#Knowing an action I did had the desired consequence makes me feel like there is still a 'point' to actively choosing and doing and changing

[ctheathy]

The Claim of an Operational Sin

Claude Frollo x Reader

Suggestive Oneshot

Is this damn priest dilf energy or nah

Author's note: Have you ever disliked a villain so much you wanted to hate breed them and make them your bitch? Read this, cuz you can :)

You're one of the few ladies the tyrannical man has taken interest in. Something he'd refer to as being bewitched by those who are innocent. Intrigue driven by his own lustful desires similar to his captivation by the beautiful dancer, Esmeralda. But unlike her, you were certainly not as lucky preventing your imprisonment and attempting to escape the minister's grasp.

Frollo/Reader [Romantic Tendencies(???)]

[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]

Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :

!Female Reader! • Seductive/“Succubus” reader • Imprisoned reader • We're basically gonna be assaulting him WOOHOO • Threats • Reader is unfearful of death • Arousal • Teasing, but it's bordering on degradation • Desperation • Drooling/Salivating • Kissing • ...Leaking...iykyk • He's an old man who's never satisfied his primal desires, what did you expect • This entire fic and concept in general is TW worthy tbh-

I REGRET NOTHING ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

“...You are a bloody!” Frollo spoke sharply. Taking a deep breath as he looked at you with a bitter gaze. His eyes were cold now, a sour expression on his face. His eyebrows were raised, as if he was trying to control his anger. He was currently in front of you in one of the many dungeon cells underneath the Notre Dame. “... How long do you think you're going to be alive? If you keep acting like this.” He said, sounding almost like he was threatening you.

And despite his subtle warnings, you kept your time in the cell undisturbed, paying no mind to his little hissy fit. To the point it looked like you were straight up ignoring him, which only fueled his already angered state. Demanding you to not even think of not listening to him whenever he spoke. But in all honesty, his constant irritation was just getting you more entertained by the man. It was like watching a child throw a tantrum. Well. You were more than ready to show him that he picked the wrong lady. That your abduction was an easily regrettable decision for him. He was stuck here with you, not the other way around.

Grinning with anticipation, you leaned against the wall with a careless posture. You couldn't care less about what series of threats he had to offer. “Mhmm? Won't that something you should be worrying about as well? Lusting after women and harassing them for centuries can cause for quite the revolution, if I may” you were sneering with sarcasm. “The most recent victim has certainly been influential. Miss Esmeralda, was it? It’s difficult to control yourself, isn’t it~?” you mocked

“... Silence yourself!” He yelled in a half-angry, half-desperately demanding tone, something that noticeably made you laugh out loud. Frollo felt a hit of shame and embarrassment by the fact that you've taken note of him lusting after her. It was a sin ...he wasn't supposed to feel this way. And it was that gypsy who has bewitched him! Tainting his purity with her alluring words and movements. At least, in the minister's head it was, blaming a fairly innocent soul for his own shameful and unholy impulses.

“Many peasants have faced the consequences of the witches’ actions through either custody or death. So choose your words carefully.” trying to warn you and keep you in line, but your reaction would be ...unexpected. “So what? Everybody will die one day.” You glanced back up to the priest and cocked your head to the side. “Perhaps nature shall take its course in the next future for me too. Who knows? Which would be beyond fine with me” you murmured with yet another chuckle, raising an eyebrow. “But atleast now you still have somebody to turn to, wouldn't you say?” He noticed you sending him a wink of mockery, but was too baffled by your sudden statement.

The eyes of the minister widened, as he heard you say that. “You... You don't value your people's freedom. You... You don't care about your own existence." He gritted his teeth. You could practically see his temper exploding. He never understood how somebody could be so unflappable towards the idea of their own very demise. He felt like he had no control over you, which infuriated him greatly. Though you remained in a calm posture, a look of disinterest in your eyes as he felt the need to mention it. “Look," you began with a bit of attitude, unconcerned about how far you might be pushing him over the edge with your next few words.

“Don't treat your lustful motives as superior over what I lack. Eventually, natural selection shall take its course for all of us anyway. And I'll greet it with open arms as soon as the time comes” you half assed with a small smirk. But Frollo? He did not like that one bit, seething with rage as he snapped

“You don't care if nature takes its course, huh!? Well, I will be the one to take its course, if you will not! I am going to give it my best to make you suffer. I shall tear you down with my own hands.”

You took in his words, as your grin slowly started to expand a little the more he went into detail about his description of how exactly he was gonna take your life. You softly chuckled at his threat, hanging your head down as your hair was resting over your eyes, covering them up as you continued to giggle with pure amusement. “Awh..~” you glanced up at the man once again, some of your teeth exposed with your grin as your eyes were smugly half lid. You readjusted your hand as you gently, yet firmly grabbed him by the jawline, placing your thumb right under his chin as you pressed his skin. “It is truly adorable how undeniably obsessed you are with me. Do you clop to the idea of hurting me too?”

You curled up your index finger as it caressed Frollo on his cheek, your little smirk becoming smaller, but still being very visible nonetheless. “I'm quite flattered, my sweet~” your prying eyes were full of glee as you fluttered your lashes, attracting the man even further if that was even possible. You took a step even closer towards him, your chest almost pressed onto him as you got further into his personal space, so inviting...

And oh dear God. Everything you just said... Your smirk, your stance. It didn't take a genius to figure out that you were attempting to seduce him. You were trying to provoke him. And it was working. “H-hngh..!?” Frollo's breathing grew shallow. Every muscle in his body was starting to tighten in exasperation. He was shaking in anger. That's right. He was angry- so unbelievably, extraordinarily angry. But, he was also... Tempted.

And though his body was noticeably still somewhat stiff, you did not miss him beginning to melt into your touch, despite the obvious death stare in his eyes. He was so easily affected and getting worked up by your shenanigans, it was almost cute. Almost. You smirked to yourself as your soft fingers continued to tease his facial features. You were completely leaning into him at this point, both breasts squished onto him as you kept the eye contact with assertion.

Your free hand even wandered over towards the back of his neck, your fingers gently digging into his spine as you rubbed them up and down, but slowly beginning to add more pressure. “You seem to be making yourself comfortable with me quite swiftly, minister...” you stood on your toes to add on height and match his level, “Is that something you enjoy? Making quick development instead of taking things slowly~?” Frollo's heart literally started beating faster. The way you were saying these things. It was so very seductive. And your finger that was caressing him? You... A-Ah...

“H-How dare you!” His tone sounded so frustrated, like he was trying to hide something. Something he wouldn't want you to find out. You could practically see the rage in his eyes, but the way you spoke? And the way you got so close to him, you could practically feel his anger, his resentment, slowly melt away. His head started to turn red, as he gritted his teeth. He really couldn't take it, you had completely caught him in your trap. And you did that so... effortlessly.

It made him feel weak and submissive, a foreign feeling to the priest. You were completely dominating him. Not just physically, but emotionally as well. You made him vulnerable. You got into his... frozen and rock cold heart. You were in control now, and he was just so very powerless to your charms. His entire body was beginning to tremble. His breathing, it was slowly getting quicker and more shallow. It almost felt- the way you touched him, with such delicate care. The way you were teasing him like this. His entire body was starting to feel so hot. He felt the blood surging, pumping him up, preparing him for something he didn't dare to acknowledge.

And being less vigilant, he admitted to his thoughts much more easily. “It... astonishes me... when you... make me lose control” He said, the tone in his voice being a mix of anger and lust. Of desire. Of passion. Words that you hadn't really expected. You'd never guessed for a response like this. It was so sensual. He was clearly losing control now. The way he had just admitted to you that he was enjoying this? It felt as if he was a man on a chain. And you were the one holding it.

This was not supposed to be happening. Not like this. Frollo was... He was tempted. He was extremely tempted. He did not want to be tempted! He did not want to be lured by your feminine allure and your seducing gestures! Why. Why were you seducing him!? He was supposed to kill you, not fall for your antics dammit! He was literally getting flustered now, much to his embarrassment. And the way you pressed your body against his, as if trying to get as close as physically possible? It was really, REALLY making him nervous.

“Don't... you even DARE ...think that I am enjoying this! I... I am simply attempting to ...to” he began to trail off, unable to even think straight. And the more he was trying to desperately deny your claims, the more amused you became with the show. Without warning, you took another step forward and pressed your hips against him... pinning him with one of your thighs. Both of your bodies rubbing on one another as you adjusted your position again. Wanting to see just how hollow his words actually were.

And now he was definitely flustered. And you could tell. His breathing hastened, and he was literally going bright red. Frollo was trembling. And the fact that you could sense just how aroused he was, just made it worse. Because... Your intimate areas were rubbing against his, and there was not a single inch of space between the two of you. “S-Stop... this, you... Y-You witch..!”

His eyes widened as soon as you stepped into him further. You were just getting as intimate as could be. Your thighs and hips were rubbing against him. And it was making him... He was literally drooling now. Frollo was speechless. And he literally was making a mess out of himself. Like... He looked like a fool! One of the most dangerous people in the country, was... drooling... His mouth was open slightly, looking like he was going to say something. But instead, he closed his mouth shut again, and looked almost ashamed. As if he had been caught doing something humiliating.

Your eyes just lit up at the sight while you showed off your teeth with a shit-eating grin, confirming how amused you were by the situation. You tried making yourself even taller than before, as if trying to take away his confidence height-wise as well. You were having this heart-to-heart exchange with him face to face. Your face now literal millimetres away from his, intimidating.

But then you did something that caught him off guard, as you licked off the saliva that was dribbling down his mouth. Your tongue firstly stroking his spit-covered chin before seductively brushing it up to the crook of his mouth where the running drool started. But your tongue quickly wandered to his upper lip, sending a shock right through his veins. Your warm and sweet tongue began teasingly brushing left and right over the entrance of his lips, attempting to pry them open for a good three seconds before pulling back. You glanced at him right in the eye again, a cheeky glint in your eyes. “Aww, you poor man~ He almost spilled..~ Are you actually gonna soil yourself in front of me?” you purred with a tease.

As soon as you started licking the drool off of his lips, He got an electrical shock. A wave of pure nervousness and tingles running down his veins. The blush on his cheeks was getting redder, and you could hear his heartbeat. The saliva that was dropped, got licked up by you. You were staring at him so seductively. A warm, sweet feeling, of just pure ecstasy was flowing through his body.

And the way you were so close to him. You really were an actual princess. Or the queen of sin, rather. He looked like he was about to just collapse. Frollo... His wide eyes were now looking at your lips when you pulled back, and you could see the desire in them. And when you licked the saliva from his lips... He almost- almost let out a moan. He was literally about to melt away.

The priest's entire face flushed a deep, deep red. His blush was... it was so obvious to you, along with the fact that he was salivating at this. But the fact that you licked it off...? You could practically see his entire world begin to break down, right after that. You didn't just break his walls down. You obliterated them. He didn't know what to say. You were just... Ah, God. so, so cruel.

The way you did just that. The way you licked it. It was... Oh, heavens. You would be an absolute demon in bed. He blinked, shaking his head and basically still drooling all over himself. Damn it. What in the world.

“You... You b-bitc-... Yo-... wh-” He couldn't get a word out. He was too stunned. All of the blood in his body seemed to be rushing down to his cheeks at once. And he could feel a warm liquid start to soak into his undergarments. Yes. That thing, the thing that he desperately didn't want to get hard. He clenched his jaws shut, as he started to sweat. He didn't know how to react or respond. You were playing with him at this point. You could practically see the steam rising off of his head. And he could feel the liquid seeping into his cloth.

This whole situation was just mortifying to Frollo, both for his reputation and pride. He tried to take a step back, but he was getting too caught up in his own... reaction, to realize he had his back pressed against the wall in here. He could feel his breathing getting heavier. And just his reaction of shock was more than enough to keep you going, as your hand clung to the back of his neck, your fingertips digging into his flesh again. “I can’t help but wonder what other places are getting hot and moist for me” you purred with a mischievous chuckle, leaning in close to his face once again.

“I recommend you stay in line” you murmured with a sense of warning as you took his bottom lip between your teeth, the tip of your canine pressing into it. Your hot and damp tongue came in contact with it as you pressed it against his parted lips, teasingly tracing it against the entrance of his lips but never actually going inside his mouth... Smearing your saliva over the base of his lips, while you seductively sucked his bottom lip, just watching how long he could keep it up before losing his sense of self control

His body was quaking. His frame was like a leaf in the wind. He was being absolutely manhandled. The way you nibbled his lip, you were making his legs go weak. There were no words. There were just... sounds. Sounds coming from his throat, as the heat and moisture inside him really began to build up. The way you continued to use your tongue. The way you continued to play with his lip like a cat with a ball of yarn. It felt like this was never going to end. And he... his moans. You could hear his voice. Those soft moans, that were only for you to hear. He was losing focus, and he did not care. His body getting wet. And it was all your fault. You were doing this to him. You were teasing him, playing with him like a puppeteer.

His lips were now opening up for you. His mouth inviting. Something which made your eyes darken with glee as you got the ultimate invitation from him. Not hesitating for any second thoughts. Your tongue slowly wandered in and began brushing against his inner lip, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of having your tongue deep into the back of his mouth. You pressed it in further, going slightly deeper as you rubbed your tongue against his gum tissue. Before reaching the inferior labial frenulum, as you teasingly slid your tongue over it. And that... that was an especially loud moan, coming from a person like Frollo, who's usually calculated and reserved. Reserved on that level, as it was clear he was enjoying this right now.

He was being completely seduced and he didn't care. His vocal groans were beginning to fill the room. The way your tongue was exploring his mouth... It was sending shivers down his spine. His eyes widening as he felt himself start to become damp. Your hand, wrapped around the back of his neck with your fingers pressing into his flesh. He liked how you were being so rough and so dominating at the moment. But your comment, about his other... moistened areas. He felt a hot liquid rushing through his body as he thought about it, as if he was being cooked alive.

He was just completely, utterly, and miserably lost in you. His eyes were staring at yours, with that warm glaze of lustful desire. And he was letting his inner demons play with his soul. They weren't being suppressed anymore. They were getting out, completely free. He was struggling to keep himself from just giving into you. He was almost tempted to just... get on the bed, and invite you on top of him. His lips were now completely split apart. His mouth was inviting you to go in deeper. To do whatever you pleased. The tip of his tongue was inviting you. And you could practically taste his wet tongue. His breath was starting to falter. The way you rubbed against his gums, the movement was so perfect and experienced. Frollo's entire body felt hot and wet. And it was making him want more. So much more.....

You could definitely tell he was getting desperate. His tongue eagerly and impatiently begging for it to intertwine with yours. He wanted your tongue at the back of his throat... And feeling eager, he desperately began to lick at you, desperate to taste you. And wanting to feed into that desperation, you began moving your tongue up and down, making the tip of his tongue rub over yours. Right before your tongue began wandering, slipping it flat on top of his. You slowly began pressing your tongue to the back of his throat, using his tongue as a guide as you slid it down to his tonsils, rubbing them. Sometimes pulling back for just a few seconds before teasingly sliding it down again, keeping him needy for more.

He was practically begging for it by now. His mouth was literally begging for your tongue to get deeper. But you were just teasing him so hard, and that's what was making this so hot. The way your tongue was moving, it was like a damn tongue dance. And you were playing the damn instrument that was his mouth perfectly. Teasing his tongue, nibbing at it and just being absolutely filthy with him. His mouth was just yours now.

You were literally eating him, was the only thing Frollo could think. He couldn't help but groan out as soon as your tongue went deeper inside his mouth, sliding alongside his own tongue. Your warm, wet tongue was rubbing against the sensitive skin in there, and you were teasing his mouth. You were making him melt. You were... making him weak. His neck and back started to arch involuntarily. The way you slid it down his throat as it touched his tonsils... The priest's body was starting to jerk. His eyes went blank, as he let out moans and gasps. It felt like you were controlling his mind and body, and that only made him feel even more desperate and in need of you.

Frollo was in a trance, practically. You were just so tempting. So delicious. His voice was turning into pure moans as he opened his mouth, letting out the sound of a beg. It was as if he was trying to say he wanted it. That this was what he wanted. His jaw was opened, his hands were hanging limp besides his body, behaving so submissively. The minister, who had been feared by everybody around him, was just completely done for.

You pulled back for a bit, as he moaned out in relief. A string of saliva now connecting your tongue with his mouth. “Don't go rabid on me now. You've been wanting this for a long, long time, hmm?” you teased him as one of your hands travelled towards his chin, before you started pressing your thumb into his mouth. You pressed your finger on his tongue, sliding it further to the back of his throat, threatening to make him gag if he disobeyed and forcing his jaw open even further. “Be a big boy and open up wide for me..~” you purred with a sadistic giggle, tempting him by sticking out your tongue.

There was no way out of this. His expression now completely rearranged from frustrated, to a look which was flaring with excitement. He was literally sweating. In one move, you had basically turned him from an egotistical man, into your own personal toy at your disposal. You owned him. Even when he got some of his control back when you moved your mouth away from him, he didn't wanna stop what you were doing. He was just hopelessly addicted to you, His brain was you. Nothing BUT you.

“You're playing under my rules now, minister.”

And he was just another piece of your collection to satisfy your needs.

[eraenaa]

Still Casual?

Part two of Casual

Rafe Cameron x Reader Tag List

Synopsis: You promised yourself that you’re never going to settle for casual ever again— promised yourself you would never be another casualty of Rafe Cameron.

Warnings: ¿Groveling?, Mentions of Substance Use, P in V Sex, Oral Sex (F & M receiving {69}), Very Slight use of Force, Not Proofread 

Word Count: 4,681

It was forthcoming; the warning signs were clear and loud, and red flags were waving, but you ignored them and proceeded without caution. Now, you must reap the consequence of living for the hope of it all. You returned home quickly after seeing such a scene at Rafe’s party. It was pathetic, but you kept looking at your phone in hopes that he would leave a message or even call you, wondering why you didn’t come. But why would he? He was preoccupied and entertained by a new ever-lovely jewel— what need would he have of you? You couldn’t even let yourself cry— you couldn’t even mourn because what is there to mourn? You could not grieve something that was casual. It would be foolish of you to do so. 

Now, you lay in your room trying to convince yourself that it was not as deep as you had believed it to be. That it should not affect you this greatly. Convincing yourself to be numb as your heart beats betrayal. You have betrayed yourself because you desired more— regretted your actions because you had settled for casual. 

You hesitated to call your friends and tell them what had happened, fearing they say, “I told you so” and “I warned you,” but they were gracious enough to keep those thoughts to themselves, suggesting you should visit them in the city and keep your mind off Rafe, which was difficult to do whilst on the island. It was a spontaneous decision, but with one message to your parents telling them that you’ll be going to New York and that you’ll need to borrow their jet and them replying with a thumbs up, you were quick to go wheels up and fly away from the outer banks.

“So, is it over now? Did you break it off with him?” Your friends asked as you gathered for brunch in the city. You frowned at their question, “What’s there to break off? We weren’t anything,” You mumbled. “Exactly, you weren’t anything! Why, then, are you so wounded?” Your friend, who was notorious for being frank and a tad insensitive, asked. You stayed quiet, not wanting to word out that you had optimism that your dalliance with Rafe would turn into something more. “You know what you should do?” Your friend asked, and you waited for them to finish their thought. “Give him a taste of his own medicine— the last time I was there, weren’t there two guys fighting for your attention? Use them and flaunt to Rafe this casualness he’s insisting on,” They suggested, and you scrunched up your nose in disagreement. 

