#and as I said it wouldn't have been necessarily bad in itself

[xo2dee]

ᴊᴜᴊᴜᴛꜱᴜ ᴋᴀɪꜱᴇɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

ʟᴀᴍʙᴇɴᴛ

⛧ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sukuna x (Fem)Reader

⛧ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: true form!sukuna, pregnant!reader, heian era customs, pregnancy, mentions of cannibalism, sukuna being an asshole (what do you expect)

⛧ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3767

⛧ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Carrying the King's of Curses child, you knew wouldn't be easy, but you were more than happy to have a baby of your own. Even if said baby was growing rapidly while being the source of your bad back and changing appetite.

⛧ᴀ/ɴ: sukuna fluff is hard to come by in my opinion and so sorry if he's ooc but i wanted him like this. also, this is for lemon and ava, two of my favorite sukuna babes 🤍

⛧twitter - ao3

Wrist flicking out, you fanned yourself, eyes heavy with the sleep you had been fighting as you pursed your lips and eyed the blooming trees of the garden. Spring was rounding itself off, the scorching weather approaching you knew in weeks as you could only prepare yourself to be practically bedridden due to your ‘condition’. You’d only arrived a year and a half prior, and you quickly realized you had not seen much of the palace still after taking a husband, be it due to the duties of a noble person who were bound to spend most their days inside and entertaining themselves another way.

You held back a snort, fanning yourself harder as you stopped and eyed a nearby bush full of bright fruit and as red as your husband’s eyes.

…Husband.

In your youth, you supposed the daydreams of living in nobility were only achievable through luck. Or perhaps told through a fortune told from the Omikuji you required as a teen, taking the fortunes of ‘blessing’ and ‘marriage’ with a grain of salt until you had grown into an adult and ran off to be elsewhere from the clutches on an arranged marriage. Into serving nobility, to becoming nobility wasn’t necessarily on your list, your marriage by all means was an unlawful one. Forged from blood and flesh when you remembered instead of sipping sake in front of the Gods, your husband-to-be curled his fingers around your wrist and bit into your palm to instead partake in you.

You had been enamored by him since you first met him, eyes memorizing every inch of his unusual face before taking his thumb into your mouth when he smeared his own blood across your lips. It had sealed your fate that moment, your love and lust for him bursting forth like a raging inferno then and during the commutation of your marriage. Something that had finally taken into effect and was weighing down on you heavily.

One you supposed was the reason for the wariness when it came to serving you.

Cutting your eyes to the side and slightly behind you, you held the sigh in, your attendant keeping her eyes on the ground (perhaps watching your feet when you walked) as to shield her pensive expression from you, however you were not the unobservant type and focused on the knot between her eyebrows. Mai, your first and most loyal attendant, was never one to shy away from pestering over you, speaking her mind and filling in for advice whenever you needed it, so to see her quiet and on edge grated your nerves more than you liked to admit. She had been your first friend when you arrived, and you absolutely despised when she reverted back into the meek and submissive attendant she played whenever your husband was around, and it was enough to make you frown and worry if you had done something wrong.

You sighed loudly, snapping your fan shut and turning to the woman slowly, “You look like you have something you want to say.”

Mai’s eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks, long and curled as her doe-like eyes rose to meet yours. She seemed to mull over your statement, before bowing her head in submission and speaking quietly, “Permission to speak?”

A smile graced your lips, softening your expression and nodding to her in return, “You always have permission with me, Mai.”

And just like that, Mai’s entire attitude flipped at your nonchalance. Straightening herself up, she dropped the service act and eyed you with suspicion and wary, mixed in with tired disappointment at having to cater to your more… reckless wants. “It’s just that Lord Sukuna has told us to monitor you and keep you in the palace when he’s away. And you’ve disobeyed that… again.”

Ah, there it was. With a scowl threatening to mar your face, you turned your back to her and began to pick through the strawberries in the bush you had been eyeing before, “I’m in the gardens. That’s still the palace… Is it not?”

“Yes, but –”

“This one looks ripe…” you cut her off, not necessarily wanting to hear her prattle on about how your husband made it horrifyingly clearly that you were to say inside at all times when he wasn’t at the palace. You’d heard it all before so many times it had been practically engraved into your skull with ink, and you were fed up with sitting on your knees inside away from the outside world and learning calligraphy constantly. Lips downturned you plopped a good-looking strawberry into your mouth, humming at the juice and tangy sweetness that exploded upon your taste buds, before your stomach gave an abrupt twist and a foot kicked out against your ribs. You winced and rubbed at your belly while the fruit suddenly tasted foul, and you swallowed with a grimace, “I hate how hungry I get nowadays, especially when I seem to crave more than just human food.”

Mai had been watching you like a hawk, leaning forward to intercept you whenever you reached for another fruit, “Oh, let me get it for you –”

“Please, Mai, I can pick my own strawberries. You worry too much.” Batting her hand away, you plucked it, hiding it in your sleeve and turning to her with an exhausted smile as she took your fan from you.

“Yes, My Lady. But please consider my words, we can keep you entertained in the palace.” You watched the lines on her face carefully, creased at her eyes and wrinkles forming at her forehead, and you could only wonder if your pregnancy had been the cause of her newly formed stress (partly, you knew you could’ve blamed it on your husband, his aggressive and aloof behavior all in one keeping most of the servants on the tips of their toes, but you quickly squashed it whenever you remembered she tended to you entirely).

Of course, you knew she was only doing her job, however her job was also giving you a severe case of claustrophobia being cooped up inside all the time. It wasn’t like you were planning to ever leave the palace’s premises either, just small strolls in the garden or spending time by the pond to cool off. Honestly, you had reason to believe she and your husband were just worrywarts (yet for the latter, you would keep that strictly to yourself).

You nodded your head in the direction you wanted to go, signaling Mai to walk beside you as you sighed and lowered your voice, “The midwife told me exercise will help…” you caressed your palm over your protruding stomach, “The baby is already huge and only seems to keep growing. A little sun helps me too, Mai… I can’t stay cooped up forever.”

Mai took a few moments to respond, her shoulders relaxing and her voice regaining familiarity, “I’m only worried since the last time you fainted out here.”

