowned at him and said, quite stupidly, in Hob's opinion, "What else are you worried about, then?"

Hob had scoffed in disbelief, stood up, excused himself, and headed straight to The Agency's training salles to let out some steam. He imagined he was punching Roderick and Randall Burgess's faces, all the while cursing the day Dream was dropped on his head as a baby because that is the only reasonable explanation why he can be so fucking stupid.

He must have been at it for an hour when he realized that Dream was in the same room as him. He wondered how long the man had been standing there.

"What do you want?" he snapped. He didn't mean to. He's just so, so mad. At Lord Time and Lady Night. Who must have dropped Dream as a child for a minimum of fifty times. "You here to tell me the mission is important? Because yeah, I know."

"I'm here to remind you of your duty to The Agency," Dream told him. "I was under the impression that you didn't need any reminding, and yet, here we are."

Hob snorted and wiped the sweat out of his eyes. "Yeah, right." Like Dream would stoop so low as to take time out of his day to find where Hob is just to insult him. "What's the real reason you're here?"

Dream fidgeted minutely. Anyone else wouldn't have noticed, but Hob did. "I have agreed to go on this mission," he said, "and I would like for you to be my partner."

For a moment, it was so silent in the salles that a pin drop would have sounded like a gunshot.

"You fucking what?" Hob demanded. "Why the fuck would you agree? And why in god's name do you want me to be your partner?"

'You hate my guts,' he didn't say. 'You'd rather go down ten flights of stairs than share an elevator ride with me.'

Dream let out a laborious sigh, like Hob is being the stupid one here. "The mission will require my partner to be indifferent and occasionally cruel to me. I had thought that it would be an easy task for you."

Hob was actually getting a headache from this. "You thought it would be easy-- Dream. You know that kind of play has to be consensual, right? And maybe that's not how Burgess and his goons do it, but it's how it's done, normally. Please tell me you know that."

Dream pursed his lips, no doubt offended by Hob's perceived slight to his intelligence. Whatever. Hob was already so fucking tired. "Would you rather another tech officer accompany you on this mission, then?"

Hob immediately thought of Eleanor, but just as quickly dismissed it. He and Eleanor dated a while back in the 1500s, but she was married now, and going on this mission would be weird for them both. But he's not going to tell Dream all of that, so instead he asked a question of his own. "What about you? Wouldn't you rather go on this mission with another field agent you actually get along with?"

Specifically, Hob was thinking of Corinthian (who is a vampire? Hob isn't sure), who oozes sex appeal every second of his life, and was Dream's favorite field agent for always returning tech in repairable conditions, even if he has to lose an occasional eye for it.

Or heck, maybe even Shaxberd, that stuck-up, mousy-looking simp (who is definitely a were-sewer rat). Hob didn't think he'd do a good job playing as Dream's human master believably, though.

"No," Dream said to his shoes. "You are...adequately competent in what you do, and data shows that the two of us working on this mission together would result in a higher chance of success. It is why my sister called for us in the first place."

Hob mouthed 'adequately competent' to himself and incredulously shook his head. "That might be the nicest thing you ever said to me in 600 years, and I still feel insulted."

"Good," Dream quipped. "You should be grateful I didn't give you any more praise than that, else your head become too big to fit through The Agency's doors."

Christ. Hob could already see how many headache pills he's going to have to take if he goes on this mission with Dream.

Not that he has already decided to go.

"Fine," Hob said, and turned his back on Dream to face the training dummy again. Time to wallop Dream's parents for child abuse once more. "I'll think about it."

"Think quickly," Dream said, and also turned to leave. "That is, if you can manage to do so without hurting yourself."

Just to spite him, Hob immediately called Death and agreed to be Dream's partner as soon as Dream left the salles.

--

And now, a couple of weeks later, in the dungeon below Fawney Rig, Dream is on his knees between Hob's legs, wearing only a black diaphanous robe and bejewelled chains, both functional and decorative, breathing on Hob's (still) clothed dick (thank god), while Hob plays with Roderick and Randall Burgess, along with five of their most trusted advisors. Two have already lost, and they have gone up to their rooms to lick their wounds and perhaps take their anger out on their pets.

Everyone had laughed when Randall shared that thought, and Hob did too, even if he felt sick to his stomach while doing so.