“I’m not gonna do that! I… I’m not gonna use some innocent guy as a tool in the hopes of making Rafe jealous! That’s just mean and petty; besides, it might not even work.” You reasoned. “I just don’t want casual anymore. I want an actual relationship.” You sighed and locked eyes with your two closest friends. “You know what you have to do, don’t you?’ They asked, and you dejectedly nodded your head. “It’s just… if I end our arrangement, it means it’ll be the end of all that great sex,” you solemnly said, making your friends laugh at your admittance. “Oh, come on, it can’t be that great,” your friend scoffed in doubt, but you shook your head. “It is…I— the other night, he made me come seven times…seven! I could barely walk the next day,” you whispered, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as you recalled that memory. 

“Really? Seven times?” Your friend asked, intrigued, and you nodded your head, seeing the slight bewilderment in their eyes. “No! That’s beside the point! You deserve someone better— like those guys in those movies and books you love! Not this… frat bro who uses women as his cock warmer!” You sighed and nodded your head in agreement. “I knew you moving to North Carolina was a mistake,” Your friend sighed, “You’re too good for that place— it’s practically Florida!” Your friends said it with disgust, and you laughed at their snobbiness. You spent a week in the city, your friends trying hard to preoccupy your mind and show that you deserved better than Rafe. That you should never settle again— that tens or even hundreds of guys would treat you better than he would. Taking you to bars and parties from Brooklyn to the Upper East Side just to find a guy that would take your mind off of Rafe, none did the job. 

You went back to the Outer Banks feeling a bit better, your friends finally convincing you to remove any casual attachments because, knowing you, you would stay for more and be subjected to being one of Rafe’s playthings as long as he’d hold you in his arms. You were about to message him, asking him to meet you by the beach to halt your affairs with him and end your casual relationship. But before you could even type out the message, the doorbell rang, and you heard the hushed voice of the housemaid talking with Rafe. You furrowed your brows but stayed in your spot, not wanting to check if it was actually Rafe because if he saw you now, you would have no choice but to halt and cut ties. 

“Where were you? I’ve been calling you since last week, and you’ve been ignoring my calls and messages.” Your back was against him as he found you in the dining room. Your knees felt weak as you heard the deep baritone of his voice and the distinct smell of his cologne. You gathered the courage to face him, “I was in New York,” You reasoned and tried hard not to show hesitancy on your face. “Is that why you missed my party? I was waiting for you, and I even got that expensive ass wine you like because you don’t drink beer,” Rafe asked, walking towards you; his voice held confusion and, dare you say, sadness or hurt because you ceased contact with him for almost two weeks. 

You backed away towards the table and shook your head, willing yourself to stay strong and not grow soft by his charms or be attracted by his look; it was impossibly hard to do so. “No… I… went to your party,” You said, watching as Rafe’s brows shit in surprise, him inching towards you. “And, uhm… whilst I was there, I realized something.” You added and backed yourself toward the dining room table, nowhere to go as Rafe stood inches from you. “What?” He asked, trying to capture your gaze, but you were staring at the floor. You took a deep breath before the words left your lips, uncertain and fearing how he would react. Surely, he won’t react badly, right? You were just casual; he won’t be throwing a fit because you decided to end your dalliance. It won’t affect him; it won’t anger or sadden him. And the thought of him being unaffected wounded you.  

“I…I realized I don’t want this. I don’t want casual.” You explained. There was a beat of silence, and you finally lifted your gaze to see the confusion in Rafe’s blue eyes. “What… I don’t understand. I— you wanted this,” He said, and you watched the concussion in his eyes hide slight anger. “I thought I did. I thought I could do casual, but Rafe…” You sighed and stepped aside to put distance between the two of you. “Rafe, I’m a relationship type of girl; I like— I need commitment.” You explained. Rafe scoffed and shook his head, following you in the direction where you had walked off. “What is this? Some type of ultimatum? Now what? You’re trapping me in a relationship?” He spat, and you frowned at his words. 

“No, I’m doing the opposite! Rafe, I want commitment; I want an actual relationship, and I am completely aware that that is the last thing you want, which is why I don’t think we should see each other anymore,” You reasoned, growing frightened as the rage in his eyes was peeking through. “So what? You’re breaking up with me?” He gritted out, walking towards you, but you shook your head and walked further from him. “No, to break up with you meant we were in a relationship. You made it perfectly clear to me and to everyone that we weren’t,” The anger went quiet on his face, confusion covering it once more. “Nothing but a pastime— purely physical,” You sighed, reciting the words he thought you did not hear him say. You hear his heavy sigh, and an excuse was ready to be uttered from his lips. “I don’t wanna be your hobby anymore,” 

You walked off and heard him follow you towards the front door. “Baby, no— I,” You shook your head and felt proud of yourself as his little endearment did not waver your judgment. Continuing to open the door and motioned for him to leave. “I’ll see you around, Rafe,” You tried to smile and gently pushed him out of your home, out of your life.

Two days passed since your last encounter with Rafe, and you finally decided to leave the solace of your home and venture to… anywhere. You knew you could not go about the country club for a round of tennis, knowing Rafe often frequents there for a round of golf. And you could not as well accept the invitation of Weezy and Sarah to hang out in their home. So you headed to the beach, to a cafe that had an incomparable view of the ocean. 

You were sitting by the window, your gaze shifting between the book you had brought and the crash of waves. Your quiet and focus were disrupted by the sound of a chair scraping and a presence appearing beside you. “That’s a good book,” You turned to your right in confusion, only to be met with blue eyes and a charming smirk on a familiar face. “You haven’t read, let alone heard of this book, Rafe,” you sighed, scooting further from him to keep your distance. 

Rafe clenched his jaw as he felt you inch further from him. Gathering your things to leave. “How long are you gonna keep up with this, huh? Come on, you may not want casual, but you cannot lie and say you don’t want me as well,” Rafe followed you out as you hurriedly walked away from him. You sighed and shook your head, mumbling “Wanted,” as a correction for Rafe’s statement. “What?” He asked and took hold of your hand as you started to walk off once more. “Wanted. It’s in the past; I no longer want casual, and I no longer want you. Just leave this be, Rafe.” You tried to act civil, and respectful. Trying to maintain civility and not burn a bridge that, in all honesty, you would very much like to keep. 

You feel his hold on your hand tighten slightly and see the rage in his eye, trying hard to be suppressed. “You have tens of girls waiting to be your next casualty, Rafe. Let’s leave this be… it has run its course. I don’t want meaningless hookups, and it’s clear that that is all you could give me.” Rafe’s jaw clenched as the truth slipped from your lips. “Bye, Rafe,” You said once more and started to walk away from him. “What do I have to do for us to go back to the way it was?” He called after a while; you wanted to groan as he followed you once more. “Come on, baby. I’ll give you a ride home, and we can talk about it… please,” You were starting to grow frustrated as his hands placed themselves on your waist again; it was shameful that it quickly brought back the need in you. 

“No, I’ll walk. And Rafe…you can’t have to do anything for us to go back to the way that it was— I don’t want to go back to the way that it was. I have explained it to you thrice now. I don’t want casual!” You were practically screaming, and you hated that you lost composure. You wanted to go about this whole situation maturely, but Rafe was a test of your patience. “God, you’re so hot when you’re angry.” Was all he said, a teasing twinkle in his eyes and a smirk returned to his lips. You scoffed and rolled your eyes, turning away from him as you were now desperate to leave. But Rafe never relinquished his hold of you, only pulling you close and smashed your lips. You kept your jaw clenched as he eagerly tried to solicit a reaction from you— kissed you fervently as he was desperate that you would reciprocate his kiss. You hear him groan and let out a frustrated sigh as he parted for air. “Enough, Rafe. It’s done; we’re through with this.” You sternly said and wiped your lips of him.

A week has passed since Rafe kissed you. And you would admit, you were feeling withdrawals. You were missing him. Missing the way he held you close in sleep, with him burying his face in the crook of your neck or in your hair, and the way his arms would wrap around you so tightly yet so comfortingly. You missed how he would kiss your lips first thing in the morning and last thing in the night. You missed how he would bring pints you ice cream after taking Weezy to the ice cream parlor. You missed how he made you feel wanted— how he made you feel like you were the only one to bring him such blinding pleasure when you laid. You missed how you thought that you were made for him and how he was made for you. You missed Rafe. But not wholly enough to settle to be one of his girls once more. 

You were having a rare family dinner, and your parents finally came back from their trip and decided to stay home for at least a week and it went by quickly, with this being their last night and them flying off first thing tomorrow morning. You tried not to appear sullen— to actually enjoy their company, but it was difficult as Rafe was the constant thought in your head. You were seated in the dining room, your parents discussing their next trips and asked about your recent venture to New York, when the doorbell rang. You oddly felt your heart spike as you heard shuffling when your maid went to see who the visitor was. You licked your lips as you heard the far-off sound of Rafe calling for you, your maid entering the dining room and whispering that he came here for you. You excused yourself from your parents and hastily went to the front door, horrid to see the state Rafe was in. 

His eyes were bloodshot, and his form more rigid. There was a thing sheen of sweat on his forehead, and he smelt of booze, and your eyes did not miss the smidge of white powder on the side of his nose. He was fucking high. 

“Hi, baby… you look so pretty,” He slurred as he stumbled closer to you. You were mortified that he could be seen by your parents, especially in such a state. “Oh, you’re wearing one… one of those going out dresses,” he mumbled again, his hand going to your waist and feeling the fabric of your dress. “Are you on a fucking date? What? You fucking replaced me already, huh? Is that it?” He was no longer mumbling; his mellow state turned to rage, and you looked back down the hall, fearing your parents heard. “Rafe, shh… my parents are here; they cannot see you like this.” You tried to push him out, but he resisted, now more determined to step foot further into your house. “Like what? Are you ashamed of me? Is that why you ended it?” You stared up at him with him with a deep frown. You hear your parents call for you, and you feel your stomach twist in fear. 

You weighed your options; you could not let your parents see Rafe, but you could not push him out of your home and leave him in such a state. So you had no choice but to guide him towards your room once more. “Hm… I knew you couldn’t resist me. I missed you so much; I missed the way you would scr—“ You shushed him and made him sit on your bed, “I’ll be back— I still have dinner with my parents.” You said and hoped your mother and father would not grow suspicious of your absence. 

Your emotions were mixed as Rafe wrapped his strong arms around your waist as you stood before him. He nuzzled his face on your torso and hummed in satisfaction. “I missed you, baby… tell me you missed me too,” He mumbled against your frame. You tried to push him away, but he would only whine and hold you tighter. You had the faintest clue on how to handle him in a drunken and high state— he never was neither of those things whilst you two had your arrangements. “Rafe, please, my parents are getting suspicious. I’ll come back in a while.” You looked down at Rafe, who looked up to you with such vulnerability in his eyes that you had never seen. “I promise I’ll be back,” you sighed and kissed his cheek as a reassurance. Rafe finally relinquished his hold, and you ran back to the dining room and prayed your parents wouldn’t ask too many questions. 

Dinner somehow lasted for hours. Your parents were insistent on doing some bonding after many months away, playing board games, and even watching one of your favorite childhood movies. It was nice, you admit, to spend more time with your parents, but the thought of Rafe trying to sober up in your room and that he might be caught caused you to shrink in fear and panic. 

It was nearing midnight when you finally returned to your room, and you saw Rafe newly showered and waiting for you by the foot of your bed. “Do you want water?” You asked as you saw that he had sobered up. “No, I’m fine,” He said, but he could not meet your eyes. There was a moment of tense and awkward silence between the two of you. “You should… you should probably go,” You sighed and moved to the other side of your room to remove the earrings you adorned. 

Rafe did not utter a word, and you bit your lip as you turned to him. “Why?” He asked after a quiet moment. “Why did you end it?” He asked, and you felt exhaustion wash over you. “Rafe, I told you, I realized I don’t want casual, and that is all you are capable of. I’m not going to force myself and my wish for commitment upon you.” Rafe shook his head, “No. You were perfectly fine with our arrangement— what the fuck changed?” You licked your lips and thought twice if you should share with him your moment of realization. “I went to your party.” You stated and took your seat next to him. You saw from the side of your eye that Rafe had a frown on his face as he tried to take hold of your hand. “I went to your party and saw you making out with another girl… and there I realized that I can’t be casual. I can’t be the chill girl who settles for sharing someone they really like.” 

“You really like me?” Rafe asked, ignoring all your other statements. You couldn’t help but laugh as a boyish grin spread across his lips. “Liked, is the key word here,” You say with a small smile, but the grin on his lips faltered. 

“I don’t want casual.” Rafe suddenly announced and humorlessly laughed with a shake of your head. “You’re just saying that because you want us to fuck again,” There was a sting in your heart as you said the words. “No,” He denied, and you shook your head, standing up to put distance between the two of you. “Can you fucking stop walking away from me!” He gritted out and pulled you to sit beside him once more. “I never saw this as casual, okay?” You scoffed at his lie. “It’s true!” He defended, “Rafe, I heard you with your friends— you told me on three occasions what we are. I saw you making out with a girl! You saw me as nothing but casual!” 

“I don’t think you know what casual really is,” Rafe sighed and cupped your cheek; you tried to shift his hold, but you grew weak as you missed the way his large, calloused palm cupped your cheek. “If we were just casual, I wouldn’t have spent every moment of my free time with you. I wouldn’t be staying with you after we had sex and hold you ‘till we fall asleep. If we were casual, I wouldn’t attempt to cook you breakfast or go with you to those bookstores for hours just to hold the things you wanted to buy… I wouldn’t have told you about my issues with my dad, let alone let you meet my family! Baby, it was never casual.” You chewed on your lips as you felt your heart flutter, but your mind was battling with it. “You were kissing another girl— you bragged to your friends that I was nothing but a pastime.” 

“Those were mistakes. Topper was giving me a hard time— kept teasing me of how whipped I was with you and… I just wasn’t ready to admit it,” You bit your tongue as you felt the want to let a small smile slip your lips. “And at the party?” You instead asked, reminding yourself of the reason why you had the epiphany that you and Rafe could not work out. “It was a bigger mistake,” Rafe sighed, and you feel his thumb caressing your cheek, straying to touch your lips. “But it only made me realize more clearly that all I want to kiss and hold— the only one I want is you,” You leaned in closer to his touch. Ignoring the fact that your friends would be dismayed by your actions because you faltered by his words and his touch. “Do you believe me?” He asked as his face was inching closer to yours. You could not utter a word, but instead, you just moved to kiss his lips that you had desperately missed. 

“Rafe,” You mewled as his lips moved to your neck and his hand gripped your bosom. “You missed me, haven’t you, baby? Admit it, pretty girl,” Rafe hummed and nipped your skin but quickly soothed it with his tongue. You feel his ringed hand grips your thigh, his hand trailing up higher and higher. “Say it, pretty baby, tell me how much you’ve missed me,” Rafe practically growled. “Oh god, I missed you— so much,” You finally uttered and moved to straddle and push him down on the bed. You heard Rafe chuckle as it was your turn to pepper kisses on his neck. You feel his strong hands grip the flesh of your ass, and he guides you to grind upon him. “Let me prove to you that you’re the only one I want— will ever want, for that matter.” You gasped as Rafe barbarically ripped off your dress. “Rafe, that was couture,” You distractedly said as the fine dress was torn. “Baby, I don’t fucking care, I’ll buy you a new one.” He said and caught your lips as his hands fondled your exposed breasts, and your fingers tugged at the hem of his shirt. 

Your hands trailed the skin of his exposed chest, feeling the contours of his impressive physique, and your hands hesitated and hovered over his trousers. You looked Rafe into his blue eyes, “All yours, baby, I’m all fucking yours,” He growled and harshly kissed your lips as your hand slipped into his trousers and grasped his length that was already hard and throbbing. Rafe had no patience and slipped off his pants himself, smirking as you marveled at his length and your mouth practically salivated at the sight of him. 

“Tell me what you want, baby. Use your words,” Rafe whispered and nipped the lobe of your ear, making you whimper. “You… I want you,” You sighed as his fingers played with the sensitive buds of your breast. “Hm… what else?” Rafe urged, wanting to hear you foul and lewd— wanting you to utter your desires. “I… want… I want to suck you off and then fuck me after,” You whispered, staring into once clear blue eyes that now turned dark with lust and want. You gasped as Rafe altered your position. Him lying on your bed with your cunt hovering over his face. His hands guide you to lower yourself for your sex to meet his lips and your lips to meet his length. 

You could not hold in the moan as his hands forced you to shift all of your weight atop him, and his hand gripped your hair whilst your tongue traced the length of his pulsating member. “Rafe… oh fuck,” You cried as his tongue darted in and out of you, and you finally gathered the courage to take him into your mouth. You had difficulty before; you had quite a sensitive gag reflex, and Rafe’s massive length tested that. “Such a good girl taking me in the pretty mouth… so fucking good, baby.” Rafe praised against your cunt and granted as your cunt grounded itself on his face in search of further friction. Rafe felt the back of your throat squeeze him, and he feared he might spill himself in your mouth; that could not be. He needed to feel you around him before he could let himself feel such pleasurable release. 

You tried to catch your breath as Rafe repositioned you once more, you straddling him again. You buried your head in the crook of his neck as you sank down on his length. You hear Rafe wince in pleasure and pain as you sink into his cock and as you bit down on his shoulder blade. “So fucking tight… all fucking mine,” Rafe gritted as he was finally fully sheathed into you. “Rafe,” You called as you felt tears threatening to spill at the sensation of him being buried deep inside. “This is what you wanted, huh? You wanted to be fucked by me— only me,” You mindlessly nod your head as you feel him brush over a spot that muddle your mind and made your senses only feel pleasure. Rafe buried his face between your heaving chest and inhaled the scent of you deeply. Your hands scratched his back, making tingles reach the bottom of his spine, spurring him closer to climax. 

And though Rafe was desperate for release— he was addicted to the feel of your clinging and clenching around him, to the sweet moans that spewed out of your plump lips, and the tears of pleasure that cascaded down your cheeks. He wanted to savor you in such a state for a few moments more, even if it meant he denied himself the pleasure he had been seeking for the past two weeks. “Rafe… I’m— fuck, Ra…” You could not even finish or properly word out your sentence as pleasure consumed you. “Fucking hell,” Rafe gritted and tilted his head back as he felt your release trigger his own. 

You breathed heavily as you waited for him to spill himself inside you. Trying to compose your mind and control your breathing. You took his face between your hands, looking deeply into his eyes. “Still casual?” You breathlessly asked. Rafe shook his head and gripped your waist tightly. “Never casual.”