Lips thinning outwards, you remembered it all too well. Not necessarily fainting, though you blamed it on the many layers you wore around the palace and how warm it was getting outside, but you remembered the aftermath and how your husband had all but slaughtered a few lowly servants in retaliation as to letting you out (and because of his temper). You had thought the gore would’ve had you running, but you’d grown so used to him murdering someone whenever they slightly pissed him off you could only sigh at the thoughts. Of course, you knew Mai’s worry also came out of fear, however you weren’t about to let him do anything to her. “I know, but I feel fine… Just swollen feet and my back aching every time I move.”

And the baby kicking at your body whenever something displeased him.

Mai sighed your name exasperatingly, dropping the formalities, “Please, given your condition I think it’s best if you return to the palace.”

Irritation began to seep in your muscles, your baby moving in response to your emotions as your feet marched faster to walk. If you wanted to walk around the garden, you were allowed to, you would deal with your husband later if he found out. “What my husband doesn’t know won’t hurt him… Just another stroll and we can go back in, I’m getting tired anyways.”

“My Lady – oh!”

Mai abruptly skidded to a halt, body bending quickly into a low enough bow for the towering sight of your husband appearing before you both. You spared her a quick glance, flickering back to your husband, Lord Sukuna, when you realized he wasn’t the least bit concerned over her. He kept all four eyes on you, a challenging glare in them and you nearly wanted to laugh at the sight of two of his arms crossed and the other two planted on his hips. He looked every part of a disappointed husband – a father in the making, and you could already feel the talking your ear was going to get. Ah well, you could always feign falling asleep on him, that seemed to always make him softer.

Bending slightly into your own bow, he spoke, addressing Mai with a singular command, “Leave,” and you only returned back to your own height whenever you peeked that she was gone. You held back the groan at the pull your spine gave, wincing slightly at the shine of the sun before his large form eclipsed it as he finally moved close to you with no one in sight. The familiarity of his warmth and scent eased some of your irritability, wondering why he was back to early and ecstatic that he came to look for you once he couldn’t find you.

You smiled up at him, rolling the strawberry around your fingers before gesturing with your head to the path you had been walking, “Walk with me?”

Sukuna was ever-so unwavering in his staring, watching you practically dawdle in your place with the world’s most unamused expression, “Weren’t you told to stay inside?”

You repressed a shudder at his rough voice as your skin prickled, another sigh leaving while your shoulders slumped; caught. “I might remember you telling me that.” He seemed to not be in the mood for your sweettalking.

A loud exhale made your smile turn sheepish. “You piss me off.”

You knew that was coming, pulling out your hand from the sleeve to produce the strawberry from before, letting his eyes follow the way you rolled it into your palm, “But you’re here now… Nothing could really happen now since I have you.”

Sukuna’s eyebrow furrowed, eyes narrowing inward before he scowled at you enough to let his upper lip slightly curve over his teeth, “Changing the subject won’t help you. Are you gonna walk back, or do I have to carry your ass and –"

In a bold move you silenced him, pressing the strawberry to his lips with two fingers and slightly pushing it forward in hopes he would eat it. His eyes couldn’t narrow or glare any further, shooting from you to the fruit, and holding them there for a few moments and you wanted to giggle because it nearly looked like he pouting. Your husband never really ate human food, perhaps to humor you before he would spit it out and complain about the horrid taste it gave him, however there were a few times his interest would peak and want a bite of whatever you had in your hand – especially when said food seemed to satisfy you so much. You supposed it was his curiosity to understand you better, having a human in such close quarters and as a wife was perhaps as jarring as it was to have him as your husband.

Toying with him, you said, “It gave me bad taste earlier… Want to try it?”

Sukuna’s lips twitched behind the fruit, a clear sign he’d indulge you that time and when you went to move your hand away from him, one of his hand snatched your wrist with a small squeeze. An unspoken word for you to leave your fingers on the fruit and indulge him. And you did so with coquettish blink, pressing the strawberry harder against his lips until they gave way and his teeth were biting into it with the juice from inside sliding down your fingers as he slowly and sensually ate the strawberry from your fingertips. It didn’t help that he kept his eyes on your own the whole time, your cheeks burning as you never were able to get used to your husband’s forward assertion on sensuality.

Your breath caught and eyes widened when his tongue slid over the length of your fingers before slipping in his mouth and sucking on them until they were free of any residue stickiness. You couldn’t help the rapid beat of your heart, lips parting as his thumb tapped in rhythm to your pulse point before he let go of your fingers with a loud ‘plop!’ and a satisfied hum rumbling out of him as you could only gaze dumbfounded at the saliva coating your fingers. After a few moments you cleared your throat and swallowed, eyeing him warily as you knew his stomach probably wouldn’t last long and he’d be hacking it up with loud complaining.

And on cue, you watched fascinated as the mouth on his stomach frowned.

Oh, here it comes. It never lasted long in his system.

You sighed as he spat it out, licking his lips and scowling at the ground, “You’re right, tastes like shit.”

“Would you like me to say something to the servants?” you asked, mentally cheering with a soft smile on your face when he fell into step with you to walk along the gardens. It was never hard to get what you wanted out of him.

“It’s not poor gardening skills, it’s you.” You opened your mouth, ready to backtalk at the insult, yet he silenced you with a hand raised before one of his fingers traced along your cheek, “Weren’t you waddling in and practically whining for some of my food?”

How could you forget, a week ago you’d been lured out of your bed chamber by the most mouthwatering smell and your baby kicking incessantly once your stomach growled. You had stumbled upon Sukuna and Uruame, the latter making Sukuna’s dinner and the dinner something you never were to partake in since his appetite did not quell your hunger. However, when you found yourself salivating with your stomach rumbling and your baby kicking, it was a jarring experience to come to realize you were indulging in cannibalism and liked it. Liked it so much your child never rolled in a fit that night and Sukuna had been extra attentive to you afterwards with his praising.