Hob takes a deep breath as subtly as he can. Roderick Burgess is sitting on his immediate right, and he supposes it means that he's sitting in a place of honor, regardless of how dubious that honor is. Next to Roderick is his son Randall, next to Randall is an empty seat where one of the advisors who lost had been sitting, and next to the empty chair is the machine that serves as the croupier.

Hob is surprised the croupier is not a sentient being, but he supposes that even advisors cannot be trusted not to cheat. The game, really, is how best to cheat without seeming to, and so far, Hob thinks he's winning.

Because Hob, personally? He's not that good at cards.

But Dream? Dream is a goddamn shark, and it is only thanks to him that Hob even got this far.

On the other side of the croupier sits an elegant old East Asian woman named Mrs. Chu, to her right is an empty chair where another advisor who lost had been sitting, next to that is a large bruiser of a man named Mr. Melendez, next to him is a walrus-looking guy named Mr. Wallace, and on his right is Hob, who had been going by Mr. Rupert Gadlen for the past couple of weeks.

And of course, all the pets are either on their knees on the floor, or on their master's lap. Dream had signalled to Hob that he'd rather be kneeling on the floor, and Hob signalled an 'okay' back, even as he made a lewd comment to get Dream to drop on his knees.

The group had laughed warmly at him, thinking that he really is one of them. Hob had immediately signalled his apology to Dream right after he sat down.

Also, it turns out, Agent Cripps is posing as the pet of Roderick Burgess himself. So that's fun. She's sitting on his lap with her back towards them, and Hob doesn't know how they're going to signal each other what the plan is, but Dream signalled him to leave it up to him, and so Hob did.

He trusts Dream.

They might dislike each other for a multitude of reasons going back 600 years, but he trusts him when it comes down to it. And he has trusted Dream to win all his games for the past couple of weeks, so he'll trust him this final night.

And then they'll finally be able to go back home and put this entire mess of a mission behind them.

Hob almost shot an entire room full of Fawney Rig security personnel the moment one of the guards clapped a power suppressing shackle around Dream's neck, and he's been gritting his teeth for what seems like two entire weeks straight, thinking about Dream shivering and cold and being treated poorly since this mission has started, so yeah. He's so fucking ready to complete this mission.

Preferably by shooting everyone in sight as a parting gift and burning Fawney Rig to the ground.

But he will not shoot until Dream signals him to.

And Dream has been feeding him information about the other people in the room via Morse Code to his leg during lulls in the game, so Hob knows who the biggest threats are, who is doing poorly financially and can't afford to be reckless and lose, and in what order he should shoot when Dream gives the signal.

Hob replies to Dream with a pat on the head for 'I understand,' a gentle tug on Dream's ear for 'Repeat,' and a firm squeeze on his shoulder for 'Continue?'

The 'continue' sign is mostly for the games. Hob would caress Dream's cheek and press Morse Code on his skin telling him the cards on his hand as well as the cards in the middle of the table, and Dream would squeeze his ankle once for 'yes,' and twice for 'no.'

And then there's an entire separate system on just how much money Hob should bet and how he should come off as: cocky or unsure, neutral or reckless.

Hob may be a little in love with Dream's brain as he had Hob learn all these signals before the mission. Just his brain though. Because Dream as a teacher has a lot of room for improvement. Like, an entire ballroom's worth of room.

Hob places the blame, once again, at Lord and Lady Endless's feet.

"Mr. Gadlen?"

Hob's gaze snaps to Mr. Wallace, the walrus-looking guy to his left, as the man waits for his response.

A quick glance around the table shows that no one has folded yet.

'Yes,' Dream signs. 'Raise.'

"Raise," Hob says obediently, and slides a couple more stacks of chips to the middle of the table after Dream taps out how much he should raise.

"You're pretty ballsy for a newcomer," Randall Burgess says, and pinches his pet's nipple, making them cry out in pain.

His pet is a twenty-something brown-skinned man wearing the same kind of robes as Dream, but in green. He looks miserable and drugged out of his mind, arms chained behind him, his balance on Randall's lap precarious.

Hob bares his teeth in a facsimile of a smile. "Well, you know what they say: no guts, no glory."

"Indeed," Roderick Burgess says to Hob's right. For now, he seems content in ignoring Agent Cripps on his lap, and Hob hates that he's thankful for even that small mercy. "I built this family's fearsome reputation with my own two hands from the ground up, and doing so got me covered in guts."