[freyaphoria]

Run Away Together (Part II)

a/n: It's me again! I apologize for making you wait months for the second part of this. First of all, this is the continuation of the first part I wrote, the main story. Since everything got so mixed, I feel the need to state it again. This story is the continuation of the fic where reader and hwa tried to escape and joong shot reader in the leg. I will start writing the second part of Passion to Punishment. And I would like to thank my babe, @matzrionette , for her contributions♡ PLEASE READ THE FIC SHE WROTE, I READ IT THREE TIMES EVERY DAY

tw: yan!hongjoong, poor hwa:( , blood, violence, bone fracture, failed escape attempt, punishment, swearing, knife, gun, killing, being shot, fever, painkiller use, body bruise, bone breaking with an iron rod, fainting, slightly gore, manipulation, hurt comfort(HAJDMDJ sorry), I had so much fun writing Jongho's parts, Yunho is at the crime scene AGAIN, kinda seongjoong

wc: 6.5k

taglist: @aim-blossom

Yan!Matz masterlist

<- previous part

Hongjoong, with his hands covered in blood from bandaging his new doll, opened the basement door, locked the two of them inside, and went upstairs. He had to do it; he had to hurt them. The tension in the air was palpable as he ascended the creaky wooden stairs, each step echoing the weight of his decision. Hongjoong's mind raced with conflicting emotions. He knew that to protect you, protect Seonghwa, drastic measures were necessary, even if it meant compromising his own morals. The blood on his hands was a stark reminder of the lengths he was willing to go to keep you here. As he reached the top of the stairs, he know that the consequences of his actions would haunt him for a long time to come.

Seonghwa’s attempt to escape after months, and your somehow convincing him, was an indication that Hongjoong’s plans were going well. Did Seonghwa breaking his rules make him unhappy? Yes, it did cause him a measure of displeasure. However, at this moment, what truly mattered was not Hongjoong’s feelings. After all, in the grand scheme of things, he would ultimately get what he desired; he had the power to make Seonghwa worship him once again. That was not what mattered right now.

After stepping out of the shower, Hongjoong meticulously put on his new clothes, carefully combed, and dried his growing hair. This grooming routine ensured he looked exceedingly neat, normal, and entirely harmless. His youthful yet captivating appearance was a highly effective tool in gaining the trust of his unsuspecting victims. People were drawn to his neat, his warm smile, the soft and gentle tone of his voice, the light that sparkled in his eyes, the professional gestures he employed while speaking, and the seamless harmony of the words he chose. Just like Seonghwa did...

If he lingered at home any longer, he would be late, so he quickly got ready and packed his belongings into a backpack. The weather had gotten colder compared to two hours ago when he had shot one of his victims and dragged the other inside, and he was angry with himself for not wearing his jacket and putting it in his bag. After quickly getting into his car and starting it, he turned on the heater and took out the paper from the glove compartment. He knew where he was going, but he still wanted to check. He saw photos of a man in the file. In the first photo on his profile, the old man's wrinkled eyes were full of life and shone with a light that was unexpected from his age. Hongjoong took pleasure in very few things as much as he took pleasure in making lively people lose their zest for life.

When he reviewed the file again and reached the last page, he suddenly hit his forehead with his hand in frustration. He was supposed to inform someone before leaving the house, but it had completely slipped his mind. He quickly went to the contacts on his phone, scrolling through the list, and was just about to find the name of the person he needed to inform when the phone rang. The unexpected call interrupted his search, and he hesitated for a moment before answering. When he saw who was calling, he realized he was indeed late, and the person on the other end of the line was likely angry with him.

“Why the fuck are you late?”

“How the fuck are you talking to your hyung like that?” Hongjoong fastened his seatbelt and put the files back in the glove compartment.

"Hyung my ass. I’m freezing here, hurry up or I’ll screw you the first moment I see you.”

“Shut up, I’m in the car, I’m coming"

“Hurry up, asshole.” All he wanted was a little respect, but he was looking for it in the wrong place. Respect was currently in the basement, probably calming down his new little lover. Hongjoong drove the car out of the parking lot and hit the road.

︶꒦︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦‧ ₊˚・

You had started to come to your senses. Hongjoong, the most considerate person in the world, had taken the bullet out of your leg without any anesthetic and stitched it up, causing you to pass out from the pain. But being extremely considerate, he had given you a choice: “Pick your own punishment, either I take that bullet out without any drugs, or I don’t take it out and it stays there.” You were going to choose the second option at first, but because living with a constantly bleeding wound that nearly exposed your bone and getting infected in this dusty basement would be impossible, you chose the first option.

And oh, when he inserted a big tweezer into your leg to remove the bullet, the pain was so intense that you wished you would die from the infection. The searing agony felt like it would never end. Maybe you didn't realize he hurt you so much on purpose, but the last thing you remember is Seonghwa holding your hand tightly, his grip firm and unwavering. His eyes were swollen and red from crying, tears streaming down his face as he whispered words of comfort, trying to keep you conscious and hopeful. The room around you seemed to blur, but Seonghwa's presence was the only thing that kept you grounded in those harrowing moments. Still, Seonghwa wasn’t very successful and you left yourself in the darkness of your mind.

"Angel! You're awake!" As Seonghwa crawled towards you, you tried to sit up from where you were lying. The constant pain in your leg and the cold spreading throughout your body made you jump and shiver suddenly. "Wait, don't get up suddenly." When you looked at him, you saw that his legs were bruised and swollen. It looked like the bruises on his skin were about to burst and bleed, as if he had been hit by something very hard. "H-Hwa? What happened to you?" your voice came out very hoarse, all that shouting and gasping in pain had dried your throat. Despite feeling freezing cold, the warmth coming from within you made you uncomfortable and you started to shiver. "Don't worry, I'm fine, but you have a fever. We need to bring it down." Seonghwa placed his hand on your sweaty forehead to check your temperature. His hands were trembling, and if you looked closely, you could also see his lips trembling.

"Is he still here?" you asked in a low and nervous voice, your eyes darting around the dark basement as if expecting him to appear any second. He shook his head slowly, his expression a mix of relief and concern. "He left about half an hour ago," he replied, his voice steady as he tried to stay calm and not alarm you.

He dragged himself on the ground again, his movements slow and labored, trying to reach the bathroom in the basement. You watched him with growing anxiety, the silence between you heavy with unspoken questions. "What did he do to your legs?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, but he didn't answer. Instead, he wet a tissue and came back to you, his face pale and etched with pain.

"Hwa, did he break your legs?" you asked again, your voice trembling as you tried to understand the extent of his injuries. He looked at you with haunted eyes, the silence stretching on, making your heart pound even harder.

When the wet and cold tissue touched your forehead, you shivered and wanted to pull back, but Seonghwa held your head with one hand, preventing you from retreating. “It doesn’t matter. We need to lower your fever first.” As he moved the napkin from your face to your neck, you flinched more and tried to move forward to escape, but your injured leg hit Seonghwa’s probably broken leg. A deep, pain-filled groan came from Seonghwa, and he tried to hold his leg. “Seonghwa! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to do that.” While Seonghwa continued to writhe in pain, he nodded at you and tried to smile as much as the pain allowed. “It-it’s okay. It-it will pass soon- Agh….” “We need to wrap your leg, there must be a cloth here, right?” When Seonghwa saw you moving, he grabbed your shoulder and tried to lay you back down. “I’ll take care of it, you worry about yourself. Your fever is too high.” He could never be convinced. Once he set his mind on something, he would definitely do it, and if he didn’t want to do something, he would never do it, so you didn’t argue with him further.

Seonghwa managed to lower your fever a bit and found a painkiller from the depths of the basement; its expiration date had passed by 3 months, and normally you shouldn’t take it, but it was a mild herbal medicine, and you really needed it. To see if you would be okay after taking it, Seonghwa tried it himself first and, not seeing any side effects, gave it to you as well. And surprisingly, it worked. Seonghwa hid these medicines in one of the most cluttered parts of the basement in case such an event happened again. As your pain eased, your fatigue fully surfaced, and you let yourself fall asleep. Seeing that you fell asleep willingly without passing out, Seonghwa felt a bit relieved. As he saw your fever dropping and the bleeding from your wound stopping, he remembered he needed to treat himself.

His leg was extremely swollen and constantly aching, a persistent pain that seemed to get worse with each passing moment. The pain was so intense that it made him feel dizzy and lightheaded, as if the world around him was spinning, and the painkiller he took didn’t work for him. He thought about taking another one but didn’t, in case you needed it again since it worked for you. Hongjoong had probably broken both of his legs with an iron rod, right below the calf.

He couldn't stand on both of his legs; previously, he had hit his leg with an iron rod because he had tried to escape, but at that time, he could still stand a little. This time, it was impossible. It must have been definitely broken. The sharp pain was spreading from his ankle to his thighs, and from there to his entire body, becoming unbearable. It felt as if his entire body was broken, with pain everywhere. Every part of him hurt with each heartbeat and blood pump, making it impossible for him to stay still. The pain was making him dizzy, and his vision was starting to darken. If he didn't pull himself together, he would faint, and if he woke up only to find that Hongjoong's anger hadn't subsided and he attacked her again, he wouldn't be able to protect her while unconscious. But why was he protecting her in the first place? Was it because he felt guilty? Because he had given Hongjoong the idea to kidnap her? Maybe Hongjoong should have killed her right there.

He needed to pull himself together; he was sweating profusely, even in this cold basement. Crawling was excruciating, as if his leg was being sanded with sandpaper and his skin was being set on fire. Nevertheless, he had to wash his face. He had to do something, or he would lose himself. He pulled himself forward using his arms towards the sink. His arms also hurt; Hongjoong had hit his arm when he raised it to defend himself, but at least it wasn't broken. Compared to the pain in his leg, the pain in his arm was nothing. But the most painful thing was breaking Hongjoong's trust.

He shouldn't have done it, yes, he had gone too far. He had ruined Hongjoong's trust in 5 minutes and didn't know if Hongjoong would trust him the same way again. But freedom had seemed very tempting. It meant he still wasn't a completely obedient toy to him, he needed more shaping. He noted to himself that when Hongjoong returned home, he would need to fall at his feet, apologize hundreds of times, and beg for his forgiveness.

He gave a sigh of relief when he reached the sink with tears streaming down his face from the pain. It had taken him about 5 minutes to get there from your side, even though it would normally take a regular person 10 seconds. If you suddenly called him, he couldn't come immediately, so he had to finish it quickly and return to your side. He lifted himself using the strength from his arms, each muscle straining with effort, and bent over the sink. He tried not to put any weight on his feet, which throbbed with a dull, persistent pain. When he quickly washed his face with the cold water, the sensation momentarily jolting him awake, he let himself fall back to the ground and groaned in pain. He balled up a piece of toilet paper, wet it under the faucet, and, leaning heavily against the door frame, placed it on his ankle as a makeshift cold compress. He looked over at you sleeping calmly on the other side of the basement, your breathing steady and peaceful. He wished so much that he could sleep like you right now, to escape his pain and find some semblance of rest… Maybe he could sleep. His head was spinning, and the floor wasn't stable, it felt like he was on a roller coaster. As his head and eyelids grew heavier, his body began to relax. The pain hadn't gone away, it was still there, but at least he wasn't thinking about it right now. He would sleep, even if Hongjoong came here and took you, he would sleep, he needed it so much. The cold wetness of the wet paper ball on his leg had calmed him, and he let himself fall asleep.

︶꒦︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦‧ ₊˚・

"If you keep complaining about the weather a little more, Jongho, I'll throw you out of the car and you'll walk the whole way. I even turned on the heater for you, what more do you want?" Jongho shoved his hands into his pockets and glared at Hongjoong while shivering. "You accepted this gig, dragged me along, and now you're saying you'll throw me out of the car?" Jongho snapped angrily in one go. "You also chose to team up with me, you could have told Yunho, and he would have changed it. So stop whining." After Hongjoong's harsh response, the younger one sighed, sank into his seat, and started watching the road through the car window.

They weren't a good team, they constantly bickered and argued over the smallest things, but they still got their work done and left no evidence behind. "We're here, wake up, princess." Hongjoong said with a mocking tone as soon as they arrived. Jongho, who had been in a light sleep, immediately woke up and punched Hongjoong in the arm. "I'm not that little mouse you took into your home, don't call me that again, bastard." If they didn't have a job to do, they would probably have fought each other, but they knew if they didn't get the job done on time, Yunho would nag them. "Move, don't dawdle." Hongjoong got out of the car and looked at the ultra-luxurious villa adorned with lights. 'Same scenario again...' he thought to himself

They had paid a large amount to kill that old man to Hongjoong and Jongho, and now the reason was understood. Another rich businessman, another money-related murder. "How do these bastards have so much money?" Jongho stuck his head out of the car and looked at the mansion, which was almost invisible from the lights. "They don't sit at home jerking off like you, they work." Hongjoong spoke as he opened his trunk and took out his equipment. "What am I doing right now? Do you see my dick out or am I on the job?" Jongho also joined Hongjoong and started rummaging through his bag.

The mansion was four stories tall and very wide, built in a new architecture, and the ornamental shrubs in its garden looked recently pruned. As Yunho had said, surprisingly, only two security guards were protecting this huge house, and they didn't seem to be paying much attention to their surroundings. They could easily be killed. Hongjoong put on his special gloves and mask, took his gun and spare bullets. Normally, he wouldn't go on a mission with so little equipment, but Yunho had told them that even a few bullets would suffice, and they trusted him. He and his team had never made a mistake.

After dressing, Jongho threw his bag into the car and closed the car door. Outside, the only sound other than the wind was the two security guards talking as if they were discussing something very important. Both guards were taller than them but very distracted. Even though Hongjoong’s car wasn't very far away, the gurads still hadn't noticed them. With Hongjoong's signal, the two of them advanced from the side of the car to the front yard, towards the guards. Jongho usually preferred to use a knife; he was very good in close combat. Hongjoong was also good, but Jongho was much stronger than him.

They continued to approach silently. Since the house lights illuminated the entire path, there was nowhere to hide or camouflage; they had to be quick and attack as soon as they approached. Using the garden wall as cover, they got closer and were now very close to the guards. Jongho wondered how such careless people could be guards, but it worked in his favor. Thanks to that, he would complete his mission and receive a large amount of money he had never received before.

The guards were about three meters in front of them. In this silence, Jongho and Hongjoong could hear all their conversations, even their breathing. They had prepared themselves to kill them instantly. If Yunho was wrong and there were more guards, they didn't know what they would do.

Jongho stepped in front of Hongjoong and took his long and large knife in his left hand; he waited for Hongjoong's signal.

Hongjoong pulled the trigger of his suppressor-equipped gun, ensuring he held it properly with both hands for maximum stability. The suppressor wouldn't completely block the sound of the shot, but it would significantly muffle it. Since they were in an open area and the distance between the entrance and the house was far, it could prevent those inside the house from hearing the noise.

The two of them made eye contact, their gazes locking in silent communication. Hongjoong raised his eyebrows, a clear gesture indicating that he was waiting for approval from Jongho. Understanding the unspoken question, Jongho blinked in confirmation. With a steady hand, Hongjoong pulled his left hand away from the gun, making sure Jongho could see his every move. He showed three fingers to Jongho, signaling a countdown. Then, he lowered one finger, then two, and then one. And as Jongho grabbed the neck of the man with his back turned and stabbed him with the knife, Hongjoong simultaneously shot the man facing the knife-wounded man in the forehead. It had taken no more than 3 seconds for both to die, and as they had predicted, no other guards came from anywhere else. It was a very quiet job; everything had happened in an instant.

Now they had left the man on the ground with blood gushing from his neck and the other man whose brains were scattered all over the road and entered the garden to proceed towards their main goal, towards the mansion.

︶꒦︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦‧ ₊˚・

Suddenly, you were jolted awake by a sharp, piercing pain. As your consciousness slowly returned, you realized that your leg was bleeding from the area where it had been stitched up. It seemed that during your sleep, you must have made a wrong move, causing the stitches to tear open. The pain was so intense and overwhelming that for a brief moment, you completely forgot where you were and what was happening around you. The room seemed to blur as your mind struggled to catch up with the sudden burst of agony.

"Hwa..." You called out weakly to him, but got no response. The place where you were lying was stained and damp with the mixture of blood and the wet cloth that Hwa had used to bring down your fever. Your wound was definitely going to get infected. You tried to see Seonghwa in the darkness of the basement but it was nearly impossible. The reflection of the moonlight from the small window only illuminated the area in front of you. At least you knew he wasn't nearby.

"Hwa, are you here?" you called out, raising your voice slightly. The tension in your tone was unmistakable, filled with worry and fear. Seonghwa would never leave you alone after a punishment, especially not when you were suffering from a fever and bleeding. It was so unlike him. As the blood from your leg ran down your thighs once more, you felt a sharp pang of pain. Your vision blurred slightly, and you realized just how parched you were. The thirst crept up on you, making your mouth feel dry and your throat scratchy. You needed water, but more than that, you needed Seonghwa by your side to reassure you that everything would be okay.

The only continuous water source in the basement was the water from the sink, and there was no problem with drinking it. Besides, even if there was an issue, you had to drink it. Your mouth was very dry, and your lips were cracked.

You didn't want to try standing up; it would hurt too much. The idea of enduring another layer of pain on top of the already unbearable one was simply inconceivable. So, instead, you gathered all the strength you could muster and began to drag yourself towards the sink, relying heavily on your good leg and the support of your arms. As you slowly inched your way forward, you were startled by the sight of a silhouette leaning on the bathroom door. Your heart immediately started to beat rapidly, pounding in your chest, and you were gripped by a sudden sense of panic, not knowing what to do next. In your frantic state, you attempted to crawl back in the opposite direction, desperate to escape whatever danger the shadow might represent. But then, a low, agonized familiar groan emanated from the shadow, causing you to pause in your tracks. The sound was filled with such pain that it made you stop crawling.

"Seonghwa? Is that you?" you called out, your voice trembling with worry. When the shadow made a sound as if confirming, you quickly crawled towards him, your heart pounding in your chest. As you got closer, you could finally make out his features. He was drenched in sweat, and his eyes seemed glazed over, indicating that he wasn't fully conscious. His body started to writhe and moan in place, and you quickly realized that his condition was far worse than your own.

You reached out and touched his forehead, feeling the intense heat radiating from his skin. He had a fever, and it was burning through him even in this cold basement. You pulled back slightly, your eyes scanning down to his legs. The sight made your stomach churn. If you had to describe it in one word, it would be 'terrible'. His legs were completely messed up. Despite the poor visibility in the darkness, you could distinguish light from dark, and Seonghwa’s legs were an ominous, deep shade. They were swollen and purple up to his kneecaps, but 'purple' didn't quite capture it—they were almost black. "Seonghwa! Why didn’t you wake me up? Your legs are so bad!" you exclaimed in a panic.

You knew you had to help him. The condition of his legs was alarming, and you weren't sure if a person could die from such severe bone fractures, but he looked like he was on the brink. It was clear that Hongjoong must have hit the same spot over and over, pulverizing his bones into a gruesome state. Seonghwa's suffering was evident, and you couldn't let him endure it alone.

"Ugh… it hurts…” he groaned softly, feeling the intense pain radiate through his body. “I know it hurts. Wait,” you responded, your voice filled with concern. You stood up very nervously, taking great care not to open any more stitches that had barely begun to heal. And you did it! You managed to balance yourself by putting your strength into your good foot.

With determination, you wet a few cloths in the sink and leaned over to run them over his face, just like he had done for you before. The soothing touch of the wet cloths seemed to provide a small comfort in the midst of the chaos.