An answer was on your tongue, though you chose to neglect saying anything when your taste buds twitched at the thought of that dinner and instead enjoyed your walk in peace. Your husband only snorted, a slight laugh leaving him at your pout before he returned his limbs to himself and rolled his gaze forwards on the path you’d been on. Times with him were normally relaxing as he was actually rather lazy when he had nothing to do, his affections ranging from just enjoying your presence in silence to twirling your hair around his finger whenever you were close enough. You never minded, glad to spend time with him though it was equally as nice whenever he seemed get even clingier once finding out you were pregnant.

Even his soft, lingering touches moments ago set your heart ablaze, and you wondered if he felt the same whenever you ran your fingers through his hair whenever he felt like resting his head in your lap.

Minutes into your relaxing walk you felt it, an agonizing cramp pulsing in your back and the soles of your feet screaming in protest at being mobile for too long. Of course, you get some time to do something with him and your body halts that and screams at you to stop. You didn’t want to say anything, not wanting to bother him nor ruin the peaceful moment you were so grateful to have. Although the pain in your body had other plans, cramping upwards and throbbing whenever you tried to take another step so much you immediately had to double over with one hand resting on your stomach.

You stopped, the other hand moving to hold your aching back, and you were vaguely surprised he stopped at the same time. A wince and awkward bouts of silence later, you groaned and straightened back up, “I’m sorry, I think it gets worse every day.”

Sukuna remained silent and still, before a rumbling from his chest prickled the hair on the nape of your neck. “Hm, almost like you should’ve listened to me.” He was back in that disappointed husband stance, and you knew if you were to look into his face you’d see the smug grin at your misfortune. Gritting your teeth you didn’t give him the satisfaction, watching glumly as he sighed rather loudly and moved away from your side to continue walking in the direction of this palace.

You reaped what you sowed you supposed, having to walk back alone after being told not to be out of the palace when he wasn’t there. And your body complaints for moving about too much agreed, a quiet moan of frustration leaving you as you closed your eyes and counted to ten to calm your nerves, reopening them when the pain muted itself into a dull ache for the time. However, you completely clammed up at the sight of your husband bent down in front of you, the black of his haori draped over his shoulders shielding your view of his sculpted back and his face turned forward giving you no indication of what he was doing.

Yet, he did seem like he said something, though you were too befuddled to even understand what he had said.  

“What –”

“Are you deaf?” he interrupted, turning his head slightly and motioning with his head from you to climb onto him, “I said get on, before I change my mind.”

He wanted you… to ride… on his back? Never once did he ever engage in something like that with you (besides carrying you in his arms, but that had been the night of your wedding and he’d practically tossed you on your beds afterwards), though you weren’t about to pass by the chance for him to carry you. Though you weren’t too sure how to climb on his back and hold on so heavily pregnant, Sukuna didn’t have four arms for nothing you supposed.

Not wanting him to change his mind and keep him waiting, you clambered onto him to best you could dressed in several layers with your legs kicking free to slip underneath the lower set of his arms. You held back a squeal when your baby kicked at all the movements, arms flying forward to nearly constrict Sukuna’s airway off as he in return grunted and stood to his full height while beginning to move forward in a slow pace. You were grateful he was taking it slow, still trying to get comfortable and trying not to think about how bad it would hurt to fall off his back from his enormous height…

“Stop fucking squirming…” he grunted again, readjusting you with his arms as your body reclined higher up on his back and he continued walking, “Acting like I’ve never touched you before.”

“It’s not that. He – “ you cut yourself off, you hadn’t necessarily told him that you believed your baby was a boy, and you didn’t want to hear any of his teasing, “the baby kicks and squirms whenever I move too much.” Or whenever he hears your voice, you groused, further proving your point when he kicked at you again whenever Sukuna spoke once more. You wondered if he could feel the kick on his back.

“Damn.” A pause of silence and Sukuna was jostling you on his back, “How much does that prick weigh? Or is that all you?”

Your hand itched to slap the back of his neck, though you held yourself together and only offered him a scoff while making yourself comfortable, “He takes after his father.”

“And he wiggles like a worm, just like his mother.”

You had half a mind to say something about him referring to your child as a boy, your cheeks hot when you rested your chin atop his shoulder and eyes growing lidded with sleep while he inadvertently rocked you with his steps. You bit the inside of your cheek in a girlish thought that your husband was walking slower on purpose, rolling your ankles to stop you from kicking your feet at the idea he wanted to spend more time with you alone. Then again, he was doing all of it for you when he could’ve just left you alone, or not come out to find you at all.

Maybe some days he missed you as much as you missed him.

In a bold declaration, you pushed yourself forward until your nose was skimming Sukuna’s cheek, a chaste kissed you placed there seconds later whenever he didn’t say or do anything to push you away, “Thank you, my Lord.”

Sukuna hummed low in his throat, a deep rumbling that vibrated against your arms and soothed your aching ribs, “Don’t get used to it. I just didn’t want to wait around for your slow ass to waddle back in.” Though he sounded rather harsh, you knew he was just doing roundabout affection in his own way.

Your head lolled against his, the leaves on the trees above swaying you into a warm midday nap the longer you watched them through your eyelashes, “Take me to bed?”

You didn’t necessarily hear his response, though you weren’t dreaming it when his fingers tightened the hold he had on your thighs, the warmth he emitted doing wonders for the pains in your body as he secured you further into his back to ensure you didn’t fall off. You couldn’t help the smile, your cheek smushed into his shoulder as you took one final look at the sunlight path before you both and closed your eyes as exhaustion took its hold over.

With a last conscious thought, you reminded yourself to thank Mai later for allowing you a nice stroll in the garden – especially when you were doing it with your family.

[purplecoffee13]

Please, Please, Please - pt.1

Summary: “Harry is utterly fascinated by his new neighbor, Y/N, and takes it upon himself to protect her. But little does Y/N know, that Harry may be the person she is supposed to be running from…”

Wc: 5.6k

Tropes: good girl x bad boy / neighbors

Warnings: mentions of violence, cursing, bit of gaslighting.

A/N: THIS IS A TWO PART ONE SHOT based on this request. Please note that it is based around the MUSIC VIDEO, not necessarily the song itself! I decided to cut it up into two parts, because it was getting awfully long, and I was too eager to share it with you. Next part will be steamy!