The remaining advisors chuckles at that, and so Hob does as well.

"That sure would explain your vigor, sir," Hob dares to say. He knows beforehand that Roderick favored boldness and praise from his underlings, and Hob has met a lot of people like him in his previous missions to know just how to play him. Because Roderick might be old for a human, but Hob is many times his elder.

Roderick stares him down for a moment before laughing. Right on cue, his advisors laugh along. "I think you would do well within my ranks, Mr. Gadlen," Roderick says. "Lord knows I need more bold and competent people around me."

Hob has heard the rumors about Roderick killing his other son a couple of years prior for being 'too weak.' He doesn't wonder if it's true. He knows it is.

"I'm flattered," Hob says. "Truly, I am. But I hope you still think well of me after I steal everyone's money tonight."

This time, there were no laugh cues, because everyone genuinely laughed at his audacity.

"Oh, yeah, I like him," Randall tells his father. "I think he'd do well managing the casino in Vegas or our chop shops in Leipzig. Whip the guys into shape and possibly bring in new customers."

Roderick hums and studies Hob over Agent Cripps's shoulder. "What say you, Mr. Gadlen? Joining the Burgess family is one of the best decisions you will ever make in your life, and we don't often ask people to join."

"Why invite me, then, if you don't mind me asking?" Hob asks. "I only wanted to win some cash a couple of weeks ago, and now here I am."

"Talent," Roderick says simply. "I've learned to recognize it over the years, and you have it in spades. And other than that, we can see that your morals align with ours, and that is a rarer thing nowadays. Tell me, have you ever killed a man?"

"Yeah," Hob says. He puts a hand on Dream's shoulder, just as Dream puts one hand around his ankle. Hob ready to ask, and Dream ready to give the signal, if need be. "Brief boxing stint in my twenties. A couple of thugs tried to rob me on my way home. Showed them what they were looking for."

Randall, to Hob's disgust, had dragged his pet to sit over his crotch area and was grinding against the man's ass. "How did you kill them?" he asks breathlessly.

Hob looks straight into Randall's eyes as he says his next words. "One of them got his head bashed against a wall. The other's head I cut off using the door of a closet that someone had thrown away."

Randall moans and continues dry humping his pet. Hob does not look away or make a face, but he makes a note to make the fucker's death slow and painful. Have him bleed for hours, maybe.

"Creative," Mrs. Chu says. Her dress made her look like a glittering red insect. "And have you ever went to jail?"

Hob smiles at her. "No, ma'am. And I never sent anyone to jail either. Why let them live for years when you can take their lives away yourself? I'm not one to deprive myself of the thrill of killing."

"Good," Roderick says approvingly. "Very good. I think you're exactly what we're looking for, Mr. Gadlen." Then, unexpectedly, "All in favor of him joining us?"

As it turns out, not everyone was on board. Mr. Melendez, the bruiser type, sitting on Mr. Wallace's left and partially covered by the man's bulk, and who has mostly been keeping silent this whole time, is very much against Hob joining the Burgess family right this second.

He threw his cards on the table, slammed his fist against the table's surface, and made the chips rattle and neatly stacked chip columns fall.

Roderick looks impassively at the man, visibly angered by his previously perfectly arranged chips now a disorganized mess in front of him. "Is there a problem, Federico?"

"A problem?" Federico Melendez repeats. "The problem, Mr. Burgess, is you letting a whelp join the family out of the blue when I had to wait for years to be given an invitation. And have I not proven myself to be better than him? Am I to be replaced?"

"I remember your initiation," Randall sneers at him. "The fact that you took too long to finish only means that you are, deep down, just another weak-willed piece of trash."

This is new information, evidenced by how Dream frantically taps, 'Initiation?' against Hob's thigh.

'IDK,' Hob taps quickly. Hopefully Dream knows what that means.

"Why you snivelling brat--"

"Enough," Roderick says, and looks to Hob. "Mr. Gadlen. Kill this man and you will be considered for our initiation."

As Mr. Melendez rages at Roderick's words this time, Hob squeezes Dream's shoulder. 'Continue?'

Dream hesitates, then squeezes Hob's ankle once. 'Yes.'

Hob smiles grimly, but gamely stands up. "Sure," he says. "I don't know what initiation you're all talking about, but I'm always down to fight someone to the death." To Mr. Melendez, whose first name Hob just learned a minute ago, he says, "Sorry, man, but you heard the boss."