Suddenly, the door swung open with a loud bang, and the clatter of metal filled the room. Startled, you lost your balance and fell to the ground. Even though the impact sent sharp waves of pain through your body, you chose not to make a sound out of fear. The last thing you wanted to do was draw attention to yourself and face the devil who was now approaching.

He came right at you with an air of menace. As he suddenly turned on the lights, the harsh brightness illuminated his dangerous face. His expression was constantly grinning, as if everything was so funny, a stark contrast to the terror and pain you were experiencing. The sinister amusement in his eyes made your blood run cold.

“Where were we?” Hongjoong's voice sounded sarcastic and amused, the tone of someone who finds great entertainment in the suffering of others. Seonghwa’s eyes snapped open as soon as he heard his voice. It was like he had just woken up from a nightmare, except the nightmare was about to begin now, in real life, with no escape. “Don’t come any closer, can’t you see our condition? We’re already in a bad situation. What more do you want?” Your voice was trapped in fear, trembling and barely audible. You were wondering if he could hear you because your voice was so quiet, almost a whisper.

He took slow, deliberate steps in front of you, his eyes never leaving your trembling form. As he approached, towering over you, you felt the weight of his gaze. You were pinned to the ground, feeling utterly tiny and insignificant under his scrutiny. The sight of you, bloody and scared, with helplessness written all over your face, made his heart race with a mix of excitement and something darker. Seeing you in such a vulnerable state stirred something deep inside him, an insatiable desire that making him want more.

Seonghwa, with a sudden burst of energy, lunged forward, using all his strength to drag himself to Hongjoong’s feet. His movements were frantic, and it was clear that he still wasn't in his right mind. Hongjoong, on the other hand, was brimming with excitement. Hongjoong knew exactly what Seonghwa was going to do.

Hwa, what are you doin-” You were cut off when Seonghwa threw himself at Hongjoong’s feet, desperation evident in every movement. “I-I beg you, f-forgive me. I didn’t do it on purpose- agh! I didn’t do it on purpose. P-please love me again. I’ll do a-anything!” The basement was eerily silent except for Seonghwa’s pitiful pleading. Hongjoong watched him without uttering a single word, his expression unreadable. “Why would I forgive you? Who would love naughty little bunnies like you? After all, you betrayed me.” Seonghwa started to cry harder at Hongjoong’s cold, cutting words. You were on the verge of tears too, the discomfort and tension of the situation weighing heavily on you. You wanted to tell him to shut up and go back to his old place, but you were too scared to intervene.

“No, I’m not! I’m not naughty! I didn’t mean to act like that!” Seonghwa’s voice was choked with emotion, his tears flowing freely. Hongjoong watched his masterpiece with a sense of twisted satisfaction. His first love, with his legs broken, threw himself at his feet and begged for forgiveness while his new toy, with her burst stitches, watched what was happening in fear and helplessness. The wiev was of unparalleled beauty. If he hadn’t left his phone upstairs, he would have definitely taken a photo to preserve this view forever. Hongjoong felt a surge of power and control, basking in the pain and fear that radiated from both of you. The basement, usually a place of darkness and dread, became a stage for his cruel artistry, a tableau of suffering and submission.

“But you acted like that.” He finished his sentence with a smile by kicking Seonghwa in the chest. When Seonghwa’s breath hitched and he fell back, you backed away from Hongjoong in panic. Neither of you could muster the courage to speak. Only the sound of his painful, ragged breathing filled the room. Hongjoong looked down at Seonghwa’s ankles. They were broken, but it wasn’t anything that wouldn’t heal in a few weeks. Despite his injuries, it was almost endearing how Seonghwa continued to beg for forgiveness in such a weakened state. When Hongjoong shifted his gaze to you, he noticed that your leg was bleeding again. If he went any further, it would be hard for both of you to heal, so he decided it was enough for now. “Since I’m such an understanding person, I’ll end your punishment here. But you’ll be staying here for the next few days.” You were relieved that he wouldn’t hurt you any further. But you both needed proper first aid right now. “We can’t stay like this. H-Hwa is in a bad condition. Can’t you help him?” Your voice trembled as Seonghwa flinched when he heard his name as he writhed on the ground. The fact that you were thinking of him warmed his aching heart a little. Hongjoong looked at Seonghwa again and smiled that annoying smile of his. “You should have thought of that before you ran away together.”

You thought he would at least help Seonghwa. After all, Seonghwa had asked for forgiveness from him and had been with Hongjoong for a long time. But he hadn’t. He would leave him like this, he would leave you like this. You shouted and cursed after him as he left the basement; you didn’t know where you found this confidence but you were very angry with him. Interestingly enough, he didn’t turn around and do anything to you after you insulted him. He just locked the door and went upstairs.

︶꒦︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦‧ ₊˚・

As it was 5 am, the exhaustion of the whole day had settled on him like a heavy blanket. All he wanted was to take another shower to wash away the day's fatigue and then fall into a deep, dreamless sleep. Normally, he couldn’t sleep without Seonghwa by his side, but tonight he was so tired that he knew he had to sleep, no matter what. He didn’t even have the energy to dry his hair after stepping out of the shower with wet hair clinging to his face and neck. Instead, he just threw himself on the bed with a towel wrapped loosely around his waist and his hair still dripping wet. He was probably going to get sick from it, but he didn’t care right now. All he could think about was closing his eyes and escaping into the oblivion of sleep.

He couldn’t sleep. Despite his best efforts to find a comfortable position, he tossed and turned in bed for what seemed like hours. The chill in the air only made things worse, seeping through only the damp towel tied around his waist and about to be opened and causing him to shiver. The cold weather, combined with the lingering dampness of his towel, was a miserable combination that left him feeling even more cold. He had to wrap himself in something. Something warm. Something warm to take away the cold in his heart and body...

He got up with a stumbling motion, slowly put on some clothes, and started walking down the stairs. The sky was gradually lightening at dawn, casting a soft glow over everything, and the fresh morning air was filling the house through the open windows. He quietly opened the basement door, careful not to make any noise. He could see who was where with the light of the new sunlight seeping through the window. You were both sleeping where he had left you last, Seonghwa lying on the floor and you sitting with your backs against the wall. Sleeping would be the wrong word to describe your state. You were more like unconscious.

Hongjoong picked up his favorite toy, trying not to wake or hurting his toy. Although he was short compared to most men, he had a strength that was unexpected from his appearance; he was very strong, so he was able to easily lift his favorite. He returned to the basement door, casting one final glance at his other toy. Without locking it, he quietly closed the door and ascended the stairs. As he gently laid his toy on the bed, he heard a groan of pain.

“Shh, go back to sleep, my prince. I’m here.” Seonghwa’s eyes widened as he locked eyes with Hongjoong, feeling a rush of emotions. He loved him for that. No matter how much Hongjoong hurt him, he would always take care of Seonghwa and show him love. Hongjoong couldn’t stay mad at him for long. Even though he was still running away, he was still in Hongjoong’s bed right now. “I’ll wrap your legs, wait here,” Hongjoong said softly. When he returned with the first aid kit and went to Seonghwa’s side, he saw him looking at him with admiration and a disturbing level of affection. “What?” Hongjoong asked as he unwrapped the new bandage pack in his hands, trying to ignore the intensity in Seonghwa's eyes.

“I love you,” Seonghwa whispered. He loved him very much. Or maybe he thought he did; sometimes, he didn’t know. The lines were blurred. Hongjoong broke him so well, yet he couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of attachment. It was a complicated, twisted love, but it was all they had. Hongjoong broke him so well.

“It'll be over soon, don't worry. Just keep your legs straight.”

Seonghwa didn’t take offense that Hongjoong didn’t tell him he loved him back. He knew Hongjoong loved him too.

“Ugh Joongie, it hurts so much." Seonghwa squirmed in discomfort as he felt the tight bandage wrapped securely around his legs, which were throbbing with sharp pain. “Shh shh, I know. Be a good little bunny for me, and don't squirm.” Hongjoong's soothing yet firm voice made Seonghwa suddenly go still. He didn't want to disappoint him even more with his actions. "That's a good boy. I'll give you painkillers as a reward." Hongjoong's words were filled with a mixture of comfort and authority. Seonghwa's eyes met Hongjoong's, filled with a silent plea for relief, and he nodded weakly.

After Hongjoong finished wrapping Seonghwa’s legs tightly to ensure they were properly supported, he gave him a strong painkiller and laid down on the bed next to Seonghwa. He was enveloped in the warmth he so desperately needed, and the soothing heat radiating from Seonghwa’s weakened body served as a balm for Hongjoong’s cold heart and chilled body.

He closed his eyes, thinking that he could finally get some much-needed sleep by holding him tightly in his arms without hurting him too much. The warmth and comfort he felt were almost enough to lull him into a peaceful slumber. Just as he was about to drift off to sleep, he suddenly heard the annoying ringing of his phone. The sound was jarring in the quiet room, and he opened his eyes again, startled by the sudden noise, he noticed Seonghwa jump slightly in his arms. He gently reassured Seonghwa, whispering softly that nothing was wrong and that he should continue sleeping. With a sigh, he carefully reached for his phone to see who was calling, hoping it wasn't something urgent that would further disrupt their rest.

Jeong Yunho.

It was strange that he was calling at this hour, and if he was calling after the mission, it usually meant there was a problem with the mission. He sighed in annoyance and picked up the phone.

“What’s wrong?”

“Hyung, you need to come here immediately.”

The voice on the other end of the phone was anxious. It was hard to see Yunho anxious; he was always so sure of what he was doing and relaxed. Something was definitely wrong.

Hongjoong cursed at him when the phone abruptly hung up on him. Yunho always liked to make people curious and leave them hanging. As Hongjoong got out of bed and started getting dressed, he caught sight of Seonghwa’s anxious eyes. “Is someone in trouble again or are the police going to raid our house?” He could speak more comfortably now that the pain had subsided a little. “I don't know, he didn't say. Also, don’t bother your beautiful brain with such things. I’ll be back in a few hours. Make sure our princess doesn’t escape from the basement in the meantime. Otherwise, I won’t forgive you this time, Park Seonghwa. So, keep an eye on her and don't let your guard down again.”

It was absolutely impossible for someone upstairs with broken legs to check if someone in the basement had escaped, so Hongjoong carefully picked him up again before leaving the house and took him down to the basement. Although Seonghwa felt a deep sadness to leave the comfort of his bed and the warmth of Hongjoong’s arms, he was happy and relieved that he would now be able to keep an eye on you. Leaving the two of you in the brightly lit basement once more, Hongjoong made a mental note to get Seonghwa a pair of crutches on his way home. He then grabbed the bag containing his weapons and equipment, ensuring everything he needed was inside, and headed back to his car with a sense of urgency.

I wanna feedback juseyo♡ I wanna feedback please♡ I wanna feedback çebal♡

[justadeadreaper]

okay so I'm curious- puptrapping you say? That you'd need another post to go into? I'd like to encourage this please

Puptrapping?

You want to hear about puptrapping, you say?

Anon, your wish is my command.

Just so you know, this is like you encouraging a crack addict by finding them a new dealer. I am not joking because this is my obsession at this point, but I do encourage you to send in more asks about Omega!Makarov or ideas you want me to write about because I will. I never originally thought of puptrapping; instead, it was my dear friend @frogchiro who said that she thought he would based on a comment I made about him tying you down to make sure you cum in him. Also, do thank @frogchiro because she helped me form these ideas in our late-night rants, and she is my biggest encourager.

Now that I have written this, I am tempted to write about Omega!Makarov with pups or a fic based on this idea if anyone wants it.

Obvious warnings for puptrapping (omegaverse version of babytrapping) and all the shit that goes with it, Omega!Makarov spiking your drink with an omegaverse version of Viagra (that sounds so fucking weird), but also a big misunderstanding between Omega!Makarov and reader.

This whole idea is based on it being a misunderstanding. Omega!Makarov is a feared man; no one even knows he is an omega; you were only allowed that grace of knowledge due to being his alpha -specifically chosen for being the most desired for your size and strength-. Knowing how secretive he was about his second gender, you presumed that he would never want pups as it would reveal his identity to the world, and he could not have that, could he? Hell, you did not even think he loved you; he only used you to satisfy his natural instincts that come with being an omega so that he would not be on a constant edge from having his subconscious desires not be fulfilled. You enforced the rule around using some form of protection as you did not want to force or pressure him into having pups that he would never want in a million years.

But oh, you poor, dumb alpha. How wrong could you be?

Omega!Makarov is infatuated with you. As soon as he saw you, he knew that you had to be his; no one else would be able to satisfy him after he saw you. Yes, he may be a cruel, heartless man but he loves you in his own special way and let me tell you he loves you with all his heart! He genuinely does! Now, being that he loves you so much, it is only natural that he wants your pups; it is only made worse by him being an omega and having the natural instincts to breed and have pups that poor omegas like him have. He knew he wanted pups from a young age, even if he knew that he did not love like a normal person does. Another part of him wanting to have pups is his own relationship with his father. A narcissistic, bullheaded alpha that abused Makarov and his poor brother for being omegas, Makarov had to watch as his poor mother was abused for not giving that asshole the alpha sons he desperately wanted. His father was never nice to him; he was a horrid father who chickened out at the last minute instead of suffering the consequences of his actions. Makarov does not want to be like that; he instead wants to be the best father he can be and have as many pups as he can to shove it to the old man who damaged him so much, to embrace the one thing his father abused him for and always forced him to hide.

So, for you to say that you need to use birth control? That is the biggest insult to him! Do you not love him? Do you not think he is a good enough omega to have your pups? Are you just using him to get yourself off? Are you planning on just dropping him off one day? Why do you not feel like him? He wants your pups so badly, why do you not want to give them to him?

He damn near hissed at you for suggesting such a thing, but he decided to hold his tongue as he knows he will get his way, he always has.

Now it just. depends on what type of birth control you force him to use for what he does to still be able to have your pups.

Condoms? Expect every single one to have multiple puncture holes from the set of pins that used to belong to his mother. Small enough for you not to notice but just big enough to allow enough cum to come through to give him a nice litter of pups. But that is only if you are stupid enough to allow him to be the only one to supply the condoms or allow him to be around the box by himself for longer than two minutes. If you buy them and never let him near them, you can be sure that those things will rip because, for some reason, your knot was a lot bigger than it normally is causing the condom to rip.

Birth control? He is lying about being on it. The prescription he showed you was a fake he forced a poor pharmacist to make as the pills inside that he showed you were nothing more than sugar pills mixed with the omegaverse version of Viagra known as an Amplifa that helps people knot while also increasing their fertility that he forced the drug dealers he hires to make. Each day, he will take them in front of you, knowing that they do not work. But if you are the one to supply the pills, then he is finding any pill or herb known to man to counteract it so that the birth control fails.

The Amplifa he uses to spike your drink and his own have a few side effects. I imagine omegas to have a reverse knot to match an alpha’s knot, which means they are doubly bonded. How it works is by inflating the sides of the passage like how, for an alpha, the base inflates to lock inside; it is to make sure that the alpha is being milked of all their cum and that the omega is too tight for the alpha to pull out. Since both he and you have been spiked with it, it causes your knot to inflate beyond the point of it being pulled out while he is too tight that it hurts to try and pull out. It also makes the knots last for hours upon hours instead of the normal half an hour to an hour, as it makes you cum so much. Not to mention it makes you incredibly more horny so you could fuck for longer.

With everything prepared, he has sex with you.

Once you are close to cumming he leg locks you making sure you can not push him off as you cum. Your knot inflating inside him as he milks you dry, all while he is still moving his hips in a specific motion to cause more friction that stimulates you and makes you hard yet again. Wiggling his hips and whining as you have yet another orgasm while the two of you are stuck together as his reverse knot will just not let go. Watching as his tummy begins to form a bump already as it grows from how much cum you have stuffed inside of it with every orgasm. He puts on the “I’m innocent, I swear!” act; he uses all the manipulation tactics he knows, the fake tears, the lies, the everything. He is just a simple omega who was trying to enjoy sex with his alpha; he has no idea what is going on. Whining over how worried he is since with this much cum he is most definitely already pregnant, even if you were being safe. All of this while he continues to move his hips as you cum once more.

And as soon as you are asleep from exhaustion and overstimulation he is gently caressing his stomach as he purrs. He can already imagine the litter of pups he will be having in a few months and how much of a happy family you all will be...

[kinardgo]

Jee having fun with her uncles Buck & Tommy!

Maybe Buck feeling a little 🥰😍 watching Tommy being in 'competent dad mode', even though he's not ready for their own 😂

okay this is everything actually if season 8 doesn't give us tommy playing with jee and buck noticably ovulating across the room i will riot

bucktommy / rated g / mild warning for non serious accidental injury to a child

-

"-and take a nice, deep breath for me. This is going to sting a little, okay?"

It takes a few seconds for Buck's brain to come back online as he re-enters his apartment. It's been a quiet day so far, as quiet as any day off looking after his curious, hyperactive niece can be. They'd watched some TV, leaving some irritating cartoon pop song ingrained in his head, probably for the next week at least. Had some lunch. Afterwards, Jee-Yun had proclaimed her desire for ice cream with all the certainty of a biblical saint. Buck, a little soft hearted from an easy day surrounded by people he loves, agreed to go to the shop in search of some.

Maybe it's lulled him into a false sense of security, because he stares at the scene in his kitchen with a blank expression for a full three seconds before he galvanizes into action.

Jee's up on the kitchen counter, a little teary eyed, her bottom lip wobbling, blood trickling down her skinny calf.

"Woah, woah, hey," he says, rushing to Tommy's side, where he's crouched in front of the counter, "What happened?"

"Someone," he says, eyeing the slightly sheepish looking girl, "decided to ignore me when I said running full pelt around the place would end in tears."

"I'm sorry, Tommy," Jee says, her voice shaking.

"It's okay, chica. You're not in trouble. Tripped over the rug," he adds lowly to Buck, "Limbs everywhere, slid five feet, the whole ten yards."

Now he's a little closer up, he can see that. Her knee is all scraped up, a messy graze, but nothing deep. There's a little mark on her elbow, but no blood. Kids bounce, Hen once told him. Buck kinda wishes Jee would stop trying to test that theory out on him though.

"Now, stay nice and still while I get this cleaned up, okay sweetheart?" Tommy eases, turning his attention back to Jee, the full effect of his Cool And Unphased Firefighter Pilot shtick aimed at a tiny little person who doesn't even have a fully developed concept of consequence yet. It feels unfair. Buck's a whole ass adult and it's enough to make him spacy, "Do you know what this is?"

Jee looks from the antibacterial wipe in his hand, to Buck, and back to Tommy nervously, "No."

"This is a special kind of cloth that can get all the yucky stuff out of your cut, get it nice and clean."

"Like soap?"

"Kinda like soap, yeah," he nods, smiling, "It's gonna hurt a little bit, but that's how you know it's working. Ready?"

She nods, hands fisting in the skirt of her pink dress anxiously. Tommy swipes over the graze of her cut quickly and gently, efficient but effective.

"Brave girl, Jee," Buck murmers, rubbing a hand soothingly up her arm.