General Masterlist

PART 2

You sigh, looking up at your new home. Well— you think. You're not exactly sure which window is yours, but you will figure it out once you're on the right floor. You adjust the duffel bag that is slung over your shoulder, and grab your suitcase before walking towards the entrance.

With your new set of keys which you got from the landlord yesterday, you open the door to the lobby. Or, hallway with post boxes. That would definitely be a more accurate way to describe it.

When you were little and fantasized about moving into a place of your own, you have to admit, you did imagine something a bit less... intimidating. Unfortunately, you had been left with no choice.

Ever since your dad died about five years ago, your mother has been serial dating like there was no tomorrow. You had learned to ignore the different men in your kitchen, eating the cereal and drinking your coffee at 7am, but lately something had changed.

Your mother had stuck with one man.

Sadly for you—and your mother, although she wasn't ready to admit that—the guy was a fucking prick. Worst thing about him? He was sneaky about it. When you confronted your mother, telling her you weren't sure if her new boyfriend was that good of a guy, she had flipped out. As she threw all kinds of accusations on the table, such as you not wanting her to be happy and even insinuating you want her boyfriend for herself, you decided that enough was enough.

That night, you hunted the internet for an affordable place. It's how you found this apartment. You knew it wasn't the best neighborhood, but it was a place of your own, and you were sure that you could make it on your own over there.

After all, you had a well paid office job not too far away, and the costs of the apartment wouldn't interfere too much with your saving for law school.

So, kind of on a whim, you contacted the landlord. And now, here you are, ready to unpack all of your stuff. Your mother had at least been so kind to hire a moving truck, but you think it mainly had to do with her wanting you out of her house as quick as possible. You shared the sentiment, so you hadn't said much about it, besides a polite thank you of course.

It takes you three hours to get everything upstairs, and the janitor, Rod, even helps you out with some of the big furniture. Being a tall, broad guy, appearing to be in his sixties, you had actually been quite unnerved by him. Nevertheless, you decided to play smart and throw him a sweet smile the first time you ran into him. It had faded the seemingly permanent  frown on his ever so slightly, and after introducing yourself, his face was even neutral.

It didn't take more than three minutes of chit chat before Rod had warmed up to you, and by the end of the fifteen minutes, he offered to help you. If it hadn't been for him, you would've still been carrying pieces of your couch into your apartment.

You had been able to take over the bed frame and the dining table from the previous owner, so you only had to put your mattress on your bed before you could let yourself fall on it and chill out for a while.

After letting yourself rest for about fifteen minutes, you unpack as much of the stuff in the kitchen, and you spend the rest of the night unpacking your clothes while dancing to the music that blasts through your headphones.

At around midnight, you pass out during a feeble attempt at sorting your socks.

Your peaceful slumber gets interrupted, however, by an array of less peaceful noises coming from another apartment. The first few minutes awake are spent with your eyes stubbornly closed, hoping to fall asleep again, but when you hear an extremely loud thud, your eyes shoot open.

Getting up from your bedroom, you walk over to your door, and look through the peephole. It doesn't seem like there is anyone in the hallway, and the sounds do seem to have quieted down. You sigh, turning around to go back to your bed, when you hear a shout, followed by another thump. Frowning, you go back and open the door, walking out into the hallway. You squint, and blink a few times to get used to the harsh light. Then, you knock on the door in front of you.

There's a couple of voices sounding from inside the apartment, but no one answers. You groan, knocking again, and even harsher this time. It grows quiet, and you are contemplating going back to bed, hoping whoever is on the other side of that wall got the message, but then the door swings open.

In front of you stands a man, with brown curls and a very apparent frown on his face. One that falters ever so slightly at the sight of you, and is accompanied by a small smirk. He leans against the door frame. His cross necklace dangles, visible by his dress shirt that is far from buttoned all the way up, and you swear it hypnotizes you for the shortest second.

"H-hi." You stammer, looking at the man with wide eyes. His smirk grows, and you forget why you are even here.

"Hello." He greets back, hands sliding into his pockets as he looks you up and down, shamelessly. "What can I do for you, sweetheart?"

"Uh, I just moved into the apartment across from you, and I was wondering if you could keep down the noise a little bit?" You ask, but the man doesn't respond. He solely scans you with some sort of frown on his face. You can't deduce whether that is his neutral face, or if he's pissed at you. Nevertheless, you are kind of scared. "It's just— I don't mean to be rude. I just have to get up very early, and it was very loud, so... also, are you okay? It's— I heard a thud, I thought maybe someone fell?"

Once again, it grows quiet between the two of you. With every passing moment of silence, you are regretting your choice to knock. Did you really have to piss off your neighbors the first night you moved in? Couldn't have just battled through a broken night? You curse yourself as you wait for some sort of answer.

"Sure, sweetheart. I'll shut it all down for you."

You let out a breath of relief, glad to see he is not taking it badly. You bite your lip, trying to fight your smile from getting too wide.

"Really? Thank you so much! I appreciate it, and I really didn't mean to offend you or anything. I promise, it's just because I have to get up so early and the coffee at my work is horrible so—" You stop yourself mid-sentence when you realize you are babbling your new neighbor's ear off. "Never mind. Good night, and nice to meet you. My name is Y/N, by the way."

The man doesn't say anything once again, so you take it as your cue to get the fuck back to bed before making it worse. You walk into your apartment, turning around to close the door, when you hear his voice.

"Harry."

Your head shoots up, tilting it ever so slightly at the sudden word spoken by your neighbor. He tilts his head, mocking you, as he repeats the name while pointing to himself. With that, he turns around and closes the door. You do the same, leaning against the door as you realize you have the hottest new neighbor ever.

Another, extremely loud thud sounds from his apartment, and your eyebrows knit together. A loud voice is heard, one that is clearly Harry's shouting 'sorry!'. You giggle, shaking your head at the comedic timing before waltzing back to your bed.

Little do you know, that while you fall back asleep in your comfortable bed, your new neighbor thinks about you through the entire night. Harry's mind is absent, even as they drag the body of the guy that didn't pay up in time out of his apartment, even as he scrubs the blood off his hands and face.

"Sure, sweetheart. I'll shut it all down for you."