--

Hob makes quick work of it, and was nauseated to see that, upon turning away from the bloody pulp that had been Mr. Melendez, he is greeted with the sight of everyone at the table in various states of undress, all of them in compromising positions with their pets.

Thankfully, Dream is left to sit and wait for him. If anyone had tried to touch him, Hob knows he'd start shooting every sick bastard in the room regardless of Dream's lack of command.

"Excellent job, Mr. Gadlen," Roderick says from his seat, which has been pushed back to allow Agent Cripps to service him. Hob's trigger finger twitches, but he does not look away. "And what artistry. We've never seen a man so beautifully murdered."

"Never," Mr. Wallace agrees. His pet, an androgynous smoke being, is facing Hob enough that he can see their dark misty tears falling down their face.

"Now he has to go through the initiation, Father," Randall begs. His own pet is bent over, head low on the ground but fists clenched.

"Please, Roderick," Mrs. Chu says. "He will make a good replacement for Federico." Hob cannot see her pet, which he had noticed earlier was some type of dragonoid being, but that's probably for the better.

Mr. Melendez's pet, meanwhile, is currently cowering in the corner of the room. They look to be an anemone-like creature, and had curled in on themselves every time Hob landed a hit on their now deceased owner, implying that Mr. Melendez had been physically hurting them when he was still alive.

Hob bites the insides of his cheek to keep from screaming.

Soon, he tells himself. Soon, I'll rid the world of their slavers.

"Everyone in agreement?" Roderick asks the room at large.

A chorus of 'aye's were heard, and Roderick inclines his head like a benevolent god. "Then we shall commence the initiation."

"What about the game?" Hob asks as he sits back on his chair. What? He's really looking forward to stealing everyone's money (with Dream's help), and using it to fund the therapy bills of every half-other currently in Fawney Rig.

"We can continue after," Roderick assures him. "Now. The initiation."

Hob waits. He could feel Dream put his hands back on him again, ready to signal him. He places his own hand on Dream's shoulder.

"It's nothing nefarious," Roderick says, which just makes Hob certain that it absolutely is. "You need only to fornicate with your pet in front of us, orgasm, and you will be considered as one of us."

Hob stops breathing.

He's pretty sure Dream has stopped breathing as well.

But everyone was looking at him, and not at Dream at the moment, and he has to focus. "What's the catch?" he asks, feeling his heart beating against his throat. He cannot. He will not take Dream against his will.

"No catch," Mrs. Chu tells him. "But we do want a show."

"It's been a while since we've seen a good show," Mr. Wallace agrees. "Not since Randall, I believe?"

Randall laughs. "Yeah. Alex was so pathetic I had to take his pet from him." He shakes his pet's shoulder roughly. "Isn't that right, Paul?"

His pet, Paul, starts crying, and on the ground below him where his tears fell, flowers start to bloom.

Jesus Christ. Hob really is looking forward to killing every single one of them.

"Well, Mr. Gadlen?" Roderick says. "Will you give us a show?"

Hob is sure they'll kill him if he says no. He doesn't need Dream squeezing his ankle once for 'yes' to know that. But still.

'Continue?' he asks Dream.

A harder single squeeze, and he can almost hear the accompanying thought that goes with it. 'Yes, you bloody idiot!'

"Yeah, alright," Hob says. He sure fucking hope Dream knows what he's doing. "Up you get, baby."

--

Unbeknownst to Hob, Dream had secretly been communicating with Agent Cripps throughout the night. Ethel's long forked tail had been tapping Morse Code against Dream's foot under the table the entire time, and most of the information she gave him he had relayed to Hob.

Dream glances at Ethel now, and sees the fiery determination in her eyes. As Hob lifts him up on the table, Ethel gives him the tiniest of nods, and Dream immediately pinches Hob's arm hard.

The signal to wreak havoc.

A split second later, Dream has dived under the table as both Ethel and Hob draw their guns and kill the most important members of the Burgess family.

It barely lasted a minute.

--

"Thank you," Ethel says, as the three of them stand in front of the towering inferno that used to be Fawney Rig.

As soon as the last body hit the ground, Ethel had told the androgynous smoke being to teleport Hob into the remaining advisors' rooms, and Hob had done his duty and helped free those two advisors' pets as well.