"Yes, she is," Tommy agrees, "Now, I'm going to put a plaster on this. Hold still for me-" She holds herself dutifully, solid like a rock, as Tommy smooths the dressing over the knee. It's probably overkill, but Buck knows that the power of belief in healing is almost as important as the actual healing bit.

"You did so good, Jee," Buck says, straightening up to plant a kiss in her hair. She giggles, grasping at him with her pudgy hands, "And so did you," he says, kissing him on the cheek. Jee shrieks with laughter the way she always does when Buck dares to show any kind of affection to anyone but her.

"Now, you," Tommy says, sweeping Jee off the counter, "Get settled on the couch, because it looks like your Uncle Evan got some cookie dough vanilla that's got your name all over it, kid."

Jee's face splits with a grin so wide it looks like it might hurt, then throws her arms around Tommy's neck, burrowing her face in his shoulder with a happy little sound, "Thank you, Uncle Tommy," The words are muffled into the collar of his shirt, but Tommy clearly hears loud and clear if the way his face scrunches up in delight is any indication.

Something heavy and dense swoops straight through the middle of Buck's core, through his chest and out through his stomach. Too much, too fast, too soon. Tommy gives Jee a final squeeze, swaying her a little so her tiny legs flop around, giggling happily until he puts her back down.

Jee cuddles up with a pillow on the couch, something that looks like elves on an acid trip playing on the TV while Tommy washes his hands and puts the first aid kit back in the cupboard and Buck gets three bowls of cookie dough ready for a good ol' fashioned sugar binge.

"She adores you."

Tommy looks up, even as Buck keeps his eyes resolutely on the ice cream.

"She's got a big heart," he says fondly, before adding, "Must be a Buckley family trait."

"She's a good kid," Buck grins, turning to look over at Jee, hugging one of the sofa cusions to her chest, so big against her that she can rest her chin on it.

"Yeah. Do you want kids?"

The ice cream scoop skids across the counter out of Buck's hand when he jerks in surprise.

Tommy laughs quietly, ducking his head to kiss his shoulder, "Not right now, Evan. Just... curious. You're good with her."

"So are you," he fires back. He knows he's being stupid, that he's acting defensive, and he doesn't even know what about. Jesus, he sucks when someone catches him off guard, "Do you want kids?"

It doesn't look like it bothers Tommy, who just grins like he knows better than to take Buck's knee-jerk panic personally. Probably because he does.

"Yeah. One day."

Buck can't help smiling back, "Yeah. One day."

They all squeeze onto the couch, Jee tucked in between them with enough sugar shovelling into her mouth for Maddie to have reasonable justification to murder him later. It's probably not how he would have described his ideal afternoon, but he can't find fault in it.

[noproofread]

Temptations (NSFW)

been a MINUTE. I've just been so burned out but today I finally had the energy to write :D I've been wanting to write this one for a while so here ya go. this one starts RIGHT AWAY

Dracule Mihawk x afab!reader

Mihawk is letting reader stay with him, but they won't keep quiet. voyeurism, masturbation, dom!mihawk, brat!reader, unprotected p in v, oral (male receiving), praise, edging (if you squint).

masterlist here

word count: 1,065

The sun was setting, causing the sky to turn a deep crimson color. The halls of Mihawk’s enormous castle were silent. The silence only broken by your own hushed gasps that emerged from the closed door to your room. You had been living in Mihawk’s castle for a couple of months. The former Warlord of the Sea had agreed to provide food and shelter (along with some complementary protection and eye candy) so long as you cleaned and cooked. It didn’t take long for you to develop a little crush on the yellow-eyed swordsman. Soft accidental touches and brief glances fed your fantasies. You never made any moves, wanting him to make the first one. Wanting him to share your fantasies with you. You resorted to taking care of yourself in your room, trying your best to keep quiet. Your fingers did the job, although in your mind it was Mihawk you desired.

Just as you were about to finish, the door to your room creaked open. Startled, you scrambled to cover yourself with your sheets. Staring at you were those yellow hawk-eyes. Your face was flushed and your heart dropped to your stomach. The silence between you was deafening. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself but can you please keep it down?” he whispered. He scanned you over the sheets, adjusting his pants. Suddenly, you realized he had been listening to you from the other side of that door. His room was too far away from yours for him to hear it from there. Your anxiety turned into excitement as you looked directly at the hardened bulge that formed in his pants. “Hmm? What happens if I don’t?” You dawned a seductive tone to your voice. Wanting to tease him. “Are you going to punish me?” You bit your lip, spreading your legs slightly under the sheets. He knows you’re under them. Deliciously laid out before him, it was too much to bear.

His erection hurt, he wanted to feel you around him. He tried to resist you, but he was unsure if he would be successful as he looked at you. You smiled and began rubbing your clit in front of him. Maintaining eye contact, you moaned out his name softly. Mihawk watched you, unable to move elsewhere. “Stop.” His voice barely a whisper. You giggled at his plea. “You don’t sound very convincing Mihawk~” You sighed. He inched towards you, as if hypnotized. His anger at your defiance and his lust for you had taken control of him. He wanted you to listen to him. He wanted you to submit to him. He wanted you.

Mihawk threw the sheets off of your body, grabbing a hold of your hand and placing it on his erection. “Deal with the consequences of your actions.” He spoke firmly. He watched you kneel on your mattress, hunching over as you pulled his pants down. He sprung out of his confinement, twitching at the feeling of your breath on his tip. Without warning you, Mihawk took a fistful of your hair as he pushed you towards him. A groan escaped his lips, your mouth was warm and wet. “God, you take me so well.” He looked down at you as you bobbed your head. Tears formed in your eyes as you attempted to allow him deeper into your throat. Most of the movement was controlled by him, you watched him throw his head back in pleasure.

He snapped back to watch you. Watching you drool all over him. You looked so perfect like this. But you could look better. He pulled out of your mouth, allowing you to catch your breath. “Get on all fours.” He commanded. You listened. You wiped the tears from your eyes, taking his instruction. Mihawk climbed onto your bed, positioning himself behind you. Taking in the sight of you, so eager. This wasn’t a punishment and you both knew it. Unbeknownst to you, Mihawk wanted to punish you. He teased your entrance, you gasped at the brief contact. You wanted him so bad it hurt. “You have to be quiet. Otherwise you don’t get to cum.” He whispered before pushing himself into you. You fell into the pillow below you, biting it to hold back a loud moan. He felt so good inside you. Stretching you in the most delicious way. Mihawk adjusted himself before moving in an excruciatingly slow pace. It was torture, sweet torture. You moved against him, making him stop. “My house, my rules.” Mihawk spoke. You whined in response.

He began moving once again. Going deeper into you with every slow thrust. The pillow below you was wet with your own drool as you bit down to muffle your lewd sounds. Mihawk picked up the pace, slamming into you. The feeling of him inside you combined with the sound of his grunts of pleasure were euphoric. It was everything you had dreamed of. “You’re doing so good for me.” He whispered. A string of “good” echoed from the Warlord as he plowed into you, inching closer to his climax. You let your eyes close, focusing on the feeling of pressure building in the pit of your stomach. “Good girl.” With every word of praise that came from the Pirate you grew closer to exploding.

Mihawk placed a hand on your back, pushing you down into the pillow. His hand. It felt like a delectable fire on your skin. You screamed into the pillow as you felt a wave of pleasure wash over your entire body, tightening around him in your orgasm. Mihawk let out a loud moan as your walls squeezed down on his cock. He pulled out quickly and painted your back with his hot cum. Mihawk was panting, catching his breath. You collapsed onto your bed, turning over to look at him. His face was flushed, it was cute. “Did I do good?” You teased him.

“You follow directions very well.” Mihawk said. “Don’t make me come here again.”

“Hmmm. What if I don’t follow that direction?” You smiled softly, getting up from your bed to clean up. “I mean it. Don’t make me co-” You cut him off by closing the door to the bathroom. “Oops I didn’t hear that” You laughed loudly. You wanted to get him angry. You had already decided to not follow his instructions so easily. It’ll be more fun that way.

[demodraws0606]

I'm kinda peeved off that I'm seeing a few people that have the critique that Siffrin didn't deserve their "happy ending" in the end, that he was forgiven too quickly. I'm bad about this for actually a number of reasons.

(Warning this will be long because I am irrationally passionate about this, totally not because I relate to Siffrin or anything ahahahahaha)

First, logically, Siffrin's actions definitely are not as awful as people make it out to be especially not in the context of a time loop story. The worst Siffrin has done was his actions in the Bad Touch achievement and the last loop, one being purely optional. Outside of that, any tampering Siffrin had done was purely harmless, sure it's existentially horrifying but it's not like he did any actual manipulation.

You could also argue since Siffrin was in control of the loop, they are responsible for everything that was happening but we know full well he wasn't in control literally, his emotions were in control of the loop. Considering, a whole thing in this story is how acting as though you're fine and trying to control your emotions don't work, I don't think we can make the argument Siffrin was really in control.

He only wanted to trap everyone in the timeloop when it already had destroyed his mind. I thought it was obvious it was a monkey's paws situation.

The last time loop was the breaking point of Siffrin and it's one of the things he does suffer consequences from, they do get mad at him and he does apologize. What else do you want him to do ?

The Bad Touch achievement is the only thing that could be said to be "unforgivable" but it's optional and as far as I know it's hinted that Siffrin would talk about it with Isabeau. In fact it's said that even though right now they're fine and okay, they literally say they are okay to be mad at Siffrin later.

And also, it's not taking into acount the Actual feelings of his family either. They can't remember the loops and they have their own reason to not still be mad with him, so why should they hold Siffrin accountable for feelings they don't have.

In fact, the storyline strikes the perfect balance to not have Siffrin do such horrible action that he'd actually be unforgivable but still have him do enough that it shows what the loops are doing to him but....

..it's not just logically, judging Siffrin's actions as bad/good things like that is not just what's wrong with the narrative that Siffrin should've suffered more consequences. It also goes against the narrative itself.

For me at least, ISAT is a game about mental illness but also recovery. It's not coincidental a lot of people project their own mental issues onto Siffrin, it's not just a "ahahaha they're so relatable !!", it's a genuine part of the story.

I could make an entire essay about it but that's not the point, what would a story about these themes be if the ending was just "you need to repent for the things you did during your own mental breakdown"

It may seem ridiculous after all this that they'd just forgive Siffrin after all of this, but really hasn't most of the points against Siffrin's morality been coming from Siffrin themselves.

Siffrin believed he deserved to be rejected, that he deserved the suffer, that he was disgusting. It was these belief that kept him from talking about the loop because for him, everything was his fault. Not just because he created the loop but because the desire of staying with them was the very sin he hated himself for since the beginning.

So for all that self hatred to be met with, strange acceptance. It almost seems ridiculous, and Siffrin's talk with Odile in the epilogue reinforces how almost comedic it is.

It's close to reality, isn't it ? How many times have you thought you did something completely unforgivable to someone you cared about and you were waiting for them to be furious at you, but that moment never came.

Because they just simply weren't hurt enough by what happened. And sure it was definitely a bad thing you did and they were maybe mad in the moment, but you apologized. Sure there could be more consequences for what you did but what's the point in asking for them to be more mad at you ?

Shouldn't you strive to be better than beg to be hurt for your actions ?

Do you think being hurt, being yelled at would make anything better other than just feed the voice in your head what it wants to hear ?

Weird flowery talk aside, it just doesn't fit the themes and the narrative of the story is what I'm saying. Asking for more punishement for Siffrin goes against what the story is about.

It's just like complaining that the looping mechanics are too frustrating, that's part of the package deal bb !!

Fuck the idea of "repenting by suffering through the consequences" !!! Having to deal with "blinding unrelenting forgiveness and kindness" is in !!!!

[askinkiskarma]

High Infidelity II

Adult!Neteyam x (f)Metkayina!Reader x Aonung

Warnings: cheating, aonung being an absolute dick, cursing, 18+ minors dni

Word count: 5.6k words

Notes: besties, you ate this up and i love you for it. seems we all love neteyam mr steal-yo-girl, and i get it, i get it so much. enjoy x

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Lock broken, slur spoken, wound open, game token I didn't know you were keeping count

Your picket fence is sharp as knives I was dancing around, dancing around it

“One day, you’re going to beg me to fuck you. And I’ll do it so well, you will never be able to get me out of your mind, never be able to touch yourself again without an image of my cock slipping in and out of you ingrained in your brain.” 

His words lingered in your mind as much as the aftershocks of the pleasure he took out of you lingered in and on your body. You were shaking, shaking with guilt and fear, at what you did, at what just happened, at thoughts of how you could possibly fix this, or hide this, but worst of all, at how much you wanted more. You needed more. You were shaking because it wasn’t enough. Reeling because, right now, even as fear and guilt pooled in you, they held no candle to the desire that settled deep within your soul, that seeped into every facet of your being, into every cell of your body. 

You wanted him. You needed him. You wondered briefly if there were any lengths you wouldn’t go to in order to feel this feeling again, to get him to do to you everything you knew he was capable of, everything you couldn’t even imagine, but wanted to find out. As you made your way back to your tent slowly, face flushed and weak knees, trying to adjust your disheveled figure and your wrinkled loincloth, you knew the answer was no. There were no lengths.

You were excited to be able to go to sleep tonight, excited to be able to leave your mind and soul to rest and weigh in the calamitous actions that have transpired in this fateful day, and felt anxiety fill you up as thoughts of the consequences of your actions started bearing down on you. What were you going to do? How would you ever be able to look Aonung or his family in the eye ever again? You were angry at him, so angry, so bitter and hurt at the way he has treated you for so long, at the way it felt like he almost pushed you into this scenario, pushed you to a point of breaking, a point you never thought you’d reach. You were a good girl. Kind, and happy and empathetic and understanding. That’s why you and Tsireya have always had such a strong bond - two girls with no ulterior motives, no underlying agenda, no mean spirit or facetious intentions. Just pure light, emanating and spreading around you to everyone you touched. You stood by Aonung his whole life, you allowed him to change and grow while he shrunk you into a shell of yourself, of who you were, who you could have been if he actually loved you enough, actually cared enough. 

Your tent was cold and desolate as you entered it, just like you felt. All alone. The longer Neteyam’s presence and his warmth and his words were removed from your own, the worse you felt, the worse the feelings pooling in the pit of your stomach, nagging at your mind and cursing you, admonishing you for your thoughtless actions and irredeemable mistakes.

“I fucked up again, didn’t I?”  

You jolted violently at the voice coming from deep within your tent, enveloped in a blanket of deep, unflinching darkness. You turned towards it, and as your eyes adapted slowly, you could make out Aonung’s body, and the tiny bioluminescent freckles glistening dimly and increasing in size as he moved closer to you.

Your heart thumped in your chest as the one person you didn’t want to see, the one person you couldn’t see without fumbling into a mess of broken heartedness and misery, stood in front of you, shoulders hunched and a forlorn look on his usually peppy and unencumbered face. 

“I can’t seem to be able to stop myself from hurting you, from making a mess of a good situation, a good person.”

You gulped silently at his words, trying to push the lump that formed in your throat, that didn’t allow you to speak or to acknowledge his presence, so you just watched him and waited. Waited, as he reached over and took your hand in his, his soft hands a striking difference to Neteyam’s calloused ones, and you cursed yourself for thinking of the Omatikaya boy even in this moment, when he should be pushed away from your thoughts, so far away he should be a dot on the horizon of your mind. His other hand found your cheek, that he was caressing carefully, softly, like you were a doll or a feather that would be blown away at the slightest push or breeze of the wind, which, in this moment, it felt like you were. 

“Please look at me. Please.” 

He willed your face upwards, putting pressure on your jaw as you refused to meet his gaze, and eventually you had no choice but to see his eyes, those beautiful sky blue eyes that you used to get lost in as a child, that used to shimmer and glow with childlike wonder when they looked at you, eyes that were now red and sad. You winced as you took them in, took him in, as the regret and sorrow almost rolled off of him and into you, amplifying your own pitiful emotions and your ever-growing self-loathing. 

“I’m so sorry. I know the words mean nothing coming from my mouth, I know that. I know that no words could ever make it up for the way I’ve been treating you all this time, and how much I have taken your love, your kindness, for granted. You know, you are the only one, the only person in my life that has always stood by me, that has seen me for more than I was, but who I could one day be. I’ve always felt like a failure. My whole life, I have lived in the shadow of my parents, who I have continuously let down by not being who they wanted me to be, who they thought I could be. I have lived my whole life knowing I was a disappointment to them, a stain on their immaculate track record, that was partially erased only by Tsireya’s presence, but was still there, no matter how hard they tried to hide it. But you, you’ve always seen me, you’ve always believed in me. I have loved you my whole life, but when they both ordered me, told me I had no other choice but to be your mate, that you were the only way I could redeem myself in their eyes, you became something else. A burden, another reminder of all the things I’ll never be, all the ways I’ll never be enough for my family. I blamed you for their shortcomings, and my own, and I am sorry.”

The tears were falling flawlessly down your face, like there was no other place for them to be than on your cheeks and on your chest, on his thumbs as he was brushing them away gently. 

“I’ll be better, I promise. You deserve better.” 

I don’t, you thought miserably. Not anymore. 

You barely got out of your tent in the next few days, dread filling you as the marui shook with every person who walked the common pathways that connected all the homes together, as you imagined it was Aonung or Neteyam, or Tsireya, or anyone else who you would have to look at and talk to and lie to. Your mate-to-be was busy, busier than usual with the Omatikaya, who were all getting better in time and as a result, needed more attention with more complicated matters, matters which took effort and patience, and you were glad. In a sick part of your soul, you hoped Aonung would have continued treating you like dirt, like he had for so long, as that would have diminished the guilt eating at you, guilt that now engulfed your every happy thought, every ray of light in you and replaced it with dark thoughts and heavy resentment for everyone involved. You tried so hard to stop thinking of Neteyam, of his hands and his lips and his words, and hated him for doing this, hated him for the effect he had on you, for turning you from an innocent soul into this, an adulterer, a liar, a mess of depraved thoughts and desires, pulsating through your body and settling in your core, that ached to be filled, that was dying to feel him, to be ruined by his touch, that was so powerful that it took everything in you, every ounce of focus and self-restraint to drown it, instead of letting it drown you. 

A few more days passed and you knew it was time to face the world, and face your fears. Your eyes settled on the new bracelet now adorning your arm, crafted by him with some of the most beautiful beads, pebbles and shells you have ever seen. An apology gift, he called it. As you thought about it, and about him, a revelation hit you, spreading its gleam all around you and bringing new breath in your lungs.

A new beginning. You both deserved a new beginning. You both deserved the chance to start over. You made mistakes. A big one in particular. But so did he. So many of them. You both screwed up, but you could move past. He wanted to, why shouldn’t you want to? He was your mate-to-be, he was your chosen one, your betrothed, your friend since childhood. You both deserved a second chance. You wanted to try. You had to try, you owed it to yourself and to him to try to give this a chance. 

And now was the best time to do it, as you knew from Tsireya that she was taking the Sullys to the Cove of the Ancestors today, which meant Aonung was most likely training with his father. 

“One day, you’re going to beg me to fuck you. And I’ll do it so well, you will never be able to get me out of your mind, never be able to touch yourself again without an image of my cock slipping in and out of you ingrained in your brain.” 