He had been purely sarcastic, baffled by the fact that you even had the guts to knock on his door. The first time you knocked, he thought it was just noise from outside or something. No one was stupid enough to knock on Harry Styles' door. No one was dumb enough to risk it.

But someone did knock; an insanely beautiful woman with nothing but an oversized shirt on. Well, shorts under it maybe, but for the sake of his imagination, you didn't. And you weren't stupid, you just didn't know whose door you were knocking on.

Anyone else who would have been foolish enough to do so, especially while he was dealing with a deadbeat who owed him more than enough money, would've met an entirely different fate.

The way you stumbled over your words and  let your eyes travel over his body had given him too much of an ego boost not to play with you a little bit. And once you had reacted so genuinely to his sarcastic response, he somehow didn't have it in his heart to tell you that he wasn't being serious.

Which is strange, because he didn't peg himself for someone with a heart, not anymore.

Nevertheless, he decided that you were right. The incessant noise had gone on long enough. And so, right after he closed the door, Harry turned around aimed his silencer right at the deadbeat's head. Following the thud of his body falling down, he had shouted a 'sorry' for the last noise he would make that night.

Now, as he lays in bed, the reason for his sleeplessness isn't the weight of another death on his shoulders. No, it's his new neighbor and her long, bare legs.

************************************************

ONE DAY LATER

Your shoulders are hurting.

After yesterday's moving activities and today's excruciatingly long day at work, you are exhausted. Not only did you have to do an insane amount of paperwork today, you also got assigned to even more administrative work that shouldn't even be yours to deal with in the first place.

When you had mentioned you wanted to gain experience in the field of law during your interview for receptionist at a law firm, you hadn't expected them to throw all the work in your lap. You were doing a lot of things, spending way too many after hours in the office, doing jobs that were never in your job description, and instead labeled as 'ways to gain experience'. The worst thing is, your boss is acting like these tasks are a huge favor to you, but you know it's just the jobs that they are too lazy to do themselves.

Nonetheless, you don't say anything about it. Despite the cruelness and sometimes uselessness of the assignments you are given, you do have access to active cases that lawyers are working on, and it gives you an opportunity to observe their styles and its effectiveness.

Wanting to become a lawyer is something you had always dreamed of. You loved justice, and you weren't afraid to fight for it. In your day to day life, you are very sweet, bubbly, and in some cases—like yesterday—even shy. But once you are in a professional setting, you can switch and stand strong. The division between your personal and professional self is one you have learned to balance very well, and you also use it as a secret weapon. People are way too quick to underestimate you, and you always make sure it comes back to bite them in the ass.

You put your groceries and briefcase on the ground, allowing yourself to look for your keys, which you forgot to take out of your bag and are now buried somewhere at the bottom. Head deep into your purse, you don't notice Harry walking out of his apartment until his door shuts. It is right after you've found your keys, so with them in hand you turn around to greet him with a smile.

Your new neighbor looks gorgeous, which doesn't bode well for you because you are currently feeling like an expired, mushy sack of potatoes. You shiver at the thought.

"Hey!" You say instead.

"Hello sweetheart." His smooth, English accent hits your ears just right. "Sleep well last night?"

Your cheeks turn pink, and you nod. "Yes, thank you for asking. Oh! Speaking of..."

You turn around and bend down to dig through your grocery bag. When your eyes meet Harry's again, you are reaching out a bouquet of flowers. He stares at it, wary of your intentions.

"They're for you." You feel the need to clarify.

"Aw, sweetheart, you didn't have to go through the hassle of buying me flowers. I'm quite an easy man you know, all you have to do is ask." He says, grin wide as he observes the way your eyes nearly pop out of your sockets at the suggestion of him and you. He likes seeing you all flustered.

"W-what, no! I— it was for yesterday! Because you were so nice to me. I wanted to make up for meeting in such an unfortunate way. Didn't want you to think you have a shitty neighbor now or something." You explain, watching Harry's amusement at your awkwardness.

"I'd never think that, sweetheart." His voice is low, and despite saying it in a bit of a joking way, you swallow at the sound of the sentence. The raspiness of it just gets to you. You brush your nerves off with a weak smile, and turn to open your door.

"Well, have a good night." You say, awkwardly waving at Harry as you carry your bags into your apartment. You place them in your hallway before walking back to close the door. Harry waves back with the flowers, winking at you.

"Good night, sweetheart."

Your heart races at the continuous nickname. It sounds so sexy coming out of his mouth, and it is the only thing you can think of as you cook your dinner. It is even hard to concentrate while watching your favorite show.

A few hours go by, and the sound of Harry's voice doesn't fade from your mind. Neither does the excruciating pain in your shoulders. At around nine p.m. you give up and decide to grab some painkillers. However, to your great horror, you find out that you ran out and forgot to buy new ones.

Cursing yourself, you rush over to your coatrack and grab your jacket. Along with your purse, containing important things such as money, your keys, and pepper spray, you leave your apartment to pop into the convenience store nearby.

It's only a five minute walk, but with your speed you cut a minute from that estimate. It takes a little bit to find the paracetamol, but after grabbing two boxes of pills, you rush to the cash register. You wait until the man in front of you has paid, smiling politely when he turns around to walk out of the store, and step forward to pay for your painkillers.

Despite the cashier's monotone voice, you are more than satisfied with this convenience store, and you walk out smiling at the knowledge of being rid of your pain very soon.

You flinch at the sight of the man from before standing right outside, grinning at you as you walk by. Despite his middle aged appearance, his teeth are rather yellow. You avoid making further eye contact, tension growing in your stomach. As you walk back to your apartment, you make sure to keep your pace quick.

You're too scared to look behind you, but you feel it. You feel that this man is walking a few meters behind you and you also feel like you might throw up. But you keep walking, keys in one hand, pepper spray in the other.

You are ready to open the door that leads you to the hallway of your apartment complex, and immediately push the key into the hole once you get there. But for some stupid fucking reason, the door won't budge. Your heartbeat rises and your hands are getting clammy as you shimmy your keys, trying to open that goddamn door. As your eyes begin to water, you hear a voice behind you.

"Need some help, pumpkin?"