And when every innocent party is safely outside, Mrs. Chu's half-dragon pet had set the mansion ablaze.

"Don't mention it," Hob tells her. Dream was a little off to the side, making phone calls to rescue personnel, while a group of a dozen or more half-other beings watch as Fawney Rig burns. Most of them were crying and holding on to each other. Hob was glad he managed to get a bunch of blankets so they could wrap themselves in it.

"No, seriously, thank you," Ethel insists. "I felt like I was going insane back there, and I hated every second that I exposed the two of you to their vile world."

"You can say that again," Hob mutters. "Christ. So Randall killed his own brother?"

Ethel looks around and steps closer to Hob. "No," she says in a low voice. "He made Paul do it. He used to be Alex's companion, but...well... It's one thing to dote on a pet and another to love them."

From within the group of half-others, Hob could see Paul with tear streaks on his face and flowers at his feet, holding onto Mrs. Chu's half-dragonoid who, Hob can see now, has a large acid burn on one side of his face.

Now, Hob never goes back to saying old curse words, but he feels like this is an appropriate time for one. "God's fucking wounds."

At this point, Dream joins them. For some reason, he steps closer to Hob than he normally would. When Hob steps back, Dream steps even closer, and gives Hob the stink-eye while doing it.

Hob doesn't know what the fuck his problem is, but he's too tired to think right now. Let Dream be weird. All he wants is to get back to headquarters and maybe eat some fries and drink a chocolate milkshake.

"Thank you for the rescue, Mr. Endless," Ethel tells Dream. For some reason, she has stepped back from Hob.

Great. Two half-others being weird.

"You are welcome," Dream says. Then, in a more gentle voice, "Will you be keeping the baby?"

"Oh, yes," Ethel says, determined. "I really want to have a baby, but I was told decades ago by The Agency doctors that I would have a hard time getting pregnant. Now that it happened, though..." She laughs, and it only sounds a little bit broken. "My child will know exactly what their father was, but I will teach them to be better. I might have hated everything I witnessed while being the elder Burgess's pet, but I'm proud of myself for managing to survive."

"Are you kidding?" Hob says incredulously. "Agent Cripps, you're a fucking badass. I was in there for six hours tops and I want to drink a gallon of brain bleach. And you lasted for years? Comic book superheroes have nothing on you. You're an actual goddess. I present thee pregnant people food at the foot of your temple."

"Stop flirting with a pregnant woman," Dream snipes beside him as Ethel laughs. It sounded lighter than her previous laugh, though, which had been Hob's goal all along.

"He wouldn't," Ethel tells Dream, her eyes twinkling. "Not when he has you."

"We're not together," Hob says, at the same time Dream says, "He does not have me."

Ethel just smiles at them. "Alright," she says, just as they spot The Agency's helicopters in the distance. "If you say so."

--

As soon as they drop Ethel and the rest of the half-others who had been kept as pets at Fawney Rig in Medical, Hob and Dream, without a single word, walk together towards Death's office.

Her half-phantasm secretary told them she was in, but that she is currently taking a conference call and would therefore be unavailable for at least another half hour. The secretary then told them that she was going to grab a quick midnight lunch from the cafeteria, and if they want, they could wait.

They nodded tiredly at her as she phased through a wall, and immediately slump on the long couch outside Death's office.

Or, to be more accurate, Dream goes to get a couple of hot bottled tea drinks from a nearby vending machine, bonks Hob's head with one of the bottles to make him take it, and drops gracefully beside him.

Hob, on the other hand, just straight up sits down, exhausted, and slouches like a drunk starfish, his head resting on the wall behind the couch.

As soon as he felt the warm bottle hit him gently on the forehead, he automatically grabs it, then turns his head a little to look at Dream sitting beside him.

He looks tired as well. It had been a draining, two-week long mission, and Hob doesn't think he looks any better himself.

"Do you need aftercare or something?" he asks, because they still may not like each other, but Hob has always been a caring person. And if Dream doesn't like it, then he can suck his dick. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

"Why, are you offering?" Dream asks. It's a testament to how tired he was that his words don't hold the usual sting in them.

Hob grins, unable to stop the fond feelings blooming in his gut and equally unable to stop the fondness from showing on his face. Fawney Rig must have truly driven him nuts. Did he really just think that Dream looks so cute when he's being bitchy?