Neteyam was a mistake. A mistake you wouldn’t make again. You had to try. 

You had to try. 

As you suspected, Aonung was deep in training with his father, who looked up and smiled widely as his eyes fixated on your approaching form. You liked Chief Tonowari. He was kind and gentle, and he was excited about the prospect of you joining their family. You wondered briefly if he could ever understand, if he knew how much his excitement on the matter inadvertently caused you grief, and put strain in between you and his son and made the bond that much more difficult to deal with, the idea that much harder to swallow.

You greeted him, smiling in his direction and the smile faltered slightly as you and Aonung made eye-contact. He was still embarrassed about his actions, and still thought you were distant because you hadn’t forgiven him yet. You hadn’t, but your need for distance had dark undertones he could never even imagine, and you didn’t want him to. 

“Are you here to train with us?” The Olo’eyktan chuckled a little at his joke. You were no warrior and he knew that. You didn’t have the stomach for such things, preferring to keep to yourself and to help from the sidelines, the gift of the Tsahik running through your veins from a young age.

“Not quite, just here to see your son.” 

“If your parents don’t come back in time, you should join us for the celebration of the tulkun returning. We’d love to have you, and I’m sure my children would, too.”

“I’d love to. Thank you for the invitation.” 

Elation enveloped you as the horn that announced the return of the tulkun was blown, and you immediately left your tent and dove straight into the warm, clear-blue water and called for your trusty ilu, your good friend, hurrying towards your spirit sister, that you knew was waiting for you. It was a day of bliss, of celebration, of happiness in the clan, the most important day of the year, that marked the beginning of days of festivities and rituals, and you couldn’t wait. It was like the universe, like Eywa was giving you a chance, a clear sign that the tides were changing, and you could be changing with them, embracing the new and discarding the old. 

You heard her sooner than you saw her, her indistinguishable voice propelled through the water straight to your ears and through your body, filling you with relief and light. Her trills and stories allowed you to relax for the first time in so long, and you listened as she told you tales of her travels, of all the memories she’s made in the year you’ve been apart. When it was your turn, you did the same, stopping at the story you wanted most to tell, but knew you couldn’t, even to her. 

“There’s more that you want to say, isn’t there? I know you’re keeping something from me, something important, something life-altering.”

You winced and scowled in her direction, upset at how well she knew you, at how connected you were. You looked around you, trying to see if anyone would be paying attention to you, and noted all Metkayina were too busy with their own stories, their own reunions, for you to matter in the slightest. 

“I met someone. He makes me feel things I have never felt before. He makes me question my life, and everything in it. He treats me well, and says all the right things, but it’s wrong, it’s a mistake. He’s a mistake. I’m trying to fix it, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to.” 

“Sometimes, people come in our lives as mirrors to ourselves. Mirrors to our soul, allowing us to see the truth in who we are, the truth of what we want. To shine a light on the darkness within, on the deepest parts of us we would have never seen without them. Sometimes, that’s the only way for light to enter in places it would have never reached otherwise.”

You had no answer to that, and you hoped whichever mirror Neteyam held to your soul didn’t lead to so much darkness it would overtake you and the people you loved, the people you never wanted to hurt. 

The celebrations were as beautiful as they always were, surrounded by music and cheering, dancing and good food, love and friendship. You were happy if not a little nervous to spend this time with your soon-to-be in-laws, and that happiness quickly vanished as you realised you were to be joined by the Sullys. 

Aonung had a small smile on his face as he spotted you, and you tried your best to focus on him and not behind him, at the man staring at you with such intensity it was making you acutely aware of your own heartbeat, that now sounded painfully in your ears and against your eardrums. The whole world drowned around you, as it always seemed to when his presence was near yours, and Tsireya had to shake you, in order to bring attention to herself and back to the present, back to them. 

“Sister, are you alright?

“Yes, Tsireya. I am fine, sorry. I got lost in my thoughts.” 

She laughed a little at you, but then took your hand and guided you to the strangers who were eyeing curiously. 

“Sister, these are the Sullys. My dad invited them for the celebrations, as it is their first return of the tulkun. This is Jakesulli, the former Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya and Toruk Makto, Neytiri, the former Tsakarem of the Omatikaya, and their children, Neteyam, Kiri, Lo’ak and Tuk.” 

You tried your best to force a natural smile out. 

“It’s nice to meet you. I have heard a lot about you all, about some of you more than the others.” You eyed Tsireya playfully and your eyes briefly moved towards Lo’ak, who you knew Tsireya took a liking to. The entire family laughed at your joke, and at Tsireya and Lo’ak’s bashful and embarrassed looks. You felt a small twinge of jealousy for Tsireya, who was able to freely choose her mate, to freely love a Sully without contention or judgement, or pressure, and was obviously loved the same in return, as the Sully looked at her like the sun rose in her eyes. You didn’t know what that felt like, at least not until you met Neteyam, a man who you couldn’t have, a man who you couldn’t keep your thoughts from gravitating towards, a man who was eyeing you like he was undressing you with his gaze alone. You swallowed harshly, trying to contend with his presence and the wetness gathering in your beaded loincloth.

After dinner, the adults dismissed you, knowing deep down you all would much rather go and enjoy your time with the rest of the Metkayina youth, who knew how to celebrate, especially on nights like this. You were young adults now, and young adults got to go off on their own, and got to have their own kind of parties that the adults could no longer prohibit you from enjoying. That’s where you were headed. It was wild, and it was hot. It was everything you were afraid of growing up, and everything you craved now, more so by the day, it seemed. Mates and prospective mates were dancing sensually with each other, cups filled with alcohol made of the plants growing in the mangrove jungles deep within the island and spilling on and around them with each undulation of their bodies. You loved it, loved your traditions that were unique within the Na’vi people, that no other clan knew about or experienced quite the same way. You smiled as Tsireya handed you a cup and watched as Rot’xo poured some of the drink into everyone’s cup, and you all signalled an I See You to each other before taking a small sip, enjoying the way the warm liquid left burning traces as it made its way down your throat. 

You watched as the rest of the your companions did the same, and chuckled a little at the way Kiri and Lo’ak and Tsireya reacted to the drink, clearly their first time trying something like this. 

“That’s all you get, youngsters. I don’t want to have to drag any of you back home in a couple of hours and have to face the wrath of either Olo’eyktan.” You heard Aonung say, as he removed the jug from Rot’xo’s hands and kept it for himself. “Now go, enjoy yourselves. Show the forest people how we, Metkayina, do things.” 

There it was again, that mischievous glint in his eyes, and you pondered how will the alcohol affect your mate-to-be this time. It was always a surprise, ranging from kind and sweet and loving, to aloof and despondent, to angry and wanting to pick fights with whomever was unfortunate enough to be close by. He took your hand and pulled on it gently, willing you away, away from sight, away from the others. You followed him, unable to stop yourself form glancing behind you one last time, and wishing it was someone else doing it instead. When your eyes met Neteyam’s, you knew he felt the same, and you tried to remove the image of the hurt flashing across his face from your memory, knowing he wasn’t yours to care for, and you weren’t his to take away. 

You and Aonung sat down on the warm, golden sand that now glowed with bioluminescent plankton whenever the water hit it, and you felt your body relax at the calming, rhythmic sound of the waves that cleared your mind and soul of the anguish that seemed to constantly plague it recently. A constant tug of war lived within you, between what you wanted, what you needed, and what you felt was the right thing to do. You didn’t know which was going to win, but you knew it was a lose-lose situation regardless. You either lost your innocence, and the trust of the people you loved, or yourself. You didn’t know which was worse. 

The Metkayina young man poured more alcohol in your cup and you welcomed it, welcome the opportunity for your mind to quiet, no matter how that was accomplished. You felt the alcohol going to your head quickly, making a mess of your thoughts and lifting your spirits. You and Aonung stayed like this, talking comfortably, just like you used to do when you were younger, and you felt grateful for the memories, and grateful that the drunk Aonung you got was this, the nice and charming version of himself you have always loved, you have always hoped for. 

“Remember when we were fifteen and I convinced you to sneak out and go outside of the reef to Three Brothers Rocks? It took forever for me to talk you into it, but I think you were happy once we arrived and you found pebbles and shells you never could on the beach. I remember looking at you admiring them, telling me how beautiful they are, and all I could think of is how beautiful you were.” 

You smiled at his words, and how slurred they were the drunker he got, and giggled when he let out a small hiccup. 

“You’re just saying that because you’re drunk.”

“Maybe, but I don’t think so. You’re still so beautiful, even more beautiful. M-more beautiful… every day.” 

Your back was laying on his chest and a warm feeling cloaked you as you lowered your head on him and looked up at the stars. Maybe you could do this. Maybe you could forget about Neteyam and allow yourself to remember what it was like to love this man you’ve known all your life, the man you may not be in love with, but you could be one day, if he continued speaking to you the way he was, the way you’ve dreamt about all your life. 

He started peppering kisses down your throat, sucking on your soft skin and licking where you could feel he left marks. Heat pooled in between your legs as he did, and so did the hatred in your soul when the only face that came to mind was not the one currently on you, and you pulled yourself away from him, trying to put some distance in between your bodies and some thought back into your head. 

“Not now, Aonung. Please. We’re so close to the Iknimaya.”

“Exactly, we’re so close. Why wait anymore? I want you. I need you, I have for so long, I need to feel your body on me, around me. Nobody has to know.” 

“Except we will know. I will know. If I am to be part of your family, to be your mate, I want to do this right. You’re drunk, very drunk, and I’m getting there, and this isn’t the way to do it, not the way I want to remember this moment for the rest of my life.” 

He scoffed and pulled you by your queue back on his chest and you yelped as the action sent pain through your entire body. 

“Can you just lighten up for once in your life? You have always been such a fucking killjoy. Do you think your friends aren’t fucking their mates to be? Do you think they’re all prudes like you, waiting and waiting until you’re good enough to pass your Iknimaya?”

The pain of his actions and his words overtook your entire existence, warped itself around you until there was nothing left of you but its echoes ringing in you and out of you, in the form of sobs and cries you wish you could drown in. 

“Let me go.” 

You got up and forcefully removed your queue from his grasp, trying to ignore how badly the pain combined with the alcohol was making your head spin, and started walking away. You didn’t get very far, as he ran in front of you and put his body in between you and your path, and you hissed loudly at him, the sadness blossoming into anger so powerful, you have never felt it before in your life. 

“I’m sorry, alright? That came out wrong. Just… let’s not let this ruin this beautiful evening. I feel like I’m just getting you back, you can’t leave me.” 

“Get away from me, Aonung.” 

You watched in your hazed state as Aonung’s body twirled like an underwater current, and you struggled to understand what was happening, until a deep voice filled your ears and your senses, the way it always did, the way it always will. 

“You heard what she said. Leave her alone.” 

Neteyam’s navy blue body was barely visible in the dark of night, but his eyes gleamed with fury and intensity and so did his freckles, and it was enough to know that he was furious, and he was ready to fight. 

Aonung could barely stand up straight, but laughed mockingly in Neteyam’s direction. 

“Oh, the tree hugger is coming to the rescue. She’s my mate, she doesn’t need saving from you. Isn’t that right, yawne? Tell him you’re fine, we’re just playing around.” 

As he reached his hand over to grab you, you flinched and put even more distance in between you, getting so close to Neteyam that you felt the warmth of his body on yours, making you feel safe again. 

“Come back here, you -“ 

One finger is all it took, one finger against Aonung’s chest for him to be pushed back to his place, back away from you. 

“Back off. Now.” 

Neteyam’s voice was menacing, and you knew Aonung felt it too, as a quick look of fear flashed in his eyes and he stayed put, unable or unwilling to push the Omatikaya, who you both knew would win this fight by a landslide. 

“Smart choice.” 

His warm hand found your lower back and you shivered at the contact. “Let’s go, I’ll take you home.” 

There were no words as you walked on the beach that was still beaming with life and laughter, no words that could ever describe the feelings you felt inside, each of them stronger than the other, all of them threatening to overtake you. You saw the village come into view and knew you couldn’t bear it, couldn’t bear the thought of your tent where he could find you, where even if he didn’t, you would be all alone again. 

“I don’t want to go home. I want to go to the beach.” 

The tears were rolling down your cheeks mercilessly and Neteyam’s eyes softened as he nodded and motioned for you to lead the way. You were grateful for his presence and his silence, grateful for how he was barely touching you so as to not make you more uncomfortable or remind you of the man you left behind, grateful that he knew exactly what to do and what to say, grateful that he was everything Aonung wasn’t and nothing that he was. 

You were dizzy still as you arrived to your beach and dizzier still as you fell on your ass unceremoniously. The amber of Neteyam’s eyes reminded you of the liquid the brought you here, that made you this way, and you knew you couldn’t look into them for too long without feeling nauseated. 

He sat besides you, but left space in between you, which you appreciated. 

“I’m sorry this happened. Are you alright?” 

You laughed bitterly, unable to help yourself. 

“Am I alright? Well, let’s see. I have been treated like dirt for years by the guy I thought I loved and that I am meant to give myself to forever, then I met a guy that makes my entire body convulse the second he comes close to me, I allow him to do things to me only my mate should ever be able to do, and I love it, and I can only think about more, about his words and the way I only feel the way I feel when I’m with him…” you took a deep breath and sighed, allowing every dark thought and secret, everything you’ve kept shackled within you come to light. 

“Then the first guy comes and apologises, and says all the right words, which makes me feel even worse, makes me hate myself and hate everything around me, hate that I’ve allowed two men to drive me to this point, but still, I think that I should try. I should try to do this, be the good girl I’ve always been, keep my promise and my word to him and his family, to the clan. And then this happens.” 

“So no. I am not alright. I’m so far from alright, alright isn’t even on the same planet as me.” 

“I am sorry. I’m sorry I made your life harder than it needed to be. But I want you, I’ve wanted you since the moment I laid my eyes on you. I’ve watched you in the clan. You’re always kind, and helpful. You always have a smile on your face, a real, authentic smile. You’re a good person, and you deserve better. I did what I did because I want you to be mine. I thought you should know there are options out there. That you don’t need to confine yourself to someone just because you feel like you have to, that it’s expected of you. I know all about the pressures of expectations, and while I'm forced to shoulder them, I don’t want you to have to.” 

Your breath caught in your throat and there was nothing to say in regards to the power with which this man controlled every fibre of your being, the pull that his voice and his words had on you. He so quickly managed to become the sun your soul orbited around. You felt your body slowly inching closer to his, even as whatever little conscious mind you still had available was screaming for you to stop, that this was wrong and two wrongs don’t make a right. It took everything out of you, but you eventually listened. 

“I need to go. I wanted to come here, I wanted you to take me here, but I can’t be around you. Not anymore. Aonung is an asshole, and I will deal with him tomorrow, but what we did was wrong. What I did was wrong. I should have broken up with him, I should have told him that it’s over, that he’s treated me wrong one too many times. But I didn’t. And regardless what he’s done, I’m no better, not if I do this again. Once is a mistake, twice is a choice. I’m going home.” 

Neteyam sighed and you saw there was hurt in his eyes, on his face. He didn’t say anything to you as you left him and whatever it was you had behind. 

You needed to clear your head, clear the hurt and drunk thoughts swirling in your mind. You knew of a secluded spot to which Aonung used to take you when you were younger, that you thought would be perfect to wash this night away from your body and hopefully forget it ever happened. You pushed through the tall greenery surrounding you in order to reach it and stopped in your tracks when sounds of panted breaths and mixed moans filled your ears. 

“Aonung, fuck. Right there!” 

“You feel so good, baby. So good.” 

You ran as fast as your feet could carry you, praying and hoping they didn’t hear you, and when you knew you were far enough, you stopped and curled your body forwards as you threw up on the ground in front of you, groaning as the alcohol tasted much worse on your tongue coming out than it did going in. You were having trouble breathing as this night, that was horrible to begin with, was now bordering on unbearable, as the lewd sounds floated in every corner of your mind, powering the next round of sickness that felt like it was being expelled from deeper within you than just your stomach, from the unsightly parts of your soul. 

He was fucking another girl. You told him no, you told him you wanted to wait, and so he fucked another girl. Was this the first girl? The only girl? The first time? The only time? 

So many questions, so few answers, so little time to think, so much grief to swallow. So much anger, and vindication, so much thirst for revenge, a thirst that you’ve never felt before, that consumed you until there was nothing left but it. You spent so much time feeling horrible about yourself, about what you did. And you didn’t even do the thing you wanted to do, the thing you were desperate to do. But now, there was no hesitation in you anymore as you ran towards the beach that you hoped Neteyam was still on, relief so powerful a drug it cleared your senses and focused them on the man you wanted, that you had to turn away, that you now got to have, that you hoped would claim you, would show you everything Aonung never could. 

He was there. Of course he was. His back was to you, to the forest, and he was looking at the beach, looking at how the waves crashed into the sand, and you couldn’t help take a second to admire him, admire his beauty and poise, admire his strength and character, admire the way he was everything you weren’t, everything you wished you could be. You wanted him to show you, and to teach you, you wanted him to help you see there’s more to this world than what you’ve known, there’s more to this life than what you’ve been confined to feel. And you knew he could, you knew he would. All you had to do was ask. 

“Neteyam. I’m here to beg you to fuck me.” 

three parts it is, besties x

taglist (thank you ily xoxo) : @strawberryclouds22 @yeosxxx @bewbz2110 @loaksbaby @taleiak @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @littlexscarletxwitch

[searenbound]

This is a brothers Grimm inspired retelling of sleeping beauty and my first proper somno and noncon piece so please be gentle with me and give me some constructive feedback so I can improve!.

Warnings: somnophilia, noncon, afab reader with she/her pronouns, vaginal penetration described, oral(reader receiving), delusional/yandere!Todoroki, fantasy au, I feel like it's open-ended but could be left as a standalone one shot

Pairing: prince!Shouto Todoroki x sleeping beauty!reader

Our story begins with a prince who’s grown restless under his father’s strict control.

The prince known as Shouto went on many trips, all of which were under secrecy to avoid the wrath of the mad king Enji. For if he was discovered by his father, he’d surely be severely punished.

Maybe with a beating, or perhaps isolation, or worse his siblings would suffer for his actions.

He couldn’t risk the consequences, that’s what he told himself when had discovered an old castle in ruins.

‘You’ll be late’ he tells him as he examines the thick overgrowth of thorny vines that wrap around the aged and crumbling walls.

‘You need to return’ he reminds himself, cutting through overgrowth and forcing his way into the old palace, ignoring his better judgment in favor of his curiosity.

If he were truly honest, he was hoping to find whatever valuables were left behind so he could keep on the run and never return home. So he may dare to be selfish and not worry about anyone else’s ill fate, if he were honest that is.

Clearly whoever had owned this castle was long gone, old rotting furniture and aged paintings that were caked in thick grime and dirt.

He almost turned back, nothing here could possibly be of worth right? And yet, on some sort of fateful divine intervention, he felt compelled to look around a little longer.

For what, he did not know, he certainly could not have even imagined he would discover the perfectly preserved body of a beautiful young maiden.

She appeared roughly his age when she was put to rest, he thinks it such a shame that she must have passed young.