Frantically, your gaze searches for a way to get out of here. It falls into the intercom, but you can't seem to find some sort of emergency button. Since you can't buzz yourself in, that option seems to be useless.

Then, an idea enters your mind.

You take a deep breath, hoping it'll steady your voice before you respond. "No thank you."

The man chuckles. "I think you do. 'S okay, I like a damsel in distress."

Pulling the key out of the hole and wrapping your hand around it, you turn around to the man. You swallow your pride and try to be as nice as you can be when rejecting someone. Stepping back a bit, you almost lean against the wall as you blindly press one of the buttons behind you. Luckily, the noise of ringing a bell isn't very loud from downstairs, so you don't think the man notices your sneaky action.

"I am fine, good night." You say, your smile gone now. You can't find it in yourself to be nice and sweet after that creepy comment. Technically, you are very helpless right now. Because of him, and his actions that fill you with fear. The threat of his presence is what makes you that 'damsel in distress' in the first place, and you hate the fact that men idolize saving you when often they are the danger itself.

"I don't think you are. Why don't you come with me, get a drink together?" His tone is dominated by the insincerity that drips from his words. You know it isn't a question, it's a command. The salacious smirk he wears with it is disgusting, and the way his eyes shamelessly scan you makes you want to shower five times just to feel less gross.

You feel the slight pain in your thumb for pressing so much and hard into the button behind you, but you can't help but pray that your idea will work.

"No, please leave me alone." You try to be as stern as you can, although your shaky voice isn't conveying that message very well.

"I don't think you understood what I said, pumpkin. You and me are gonna get a drink together." He reaches forward and grabs you by your arm, pulling you towards him. You try to shake him off of you, but his grip only tightens. You choke out a cry, still trying to get his grimy hands off of you while he only buries his fingernails further into your skin.

"Let me go!" You scream as loud as you can, hoping that there is someone who will at least hear you. Your free hand reaches into your purse, and you pull out your pepper spray. In a split second, you are holding it up and spray it in the man's eyes.

He shrieks in shock, and lets go of you, covering his eyes with his hands. You quickly turn around to run back inside, but crash into a body on your way there.

Holding your waist, Harry keeps you from falling over. He frowns, his jaw clenching when he catches your terror filled, red eyes.

"Go inside." He orders. While the context is stern, the words spoken come out way softer than one would think when demanding something from someone. You don't have to be told twice, rushing through the open door and running up the countless flights of stairs. You are completely out of breath when you reach your floor, but you don't stop hurrying until you are in the safety of your own apartment.

You tear all your clothes off your body, feeling like you might choke because everything you have on feels to tight to your skin. You keep crying as you jump into the shower to wash yourself off, as you take off your make-up, and as you put a tank top and loose sweatpants on your freshly washed body.

You take your head out of the bun it was in to keep it dry as you walk towards your front door upon hearing a knock. When you open it, you're standing face-to-face with your neighbor.

"Are you okay?" Harry asks, eyebrows knotted as he looks at you. You nod, not wanting to say a word because you don't want to make him uncomfortable by becoming a blubbering mess in front of him. "Can I come in?"

You nod again, opening the door further so he can enter your place. His steps are careful and light, and you see his eyes scan the apartment as he walks in. You shut the door behind him, making Harry turn around to look at you.

He is back at your side as soon as he spots the marks on your arm that the creepy man left when he tried to take you to god knows where. With a tight jaw, Harry glances up at you.

"You need to put ice on that. It's gonna bruise."

You look down, too timid to meet his gaze, and notice Harry's red knuckles. It doesn't take you very long to put two and two together. For some reason, you don't want to directly mention that just yet, so instead you whisper:

"You too."

Harry lets out a breathy chuckle and nods his head, watching you as you walk over to your freezer to get some ice. Putting it in two different dish cloths, you hand one to him before walking over to your couch. Harry follows suit, plopping next to you and putting the cloth meant for him on your arm.

Flushed from that action, you slowly grab his hand and place it flat on your thigh. Ignoring the way it makes the rest of your body feel, you press the ice filled cloth against his knuckles, hoping the cold will give him some relief. He winces, his fingers tightening around your thigh ever so slightly before immediately relaxing again.

Your eyes travel to your own arm, initially to see Harry's hand wrapped around it. However, the sight of the red marks on your arm make your eyes water again, the memory from what just happened resurfacing. The sickening fear of not knowing how the fuck to get out of that situation is as overwhelming as it was just before, even though you are safe now. You hate that a man made you feel so weak.

You can't help the tears from flowing, so you just let them as you silently recall the events of tonight. Your thoughts are cut in on when Harry removes his bruised hand from your thigh and cups it around your jaw. He leans forward, green eyes all sympathetic.

"It's okay, you're okay. He won't hurt you anymore, or ever again." He whispers. You shut your eyes, your silent tears now breaking into soft sobs. There is no choice but to let the sadness flow, and relish in the comfort of Harry's fingers wiping away your tears as you cry out the stress you had been feeling, and give it a place.

You feel it getting lighter with every cry. Each tear that Harry catches is a bit of weight off your shoulders. For some reason he chooses to sit there and offer you a space to store your pain. And even though normally you would never allow yourself, tonight you make use of that space.

*****************************************

A few weeks had gone by, and Harry had taken it upon himself to become your new watch dog. After what happened, he refused to let you go outside by yourself.

The morning after the incident, you got up and went to work like normal. But when you opened your apartment door, you ran into Harry, who had also been planning on going outside. He walked you to your car, and watched as you drove away. That night, when you returned from work, you ran into him again in the hallway downstairs, and walked to your apartments together.

After about three nights of these exact same situations, you could confirm for yourself that Harry was waiting to escort you anywhere.

You thought confronting him about your knowledge of his schemes would put an end to the overprotectiveness, but you were proven wrong. Instead of toning down his behavior, he amped it up. There wasn't a trip to the supermarket that you made by yourself anymore. And anytime you tried to say something about his following you everywhere, he would make up a silly excuse that left you speechless with flushed cheeks and a stupid grin on your face. You gave up fighting it not long after that, mainly because you enjoy his company so much.