"Maybe," he says, and Dream catches him with a smile on his face. Dammit. "Why, you wanna cuddle?"

Jesus, Gadling. Get a grip and stop running your mouth.

Dream wheezes. He sounds like a dying goat. "Perhaps," he says. His eyes are twinkling. Hob knows he shouldn't find his laugh endearing, but he does. He probably needs to go to Medical to get his head checked out. Dream gestures to Hob's lap. "May I?"

Hob knows, intellectually, that this is a very dangerous game of chicken they're playing. If they don't stop, Hob is gonna wake up one day with Dream Endless on his bed, lovely in his half-asleep state, Hob with two cups of coffee in his hands (and maybe even an entire breakfast tray heaped with food), and both of them will be wearing wedding rings.

"Sure, go ahead," Hob says, trying to look inviting and possibly only succeeding in looking like a beached jellyfish. "That is, if you're capable of not falling off on your ass."

"You will find," Dream says, as he stands up more elegantly than Hob will ever do in his life, "that I am capable of a great many things." He then plops down unceremoniously on Hob's lap and immediately cuddles up to him.

Despite his words, Hob's arms automatically hold Dream in place to prevent him from falling off. He knows he still smells like blood and gunpowder from earlier, but Dream doesn't seem to mind. "Don't fall asleep on me," he warns Dream.

"Zzzzz," Dream says, like a goddamn bee.

Hob barks out a laugh at that. He's so ridiculous, honestly. Why doesn't he know that? It has literally been centuries since they started working together. He feels like he should know that.

"I hate you," Hob tells him, but his tone is enamored and, strangely enough, having Dream on his lap like this is serving to be a great aftercare for him as well.

"You love me," Dream mumbles, already sounding half-asleep. His knees must be hurting from kneeling most of the night. Hob starts rubbing them gently, but scoffs at Dream's words.

His other hand cards gently through Dream's hair, the motion lulling them both to a deeper, more relaxed state. They're going to have to wake up before Death's secretary comes back, and then debrief with Death. But having Dream in his lap, warm and pliant, feels so good that Hob finds himself closing his eyes as well. "You wish."

--

'I do,' Dream thinks, before he falls asleep completely, feeling safer than he's ever felt in eons.

--

Death finds the two of them curled up together on the couch thirty minutes later, and discreetly takes a picture of the two before gently waking them up.

It's regrettable that they have to debrief when they are obviously exhausted, but the earlier it's done, the clearer their memory is.

Dream and Hob peaceably goes into her office and gives their report, but she does not fail to notice how Hob has yet to let go of Dream's hand upon waking. And more than that, Dream is holding Hob's hand with both of his in his own lap. Both of them seem unaware of this new development between them.

Death hides her smile behind her teacup as she sips some calming tea and allows them to continue giving their report.

--

Bonus:

"Agent Gadling! Do not-- oh, for goodness's sake. If you are incapacitated and captured, I will not hesitate to bench you for a century."

"A century, huh?" Hob's unfairly seductive voice says through the comms. Dream hates it. He always have. And now that Hob knows why he does, he's exploiting Dream's weakness. "You gonna tie me up in bed, too?"

A couple of other tech officers giggle at that. Dream sends a scathing glare towards them, and they quickly scurry away.

"I will tie you next to an anthill."

"Yikes," Hob says cheerfully and ducks behind a wall. "Still not sorry, though. I know you've been wanting to have a petrified pseudodragon egg, so I got you two."

Dream does not swoon. Because that would be undignified.

"You risked capture to get me a couple of petrified pseudodragon eggs," he says in his sternest voice. Not the sexy stern voice that Hob likes, but the I'm-gonna-beat-your-ass-and-send-your-soul-straight-to-Hell voice. He shakes his head. His boyfriend is just so fucking stupid sometimes. "You are aware I cannot simply sit on them to get them to hatch?"

A hail of gunfire interrupts Hob's laughter. Dream watches on the screen, heart in his throat, how Hob evades his pursuers, runs down a garbage-strewn alley, and hitches a ride on a passing delivery truck.

He lets out a breath he doesn't know he's been holding. "I hate you," Dream tells him, so he knows. He must always be reminded.

Hob, through the hidden camera pinned on his lapel, shows Dream the two jet black pseudodragon eggs he got from the villain of the week's evil lair. One of them is pure black, and the other has a line of white running down the middle of its shell. "You love me."