He steps closer to observe her better, shocked to witness her chest rising and falling. He presses a hand against her soft face, noting the warmth and softness of her skin.

He knows it’s insane, her clothes were dusty and the room around them was clearly aged decades, perhaps centuries, but she is most assuredly alive just asleep.

Certainly, this must be a curse and undoubtedly one he was destined to break. Why else would he be so compelled to go searching for her?

But how?

If the stories of witches and their evil deeds and tricks were to be believed, then a kiss should do. So with this in mind, he leaned down to capture her lips, certain that the spark he felt was a sign from the heavens.

Soon his princesses would awaken and she would be so greatly impressed and grateful that she would marry him without question.

He waits what feels like one, two, three, four whole minutes, and watches in confused frustration when she remains peacefully asleep.

‘Then a kiss is not enough’ he comes to realize ‘I need to do more, I have to show her she was meant to be my wife’. It made perfect sense to him, there was no need to question himself or his motives behind this because why else would a simple kiss not work?

Clearly, he needed to consummate this divine union.

He shuddered at the thought, the reality of the situation hitting him suddenly and making him unsure if this was all a delusion of grandeur.

Maybe he should reevaluate and deal with the creeping sense of disgust in himself, or maybe this deep and sudden desire for her was truly divine?

But this was unquestionably a sinful crime in any other circumstance, something a valiant and righteous prince like himself should never allow themself to indulge in.

But his urge to move forward must be a sign, it’s brought him this far, and he wouldn’t even be here if he had ignored it.

If he did follow his compulsion, the consequences would be well worth the actions right? Just a husband committing to his wife, that’s what this was.

It isn’t wrong for him to lay his hands on her sleeping body, positioning her to aid him in removing her old clothes, and laid his hot lips on the warm flush that was revealed.

Allowing himself to travel every exposed inch until he had her sex in close sight. He laved his tongue over it in curiosity. Humming in approval when he found her to secrete the sweetest nectar he had ever had the pleasure of tasting.

He lapped away at her as if he would never be allowed to again, no, as if he had never been fed. As if he had been starving for longer than he could remember and this would be the only meal he would have in who knew how long.

He found himself greedily pressing his fingers into her little hole, desperately trying to drag out more of her essence. Long slender fingers moving back and forth, dragging against her inner walls and unknowingly inching a dam of sorts closer and closer to snapping.

It almost startled him when she squeaked out a pleasant-sounding moan, practically pouring her heavenly nectar like a fountain for him. Her sex tightening and convulsing around his fingers, he finds himself enraptured by her involuntary response to him; assured he was right to think that this was the correct action.

He resettled himself between her legs so his sex was in line with her sopping wet warmth quickly. He would take his time to know her body properly later but for now, he would focus on introducing his body to her own.

He takes a breath, takes himself in hand, and rests against her entrance. Pausing to steel his nerves before pushing into her with a single thrust. Savoring how her wet warmth parted around him and held so tightly.

‘This couldn’t be wrong when it felt so heavenly’ he thinks, throwing his head back.

He hears a murmur of discomfort from her, he figures he must be her first lover. Good. This doubtlessly meant that the divines had been saving her for him.

She was meant for this, meant to be his love, to be the vessel for his seed.

So, there was no need to hold back on her until she’d taken it all in her womb, right?

He silences her involuntary whines with hot wanton kisses, allowing his tongue to slip into her mouth and explore every bit of it. Uncaring of the lack of response, he has plenty of time to know what her kiss truly felt like once she awakens.

He lets himself indulge in her. Dragging his finger along the little pearl of pleasure that made her leak more of her essence. His hips slapped against her at a rough and quick pace, chasing a pleasure that was well worth the effort.

He wondered, would she accept loving this rough when she did wake? Would she want the way he was being so forceful or would she rather him be gentle and tender? He supposed he could be gentle.

It did sound rather nice, but he would honestly prefer this. He thinks maybe she would too, her sex twitched and spasmed so desperately around him in response to his actions. Almost as if to wring out his love, it’s hard to imagine she wasn’t or wouldn’t enjoy this.

He wondered if she would call his name loudly, he could imagine it clearly based on the sounds she was already making.

‘S-Shou! Oh, Shouto! Please!’ she’d cry out, on the verge of spilling over again and pulling him with her, accepting every drop of his white-hot love inside her.

He barely catches himself from clasping on top of her, he can feel himself starting to stir again inside of her. How must this look to her?

“W-who are you?! W-what are you do—!”.

He cuts her off with a kiss, frowning when she jerks her face away. Didn’t she understand that he was her husband now?!

“Your husband,” he says it calmly, almost coldly as his hips pick up speed again. It would seem he’d have to teach her this new role as his wife.

And this is where we leave, with a king and his queen. One will live happily ever after, the other has no option but to be “happy” with her new life.

Tag list: @when-you-are-just-done @justabratsworld @kkatsukiswife

[misty-thecat]

So, I watched Bridgerton S3 and I have to say although not bad by itself, compared to the previous seasons it's a downgrade.

Some of the biggest writing inconsistencies I noticed for Pen are:

Firstly, in S1, her actions towards Marina (as wrong as they were) could still be understood as her looking out for her friend by not letting him get into a marriage without all the facts. But in this season, she does the exact same thing Marina does, get into an engagement with Colin without revealing her LW identity. This just made her look like a hypocrite.

Secondly, if I remember correctly, in S2 her reasoning for outing Eloise is that the Queen would never believe Pen if she confessed. But in S3 she does exactly that and the Queen not only believes her but also absolves her of all consequences. So, what even was the point of outing Eloise?

Thirdly, Pen's claim that LW tells the truth made me laugh. I don't know why they made her say that. It gave me the ick. She publishes gossip, not truth. It's dangerous to equate the two.

I love Pen as a character. She is flawed, makes mistakes and that makes her interesting. The girlbossification arc with her giving that speech at her sister's ball just did not land for me. Pen struggled with feeling loved and desired, so imo they should have focused on that, instead LW takes the lead and Polin takes a backseat.

The whole Cressida shit show. How am I supposed to not root for her after knowing how she was raised and what circumstances she was facing?

Eloise turning away from her when Cressida needed her the most. That's character assassination of Eloise. It could have been a moment of growth for her. But bad writing strikes again.

Violet and Edmund's first meet parallel with Francesca and Michaela would have been very cute if Michaela had the tongue-tied reaction instead of Fran.

The atrocious costuming! Not asking for accuracy, just maintain the aesthetic established in previous seasons. There's only so far you can stray before it breaks immersion.

It just felt like the show had shifted genres. Previous seasons were romance with a pinch of drama. This season felt like drama with a pinch of romance. I don't know if that makes sense.

I hope Ben's season turns out better.

[dreamcaught]

Fandom has Critically Failed a Media Literacy Check: Thoughts on Ascended Astarion

TLDR: Yes, he's evil. Yes, he's still in love with you.

Okay so now that I know more about both Spawn and Ascended Astarion from personal playthrough experience, I have to say it's really weird to me how much the fandom is pinning them against each other. In all practicality, they're the same fucking person.

Astarion's non-romance specific lines are practically identical. If you're his friend with high approval, he's pretty badass, if a megalomaniac. His self-obsession and self-importance make sense in context, though, and they aren't even that much more pretentious than his earlier expressions of desire for power. It's just that he has the power now. He says he's happy, is excited to be prosperous in his own way, and continues helping you. He's no more cruel than he was before. I can't speak to low-approval lines because my games will always reach "Exceptional" levels of approval for my favourite party members, but I can't imagine them being any different than low-approval spawn lines.

On Love

When romanced, the biggest fandom criticism I'm seeing is this idea that Astarion no longer loves his romantic partner. I have been looking for evidence of this and can't find anything indicating its truth. The closest thing is a post-breakup conversation which, in my opinion, is a huge cop-out. Even still, it does not say anything about his love for you -- only your love for him.

"Of course I understand love. All too well. The greatest crimes committed in this world are committed for love. A hunger crueler than bloodlust. I know how to play with it, and I can't resist playing the hand I know. I would have ruined your love, used your trust until you were nothing. So, for what it's worth, I respect you for making the choice you did. I never knew you had it in you."

I can imagine these lines were written for a very practical reason: They don't want break-ups to affect game-play. An entirely evil Ascended Astarion would just swan the fuck off if his partner left him, and that's not fair to a player who just doesn't want to be in a relationship in-game anymore. This is different than if the character breaks up with the player, because that usually happens because of some sort of cruelty the player chose. Actively trying to kill him, failing to persuade him after showing support for his ascension, or kicking him the balls after agreeing to be his spawn are all actively mean on the player's part. (Or an unfortunate dice roll, but it is - after all - still a game.)

Having Astarion leave the player after he breaks up with you is a consequence of these cruel actions; having Astarion leave after you break up with him is a game-play issue. They can't realistically account for why the player would do so. So they've thought of a realistic reason for Ascended Astarion to stick around: he respects you.

But I also think this speaks to Ascended Astarion's character.

People like to point out the way he says love in this line, as though it is something disgusting - something beneath him. Yes, he probably hates the concept, hates the feeling of it. But: he didn't like it much when he first fell in love with you either, as a spawn.

And he's only felt it once before you broke up with him, so there's that.

Astarion is insecure, even ascended, and if the player speaks for him - tells him he can't love, says he is too cruel, his actions thereby will only justify those concerns. It is a self-fulfilling prophesy, but that is not a result of him not loving you; that's a result of you saying he can't.

Reflect on this: Of course I understand love. All too well. I would have ruined your[s].

He loved you. He loves you, still. He can't say he doesn't, even if he respects your decision to leave him. However, he also feels that love is ruinous. He has become an even darker, more evil creature than he was before, and he believes your connection to him would be destructive. Consider that you have just denied him what he wanted: you. His love for you has hurt him, so he feels that he would hurt you back. He gave his trust to you, and you broke his heart, so he maintains that the same would happen to you: that he would use your trust until you were nothing, like he is. That is Astarion's nature both before and after ascension, but it is not an argument to show that he no longer loves you. That is an argument to show that ascended Astarion is just as lost, insecure and retaliatory as he was when you first met.

On the other hand, if you do not break up with Astarion, there are copious lines which showcase his love and complete devotion to his partner:

"You sweet, sweet thing. I want what's best for you too, of course." (In response to: "I hope you learned to love me," he says,) "What's to say I don't? I'm willing to share all of this with you. What's that if not love?"

(In response to: "I hope we can work things out and stay together," he says,) "Of course we can. You're the one that I want, the one that I love... My dark consort. My right hand. My most beloved spawn."

("So what would I be? A vampire, or your spawn?") "You wouldn't just be some spawn - you're far more than that to me. We could be together for eternity, ruling this world side by side. We could have it all."

("It sounds like you'd have it all.") "I already have everything. Except you by my side."

These lines come from the conversation before choosing to become his spawn or breaking up with him. All of these responses explicitly demonstrate Astarion's love for the player. Now that he achieved his greatest goal to become his strongest self, his desire is to share his success with you. As a vampire, that means to become like him, to become his. In a very real but evil way, he is very obviously asking you to marry him. And he's being very honest about it.

I've seen a lot of arguments about these lines which pretty much come down to: he's lying. But, kindly, fuck off. That isn't an argument; there is absolutely no reason to think he's lying here unless you have already chosen to think he's lying, and that's just another self-fulfilling prophesy.

Astarion being evil does not automatically mean that he's lying. Astarion's voice acting here does not automatically mean that he's lying, either. Yes, he sounds different: he is more self-assured, more powerful, more arrogant - but he's not fundamentally different in his ideals or desires from his spawn self. There is no evidence to support the claim that Astarion is manipulating you or lying about his feelings to - what? Stay with you? Why would he? It is through this very conversation that he allows you to decide for yourself what you want to happen next, so trying to claim he's manipulating or lying to you here is shallow.

And at this point, people will bring up the wisdom check. Look, I have no idea why this check means that Astarion couldn't possibly love you or respect you. In fact, I argue that it's much the opposite: he respects the player so much that he thinks that they're degrading themselves to be with him. He thinks so little of himself that you are lowering your standards, lowering yourself, to be with him:

He will always see you as degrading yourself if you continue to be with him. But perhaps you wish to degrade yourself. And he knows it.

Your choice to become his consort is beneath you - not beneath him. Your wanting to remain at his side is not what you deserve because he thinks you deserve better: but he knows, at this point, that it's what you want anyway.

Dominant/submissive Undertones

"On your knees, darling." A lot of people feel uncomfortable with the new dynamic created when Astarion ascends. His relationship with the player is significantly more defined than it ever is when he's a spawn. This is true throughout a spawn playthrough, as well: it is only at the very end of the game, in the epilogue scene, that spawn Astarion confirms your relationship as fully established. Whereas with ascended Astarion, he considers you his established partner now - his eternal lover and consort.

The Dominant/submissive undertones created by the master/spawn dynamic makes some people argue that ascended Astarion is abusive, for some reason. But - no, it's not. Just - understand that actual abuse is a sensitive topic wherein claiming Astarion's dominant aspects are abusive is actually offensive to both people in D/s (Dominant/submissive) relationships and to survivors of real abuse.

But a few things:

Astarion is evil. Astarion is always evil. Astarion is chaotic evil as a spawn and more lawfully evil ascended. He is cruel with his words, has a twisted sense of pleasure and pain, acts selfishly and relishes in having power. He "has a casual relationship with murder," genuinely dislikes children/the weak, and legitimately does not care about most people. Ultimately, Astarion craves for control - over himself, over his life, and over others. But as Astarion learns in his own story arc: being evil does not mean he cannot love. These things do co-exist, and you are the exception. Your friends are like salads (side-dishes, add-ons, auxiliaries... they don't really count as much as the main course). So yes: he can be mean and he can be cruel - because he is, from the start, fairly evil. But since that's true for both spawn and ascended versions of him, this doesn't matter. You must accept this as part of his character; if you don't, that's on you, not the text.

Being dominant is not fundamentally abusive. There are countless real life examples of D/s relationships which are based on love and respect. These relationships are just as real and just as valid as any other kind of relationship. They are not based on abuse and should not be seen as such.

This relationship, as degrading and submissive as it is, is still based completely on consent. Astarion never forces you into your agreement, whereas he does thank you for it twice: "You have given me everything. Thank you." and "Gods, you're beautiful. And you will be beautiful forever. Thank you, for trusting me." Many people will see the subsequent inability to break up with him as abusive, but I must insist: he is very clear that this pact is eternal. That this is forever. If you break the consent of forever, then that's you being cruel again - not him.

On Possession

Another line he says in this post-breakup scene is this:

"And if we were beholden to each other? Well, how is that too different from being enslaved?"

In my opinion, this line is much more significant than the previous. It speaks to Astarion's tenuous grasp of relationships in general, but also how he views both himself and you when partnered.

Importantly:

"beholden to each other" is not "my ownership of you"

From the beginning of the game, he's using you and he's expecting you to use him. For Astarion, every relationship in his life has thus far been transactional. Every relationship except yours, which is the only one he wants to be real.

If the player breaks up with Astarion, the reality of this relationship is broken. He reflects on it once again as being transactional. He is no longer attached to you romantically, and so he strikes a business deal with you instead.

This devolution of Astarion's understanding of relationships does not happen if you choose to stay with him. He doesn't think of your relationship as transactional at all - in fact, he shows trust, devotion and reciprocation of possession and affection. He considers the relationship to be established and the most authentic one he's ever had.

Ascended Astarion considers his consort his "right hand," "by his side," -- these are just different, fancy ways of saying that you are his equal without saying it outright. He is as beholden to you as you are to him.

Astarion may be more open about his possessive tendencies toward his partner - but saying "my treasure," "my beloved spawn," or any other endearment with the possessive "mine" at the start of it isn't nearly so damaging as some people are claiming it to be. Spawn Astarion's "my love" is really no different. That Astarion is open and vulnerable with these endearments is just showcasing his trust in your shared devotion to each other. Think of it this way: you could very well be calling him something similar right back.

--

If you have not actually played an ascended playthrough - or, heck, if you haven't played the game at all and are making loud opinions about Ascended Astarion as a lying liar incapable of love or of Spawn Astarion being the better choice -- maybe stop. Maybe just enjoy what you like and let others enjoy what they like. Maybe practice some media literacy and note that Astarion is Astarion is Astarion - he's the same character, both beloved and hated by many, with virtues and vices that are compelling and flawed.

The writers have created a rich story. Understand that the story being told is the one being chosen by the player - whichever direction they choose to take it.

[b-o-e]

cookies

Howdy Pillar x Reader

Warnings: tickling aghahbg, howdy uses his many hands for evil lol, kissy kissy fluff yuhhh, I was gonna scrap this fic n don't wanna look at it anymore so it may have mistakes lol

You and Howdy bake a batch of cookies together, and it is quickly learned how impatient you are.

“And there we are!” 

Howdy placed the sheet of cookies on the stove top, shutting the oven. Two hands rested on his hips, the other pair crossed over his chest, puffed with pride.

 “They look perfect!” He grinned. “Surely because of your help, of course!” He hummed, nudging you gently as you ogled the freshly baked treats.

“They smell so good,” is all you could utter. 

You were so tempted just to grab one of the ooey-gooey pastries, despite the fact it would more likely than not immediately fall apart. Howdy could sense this oozing desire.

“Now, don’t go burning yourself. I know that look of temptation in your eye,” 

Your gaze met his, your eyes widened slightly in surprise. You flashed a sheepish smile, slumping.

“They just look so tasty…” you sighed dreamily, eyes returning to your awaiting prize. The two of you had put so much work into making them. Howdy made a great mixer with all those arms! Made for easy cleanup, too!) How could you not want to test a sample?

“They’re not quite ready yet. Just a little longer, bug,” he assured, watching your hands clench in and out of fists with resistance, finding it to be nothing less than amusing. 

“No touching, okay? I’m just going to run these eggs we borrowed back to Sally, then I’ll be right back!” one of Howdy’s hands set on your back as he moved around you to grab the carton. 

“No touch,” he pointed a finger at you, squinting playfully as the others rested on his hips. He repeated, “I’ll be right back. I’m sure they’ll be cooled by then. Just wait for me,”

“Yeah, yeah. Hurry up!” You laughed, pushing him along towards the door. 

With a final promise he would return quickly, Howdy was off, leaving you and the cookies alone. Unsupervised…

And man, it was tempting. It really, truly was. You looked over your shoulder at your foe on the stove, glaring. You’ll be mine soon…

You stole a glimpse at the clock, exhaling dramatically. The two of you had already tidied up your mess while waiting for the timer, so what were you to do now? Admire your wondrous creations from afar?

Unable to come up with anything else, that’s quite precisely what you did. 

Your elbows rested on the countertop, chin on top of your hands. The sweet aroma wafted through the house, a gentle breeze flowing in from the open window.

Tick, tock, tick, tock 

The steady click of the clock made time feel like it was moving extra slow. Each second dragged on for what felt like an eternity. Huh. You had less self control than you thought…

Your fingers drummed against the counter. Your toes tapped against the floor. Your eyes darted between the cookies and clock again. Come on, Howdy, what was taking so long?

Another hefty sigh escaped you. A look at the clock, a look at the cookies. Just one couldn’t hurt, right? It was Howdy’s fault you were waiting an eternity!