Being so close to Harry all the time did make you realize how much distance everyone else kept from him. You didn't miss how people avoided his gaze, or how certain cashiers stumbled over their words as you paid for your groceries. It had you wondering; just how scary was Harry?

Harry had really taken it upon himself to protect you. It kind of went automatically, if he had to be honest. He simply couldn't watch you walk around the neighborhood so defenseless. What happened to you had enraged him so much, he didn't want a repetition of it.

Of course, an exact repetition was not an option anymore since he had beaten up the guy who assaulted you to the point where he was hospitalized. Harry couldn't find it in himself to feel even the slightest of remorse. Well, maybe only for the fact that he didn't kill him right then and there. He would have, had he not been too worried about you being alone upstairs.

Soon enough, word had traveled about your association with Harry, and it resulted into people being afraid of you. You were so incredibly confused about the shaky voices of people you'd ask for help in stores. You had never imagined yourself to have such an intimidating aura.

Since Harry had taken it upon himself to watch you, you had taken it upon yourself to feed him. It was the least you could do, and it gave you a reason to keep him around longer at night.

Part of you was aware that wanting to get closer to Harry might not be the best idea, especially considering the collectively instilled fear that lingered everywhere he would go. But he was so sweet to you, and you were sure that there was an explanation.

So, tonight during dinner, you had decided you would ask him about it.

Harry was delighted when you asked him if he wanted to stay and eat, and didn't hesitate to say yes. Now as he leans against the counter, watching you cook the pasta you promised to prepare, you have to actively control your breathing. His intense stare has a way of turning your legs into jelly and fogging up your mind.

"How was your day?" You ask him as casually as you can. Harry doesn't tear his eyes off of you, grinning at the way he is making you squirm.

"Good, love."

You swallow at the new nickname he suddenly conjured up. The low baritone of his voice combined with his green eyes on yours has your heartbeat getting out of control. You hear the breathy chuckle leaving Harry's mouth, and it makes your stomach turn. He knows exactly what he is doing.

"So, uhm... I have a question." You say, focusing extra hard on stirring the boiling pasta. He hums, indirectly telling you to ask away. You turn down the pitch on which your pasta stands, and turn to face him. For the first second that you meet his eyes, you were forget what you were even going to ask him, but you quickly regain your senses.

"Why is everyone here so afraid of you?" You tilt your head, really observing Harry. Sure, he is tall, with a broad and muscled figure. He always wears dark clothes and his green eyes will never look away first. But to truly be terrified of this man? You couldn't imagine why.

Harry doesn't say anything. He pushes himself away from the counter and walks towards you, slowly towering over your smaller frame. He leans forward, his face closer to yours than it has ever been before, and it gives you ideas that you probably shouldn't have.

"Do I scare you?"

Silently, you shake your head. Harry's eyes slowly travel down your face, fixating on your mouth for the longest five seconds you have ever experienced, and then shoot back up to meet yours again. "Then why do you care so much about what others think?"

"I don't." You respond embarrassingly fast, overwhelmed with a need to get his approval.

"Well, there you have your answer."

With that, he turns around to the counter and grabs the glass of white wine you poured for him. Taking it between his hands as if it were a cocktail glass, you watch entranced as he takes a sip. Your gaze falls onto his hands. You feel sinful for the thoughts that occupy your mind, but they fly out the window when you spot how bruised his knuckles are. And you realize...

"No, I don't." You say sternly. Harry looks at you, amused by your protest. "I don't know anything about you, Harry."

Harry laughs, but it’s a bitter laugh, accompanied by his hand running through his hair and his head shaking as if he can’t believe what he is dealing with. A part of you wants to get on your knees and beg him to forgive you for being suspicious of who he truly is, but you refrain from doing it.

“People fear what they don’t know, Y/N.” He says, his eyes finding yours. Your heart starts beating faster, aware of the fact that his eyes are going to keep being trained on yours without even so much as faltering.

“I don’t give a fuck about what those people think of me, they don’t know me. You do. So why is their judgment relevant? I’m here, aren’t I? Standing in front of you, letting you know me. Is that not enough?”

You feel a pang of guilt in your stomach at his words, and the authenticity of them. You let out a sigh, breaking eye contact to look down at the floor, contemplating what he’s saying. Maybe he is right.

“Sorry.” You say so softly it could almost be classified as a whisper. The feeling of Harry’s fingers pushing your chin up makes your eyes meet his, and you notice the hint of a smile he wears.

“Go sit.”

Slightly confused, you follow his order, looking back at him to see him finishing up the pasta and making a bowl for the both of you.

“I’m 29.” He states, his back still to you. Your mouth breaks into a smile, and you prop your elbow on the couch, leaning your chin into the palm of your hand as you observe him.

“Really?” You are grinning like a proper idiot now. Harry nods.

“I don’t have any siblings, but we did have a dog, and we rescued a stray kitten that was sleeping in our garden.” He goes on, turning around and walking over to the couch with the bowls of pasta. He sits down and hands you one.

“What are their names?” You ask.

“Dog is called Pepper. Mum let me name the cat, so I named her Hades.” He explains, making you a giggle.

“You named your girl cat Hades?”

“Persephone is such a mouthful. Plus, I was like ten, and had this big obsession with Hades.” He shrugs, taking a bite of the pasta. Your eyes widen, and you begin to laugh even harder.

“You mean to tell me that little ten year old Harry was obsessed with the Greek God of the underworld, the God of death… Are you okay?”

Harry shrugs. “He’s just doing his job.”

You cover your face with your hands, beyond amused by his nonchalance. You don’t see it, but Harry might take more joy out of the situation than you. His eyes sparkle with adoration as he watches you laugh, and he wishes he knew how to control time just to stay in this moment forever. There is something so extraordinary about your happiness being caused by him. He is fascinated with how much he wishes he could do it every day for the rest of his life.

He didn’t know whether opening up about himself was the smartest ideas, but he would give you his social security number if it made you laugh like that.

You take your hands off your face and look at him, the sudden urge to kiss him being almost unbearable. Almost. You sigh, not knowing how to express these feelings you have towards him, so instead you opt for a simple comment.

“I’m so glad you’re my neighbor.”