Despite the slight pit of guilt in your belly, you reached toward the sheet, knowing the satisfaction of the cookie would fill that pit right up. Finally, it was yours!

A hand grasped your wrist, an arm looping your waist.

“Ah-ah-ah,” 

 Whelp, spoke too soon. You tried!

“What do you think you’re doing, you little stink bug?” Howdy hummed, amusement dripping from his tone as he turned you around to face him. Ah. Trapped between him and the counter. Not a good place to be for what you reckoned the consequences to your actions would be

“Come on!” You drew out, giving a pleading pout. “You were taking so long!” 

Please let you be spared, please let you be spared… it didn’t look too promising with the quirk of his brow and smirk he wore.

“I was barely gone five minutes!” He cackled with mirth. “And you know how I feel about thieves,” 

That smirk seemed much more threatening all of a sudden.

“No.” You eyed him warily, knowing exactly what was to come. “Don’t you dare,”

“I think you deserve some form of punishment,” he shrugged with a grin. His upper set of hands had taken yours into his grasp…

“Howdy…” You attempted to reason. “Please!”

No chance.

His fingers glided along your sides, digging into the carefully. You laughed and squirmed, begging for him to stop.

“You need to learn your lesson somehow!” He chuckled, pausing his attack to give you a chance to own up to your actions. “Will you try to defy me again?”

You only giggled, body twisting away with what you knew would come after your response. 

“You’re asking for quite a lot there, mister…” You really weren't doing yourself any favours, were you?

His fingers returned to their attack, poking and jutting into your sides.

“Okay, okay, okay! I yield!” You cackled, the pitch to your voice fluctuating. To your pleas, Howdy paused.

“Have you learned?” He eyed you warily.

“Yes,” you panted out with a grin. “Yes, I have learned.”

“Well, I think you owe me an apology,” he said, “some compensation, you know?” He smiled innocently, earning a roll of your eyes. His hands had found your waist, the two that had trapped your hands trailing to rest on your sides.

“Yeah, yeah. Close your eyes, there, big guy,” you played along, a hand cupping his face. Once his eyes were closed, though, you made your move.

Your free hand snuck to the stove top, snatching up a treat.

“Mm,” you hummed in delight as you took a bite, 

“Why, you deceiving little–”

“Have a taste!” you grinned, pulling him in for the smooch you knew he desired. It took him by surprise, but he was not opposed. 

When you pulled away, you snickered softly at the shock on his features.

“We did pretty good, right?” You flashed an innocent smile, taking another bite.

“I’ll forgive you this time,” he grumbled, cheeks pink and a playful glare on his face. “But you’re a little scoundrel sometimes, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.”

howdy!! I hope you liked this lil oneshot B) this is just something to fill in some space so I can hopefully have some more time to try to get ahead again on wally stuff. I was going to scrap this fic, its been in my docs for like a week and a half or two, n I'm not the biggest fan, but maybe I've looked at it for too long. I'm not sure if I'll write for howdy again, this may be all I've got in me for him, but I hope you enjoyed it B) here is a link to my silly lil wally fics in their recommended order if you would like :) these can also be found on my ao3 B) I also have a ko-fi if you'd like to support me!

likes and reblogs are extremely appreciated!! DOPAMINE!!! RAGGGHHH!!

Posted Thursday, May 4, 2023, at 12:06 PM

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

Masterlist

"Masterlist? What is that?"

"it's mostly a record of the writings here, feel welcome to have a look and see if something catches your eye" she turns around and points to the the book detailing where every book or pages should

"last time I updated it was june 21, so it can get a bit behind but usually everything is in here"

"a magical land where people are able to handle elements as they please, a bit too fantastical for my liking but she seems to enjoy writing them"

Tokyo debunker

There is a separate section for this subject, best visit it for the list.

Genshin impact

There is a folder on the table and named with perfect cursive handwriting "Holy offsprings". It seems it's a collection of small works

A bouquet of feelings

Sometimes actions have unexpected consequences. Good thing Aether knows how to fix this one.

Ancient language au

A long forgotten tongue slips away from their lips to the ears of people who believe it's their god's language

Read my lips

"to suddenly be left in a world where I couldn't read anything... Such a torture"

Universal language

After alhaitham found your ability you were almost forced to work for the academia translating works, some misunderstandings arise

Great sage au

A foreign face settles as a country's sage and tries to help, even when it isn't all that easy

Prologue

As a former player the new great sage had a nice base of knowledge to stand on plus some new tools

Such a backstabber

His duty with sumeru has gotten him into a trail leading to you and believes you to be a danger. For some reason the proof he has reminds you of something… wait a minute.

Over tea

Luckily after cyno recognized them as not guilty they were allowed to return to their position and enjoy their new found love for tea. Seemingly the nation's calmness has lead to people allowing themselves to fantasize about their bosses’ love life

Everything feels so beautiful

"this one fits in the timeline but I'm not sure if even the writer knows how or when..."

Secret husband timeline

Be it because of secretiveness or nobody believing it was possible nobody found out about your marriage with the iudex until someone says it straight up. Oops

The first two are two different beginnings

How the iudex sleeps

"why did she choose for him to have a resemblance with otters? Even then it's a really sweet domestic piece"

Melusines say the darndest things

sometimes children can slip up and accidentally say more than desired. In this case the journalists are very happy about that.

Drabbles

Would they peel an orange for you?

"mhmm... I wonder why she chose oranges, I think she likes better pomegranate. Wouldn't it be more fitting 'would they open a pomegranate for you?' but I guess at the end it's the same intention"

Do they know if you wear silver or gold?

"I only ever wear this uniform, I'm not really sure how important that kind of stuff is"

Types of baby daddy

"my father has been a 'baby daddy' many times, including my and my sisters' conception and many of our half siblings. Despicable man. He even runs as fast as the thunders he throws so he is hard to catch"

Your ex in my body or me in their body

"seemingly this question is used to pick a fight with your lover, I'm not sure why would you, though"

Ideas

"some blurbs or unrefined concepts, maybe in the future they can become something more polished"

Npc sagau

"suddenly strangers and your loved ones start acting as mindless zombies and only certain people seem to wake up but you are unable to know when... It sounds stressful doesn't it?"

Living together (npc sagau)

Obey me

"it would make sense for them to live close by the only people you can speak with"

"It's a kind of undefined academic environment in hell? I heard from other visitors that highschool and university are difficult and sometimes unenjoyable but isn't this a bit too on the nose? Either way seemingly she could romance demons, angels and a... Regular human? I'm sure she did not... My goodness"

Night bringer saga

All this happen during night bringer but aren't particularly connected or in a particular timeline!

Love language: acts of service

After being temporarily transformed into a demon you find that there are some gaps in your knowledge of demon features care but Solomon is very happy to help

With the firstborn's ring I made you mine

A before bed chat with Solomon leads to you showing some concerns about wearing the ring of light so openly and he offers himself as a scapegoat

Love language, gift giving

He is old enough and famous enough that he can spend some money on superfluous gift and extra candies as long as you smile at him

The sorcerer's demonic firstborn

Nobody is exempt from Mother nature's cruel whims, not even the all powerful sorcerer that defied death. Some friends of yours help you with your dream

Twisted wonderland

"another fantasy setting that happens in a world where people can use Magic and a school? I'm seeing a pattern with her likings. Just tell me she wrote for a prince or a future king or- it's just a guy with white hair again? No just because he is sleepy doesn't make him different, writer..."

Forced fairytale

The tale of the sleeping beauty is one he holds dear, be it because it's related to his great grandmother or his dorm, malleus can't help but feel like silver and the prefect would be such a perfect modern retelling.

[pr-incey]

For a while—after being exposed to the antiship movement, because goodness knows I didn't care about this when I was younger—I wondered *why* fiction and reality were so different in my head. Why I could happily see things depicted in fiction that would make me sick to my stomach or upset me to tears just from thinking of it happening in real life. I couldn't come up with a reason for this for a while, which caused me distressed and made me worried that I might secretly be a terrible person after all.

But I've done some thinking and I've figured it out. Or, rather, I've returned to the mindset that came so easy to me in the past and probably did to a lot of people before the well was poisoned.

When I see a fictional character, I don't see a person. I don't see a person like *me*, anyway. I see a person within that piece of fiction's universe; a plane of existence that is wholly different from my own. Lines and colour, words on a page, virtual drawings being played sequentially at a speed that simulates movement. Sure, the written passage, 'He had eyes, ears and a mouth' is a representation of what *I* am, and what other people around me are, but it is fundamentally a plane of existence that is *alien* to me.

An alien is something that is decidedly not human. I feel empathy for other humans because I can relate to them. I have no desire to hurt them because I either know what it is like to be hurt in that way, or I can imagine what it would be like. I know the harm it would do to them, which illicits a reaction of disgust and apprehension in me. 'That's terrible,' I think, which simply kills any desire to cause any harm to a real person or do any disgusting actions.

This is why predators are such terrible people. They are fully aware of the harm their actions will cause and then go ahead with them anyway.

But with a fictional character, it's different in these ways:

1. First of all, we have to remember that they AREN'T human and so whatever I feel towards them cannot accurately mirror whatever I feel towards real flesh and blood individuals. They're projections of humanity from OTHER people in whatever medium they choose, but fictional characters are—and I cannot stress this enough—NOT HUMAN. If I pull off the head of a Barbie doll, does that mean I have the desire to behead someone in real life? Does it mean that I MUST have the urge to behead someone in real life, because a barbie doll is a 'representation' of a person? Your answer, I'm hoping, is no. Because Barbie is not human.

2. And because fictional characters are not human, I don't have empathy for them. Not REAL empathy, anyway, the type that stops the desire to cause harm. When I 'violate' a fictional character, it illicits at most only superficial disgust because I know that character will not live with the lasting consequences of my actions. They're a projection, a facsimile.

So that might bring you to another question, 'Even if they're not real, why would you WANT to do that to them, anyway?'

That I can't answer. The human brain is weird. Sometimes, people have dark urges. If a kid tosses their Barbie onto the ground and seems to take pleasure in it falling, can that accurately say they want to push a real person onto the ground? If someone seems to enjoy a violent video game like GTA where they can run people over and shoot them to their heart's content, is that a surefire way to know that they want to do those things to real people? I wouldn't say it is. Would you?

The final thing to remember is that it's not completely black and white. A serial killer might have been 'inspired' by a violent horror story, whereas the actual author of that story is a nice, well-adjusted individual. People with the desire to hurt actual humans might make do with projections, but it does not change the fact that they actually want to HARM people. The fiction didn't make them want to do that. They already did, and probably would have even if they didn't discover said fiction. And horrible people CAN make their own 'projections'.

Generally though I believe it is obvious when someone is just playing with dolls, and when someone is exhibiting an actual desire to hurt somebody.

[theresattrpgforthat]

do you have any metafictional ttrpgs? or any ttrpgs about nothing (being about the concept of nothing or literally not having something they're "about")?

Theme: Metafictional TTRPGS / Games About Nothing.

Y’all are really pulling out the stops for these requests, huh? I’m not entirely sure if what I pulled up actually counts as metafiction, or as games about nothing, but I hope you find something close to what you’re looking for here.

Feedback, by Adira Slattery.

This is a drawing and survey taking game.

You will be expected to draw some chairs.

You will be expected to take some surveys

.Requires the use of a printer for the surveys.

And at the end you gotta email me.

So good luck...

This is a game about drawing a chair. And then taking a survey. And then drawing a chair. And taking a survey. And so on. It’s an exercise that’s meant to be both repetitive and reflective. It’s hard for me to determine what this game is about, because a) I haven’t played it and b) I suspect it’s going to mean something a little different for each person who plays it. It’s possible that for some people who look at this game, it might be about nothing.

Undeath of the Author, by quinntastic.

A meta mini-game designed for Troika.

This is a game in which the author is both dead and not dead - they are undead, and it is up to the group to kill them. The author is the author of the game, and the group is responsible for figuring out how to go about and kill them. (Of course, the author is willing to tell you, the GM how they can be killed, but they don’t want you to tell the players. You can keep a secret, right?)

Beach Episode, by Legendary Vermin.

BEACH EPISODE is a microgame mix-in for your regular table-top RPG group. Players take  their current characters, quickly adapt them for a rules-light session, and commence to run an anime-inspired, beach-themed adventure. All you need to play is at least 3d6 and an established set of characters.

This is a game that is about nothing in the sense that it isn’t really about anything. It follows the style of the anime beach episode, asking you to take recognized characters, probably from an ongoing campaign, and giving them a moment of rest, relaxation, and (probably) nothing plot-relevant. It’s great for encouraging players to delve into who their characters are without feeling worried about the consequences.

Meta Society, by Small Stories.

Meta Society is a game about playing a game of Good Society created for the April Fool's Day Good Society game jam.

This is a game about playing a game - specifically a game of Good Society. When you play, you’ll describe fictional players interacting with a fictional setting, using safety tools and talking about what they did and didn’t like about each session. This requires a copy (as well as experienced knowledge) of how to play Good Society, but I think if you have had the experience of playing Good Society, this might also be something you could adapt to make it a metafictional game about playing a different ttrpg.

DIE: The Roleplaying Game, by Rowan, Rook & Decard.

You’re dragged into a treacherous fantasy world made from your own fears, doubts and desires. There’s only one way to escape - but with limitless adventure within your grasp, would you even want to?

In DIE: The Roleplaying Game, you play a group of authentically flawed people from the real world who gather together to play a game and are trapped in a magical realm. What are they prepared to sacrifice to escape? What are they prepared to sacrifice to stay? This is a TTRPG inspired by a comic book, about people who play games, finding themselves being drawn into a game. Your characters will be interacting with a fantasy world of their own creation, knowing that it is a game and yet being drawn into it deeper than they could have ever imagined. If you want to hear this game in action, My First Dungeon has an excellent season from Mar. 31 - May 26 of 2023.

The Waiting, by J.N. Butler.

A one page GM-less roleplaying game of suspense for 1 or more players.

The Waiting is inspired by the anxiety caused by waiting for the unknown.

In The Waiting you play as a character in a setting where it hasn’t happened yet. It is definitely going to happen, but no one knows when it will happen. Until it happens, there is only The Waiting.

What are you waiting for?

This feels like a game that could be about nothing because the thing that is going to happen will not happen while you play the game. The game is specifically about the time in which the thing has not yet happened - you just know that it will. The game occurs as a series of rounds, over which players describe what their characters are doing. When the event that the table creates happens, you have one final round of play and then the game is over.

This might also be a great tool for dropping into another game, if you’re like me and you like pairing your TTRPGs like cheeses and fine wines.

[crispycreambacon]

You fill your head with thoughts you find you can't even feel

Try to make room in your skull, but it’s full of them

All of the things that you think and then think about thinking

I know it’s hard, but they're not who you are

They're white noise

— White Noise, Will Wood —

Welcome one and all to "Mashing Two Interests Like Playdough", the first episode is Puppet History x Will Wood, specifically the Substitute x White Noise 'cause holy moly. It fits him so well. Omg.

I had so much fun creating this poster! I'm really proud of how the poses and the rendering turned out even though both gave me a rough time at first </3 I actually had an earlier version of this poster, but I scrapped it because it wasn't doing it for me ngl :,D I'm glad I did though!

Anyways if you'd like to know more about why I think this song fits the Substitute, you can read my interpretation of the lyrics and how they can relate to him below the "Read More" button. You can also find the glitchless + filterless version of the poster there.

Note: A lot of this is speculation on my part, and you don't need to conform to this reading. This is just how I perceive him.

They paint the walls with colors that you're not meant to notice

They fill the halls with tunes you can't get into your head

Let's establish the obvious: The Substitute can't feel. The extent of his unfeelingness is unknown, but what is known is that he can't taste and can't have the sensation of touch. This may lead to him being isolated due to his inability to relate to experiences both humans and his fellow puppets seem to have, particularly the experiences of the one he is based on.

Yeah, it sorta sounds like a retro top-40 but wrong

You're not meant to sing along

It isn't that kind of song

It's white noise

Despite his unfeelingness, he still wants to have the experiences others have. After all, he literally almost killed someone just to have that chance, but his plan is not entirely well-thoughout. How was he going to dispose Ryan's body without getting caught? How was he going to sew the skin onto himself and dispose the rest of it? What was he going to do after he finally what he asked for?

In a way, he was doomed to fail. He was never meant to gain sentience anyway, let alone have the desire to feel like his counterpart. His existence is a complete accident. Now he has to deal with the consequences of actions he never even had a hand in doing.

But if you listen closely I swear, to God I swear

You can hear the ocean if you hold it up to your ear

This lyric directly inspired the pose of the Substitute listening to the conch shell. He has memories of some of the most wonderful sensations on Earth yet he can't connect with any of them. Perhaps when no one was looking, he tries to recreate some of them in a desperate attempt to find a scrap of semblance of feeling and gets increasingly frustrated with his inability to understand them.

Is it any wonder that he would do anything to regain that scrap of enjoyment? To end his torturous experience by any means necessary?

Its personality's a lack of identity

The entire second verse in general speaks about the meaningless of art and how people try to give it meaning anyway. The Substitute's only purpose was to replace the Professor either to console a dead mass or to continue the show. Now that the Professor is back... What can he do?

Moreover, he's also never allowed to have an identity of his own. Since he's meant to be a perfect copy of someone else, especially someone who's presumed to be dead, he can never really deviate from that role because it would break the illusion the puppets created to cope with their grief. No matter what his desires are, he can never really explore any of them because no one is allowing him to do so.

Also, the way the orchestra swells during this part kinda calls back to theatrical music for me. I feel like the Substitute would enjoy performace arts. His bombastic musical number implies he had a flair for the dramatics, and despite his lack of feeling, his expression of his ambitions is quite dramatic.

You fill your head with thoughts you find you can't even feel

This can relate to how the Subtitute is forced to relive the memories of the Professor despite not being able to experience the emotions connected with them. In a way, he has to so that he could remind himself of his motivations. Remembering the joy the Professor got through feeling would keep him going on this path in the hopes that some day, he could feel that joy too.

I know it's hard

But they're not who you are

They're white noise

This line can be taken in two ways. One is based on the speculated official meaning of the outro which is centered on intrusive thoughts. No doubt the Substitute deals with homicidal thoughts, but I wonder if he truly believes in them. Does he genuinely enjoy indulge in them, or does he act on them because it's all that he knows? For all the talk about him having the Professor's memories, at the end of the day, he was crudely coded for one simple purpose. His thoughts are very simplistic—as seen with how quickly he jumps to murder as the most logical solution for his problem—and I wonder if he was given a chance to grow beyond his purpose, he could've reliazed that homocide was not the right course of action.

The other way, which is likely more relevant, relates back to the Substitute being intrinsically tied to the Professor. His thoughts, his memories and his actions are all in a way influenced by the Professor. But it didn't have to be this way. As unlikely as it is, he could've had a life where he discovered his own interests and his own personality outside of being "the evil Professor". If he had gotten to learn more about the world on his own, if he had been able to act not as the Professor but as himself, he would've been able to develop more and find that joy he was missing. He could've had a life.

Unfortunately, he was never given that chance, and it is unlikely that he ever will be.