Harry smirks. “I’m glad you’re my neighbor too.”

[sugawhaaa]

I had to hop in here straight away when I saw that your requests were open bcs istg I am SUCH a horny mess for Kwak Jiseok.

Aight so hear me out, something that personally really turns me on is taking photos of myself in revealing clothing or lingerie, not necessarily for sexting… just like the actual taking of the pictures is really hot for me yk?

So what I’m requesting here is something that has been taking up so much of my headspace that it’s honestly obsessive… and that’s a sexual photoshoot with Jiseok.

He’s the photographer, and he has a bunch of outfits that he wants the reader to wear… and even more poses in mind. Plus, if reader is a well behaved model and gets him the pictures he wants, he might reward her.

hope that makes sense!!

•°~★JISEOK X READER★~°•

High fashion

୭🧷✧˚.ᵎᵎ🎀୭🧷✧˚.୭🧷✧˚.ᵎᵎ🎀୭🧷✧˚.ᵎᵎ🎀୭✧˚.ᵎᵎ

Warnings::SMUT! VULGAR LANGUAGE!

Genre:: oral (f/m rec) fingering, cowgirl, hair pulling, PRAISE, pet names cream pie (don't try this at home) cum-shot, idk if this is relevant but it's mentioned a lot that he has a big cock 💀

Pairing:: dom!Jiseok x sub!fem!reader

A//N:: honestly I've never gotten a request like this before I was quite shocked 😭 I'm not complaining though, I'm happy to step out of my comfort zone and expirement a little bit. I was kinda torn on how I wanted to write this but I'll try my best 💪 also dw as a Gaon biased I can confirm that pretty much anyone who biases him is a down bad whore for him 💀

Songs that inspired this fanfic::

There is a business for everything. You were very well aware of that as a model for specifically...suggestive things. You modeled for all sorts of things. Bathing suits, bras, underwear, lingerie, and even certain sex toys. You had your fair share of acting as well. You were in a very select few porn videos, mainly because the pay was really, really, high. You definitely didn't hate your job. It made you feel good about yourself and comfortable in your own skin. You were heavily praised by fans for being "so brave" but in reality it made you feel good and you wouldn't have it any other way.

One day you were hanging out in your house, like one does, when you received an email from a designer. It was very professional and full of detail but to sum it up, this designer asked you to model their newest lingerie sets for them. You thought about it for a moment and looked at their website. It was full of beautifully designed lingerie and robs. The website itself was very professional with lots of details. It seemed trustworthy and you agreed to work with them.

A few days later you located the shop and went inside. You took a look around at the shop. It was small but filled with lots of items, but it wasn't crowded either. There was plenty of room to move around and look through everything. You noticed a woman at the front desk when she suddenly came up to you.

"Sorry we just closed we'll be open again tomorrow at 10 am if you'd like to come back," she smiled. She clearly didn't know that you were here to model so she mustn't be the designer. You took off your sunglasses and looked at her warmly.

"I'm actually a model. This is my first time modeling for this shop," you explained and the woman smiled.

"Oh, my apologies! Let me call him in," she smiled and went back to the desk. Call him over? Him?? You thought to yourself as you walked over to her desk. She pressed a button and spoke into a small mic. "There's a model waiting to see you," she said and the doors behind her opened moments after. A young man came rushing out. He had dark red hair and seemed like he was in his early to mid-twenties. He had a measuring tape around his neck and a pencil tucked above his ear.

"Ah, you must be Y/N~!" He smiled and came over to you, extending his hand. You shook his hand as your heart jumped out of your chest. "So I have a lot to go over with you. If you don't mind why don't we go into my workshop?" He gestured to the doors and you blushed.

"S-Sure, that sounds good," you smiled and followed him to his workshop.

"Sorry for the mess I hardly ever have time to clean around here with so many requests," he chuckles as you look around the room. Shelves filled with all kinds of fabrics and lace. Sketches of designs were tacked to a Bristol board near his main desk area. "I have quite a few different sets if you'd want to choose which ones to wear or anything," he said as he pulled out a large tablet and starting going through photos he took of all the sets.

"Don't worry about it. I'm comfortable wearing whatever you want me to," you smiled and he looked up at you with curious eyes.

"As long as you're sure..." he looked at you one last time before confirming that's truly what you wanted. "Okay then, I'll pick them out for you," he went over to a clothing rack he had and picked out a few for you. He held them up and eyed them to your body portions. "Do you know what size you are?" He said as he continued to sort through his designs.

"Yeah I'm about a Y/S, (your/size)" You shrugged. He nodded and swapped out a few of the designs for smaller or bigger ones.

After getting all the outfits chosen and the sets he wanted for you he let you try on your first outfit. You went into the fitting room while he adjusted the set. You looked at the lingerie he presented to you. Of course it was red and you looked at yourself in the mirror for a while adjusting it and admiring yourself. Jiseok then knocked on the door.

"Hey, are you dressed?" He asked softly. You got drawn back to reality from your day dreaming.

"Oh yes," you chuckled before opening the door. Jiseok had his professional camera around his neck as he held it with one hand. He looked you up and down and his face turned a soft pink.

"So I was thinking," he said before clearing his throat. "This bathroom is really nice," he smiled and you looked confused.

"Yes...it is," you said awkwardly.

"I think it'd be good to take a few photos in here!" He smiled and closed the door behind himself as he walked in. You nodded and waited for him to tell you what to do. "Could you lean back against the counter and kind of drop your head back to let your hair flow down," he asked as he gestured to the counter. You did as he suggested. He crouched down and held up his camera. He leaned forward and adjusted your leg slightly.

The brief second of contact was oddly exhilarating. You continued to pose as you heard the sound of the camera click. He moved to a different angle and took two more photos. "Okay now can you stand up straight and put your left hand across your upper chest," he said as he moved around to the front of you. You did as he said. "Tilt your head a bit to the left, like away from me," he said as he kept his eyes on your body. You did as he said and he smiled. "Perfect, just like that," he said as he snapped a few photos before squatting again to get some lower ones. "Okay now look over at the wall," he pointed to the left as he kept looking at you through the camera. "Perfect~" he prolonged the "per" in his words.

This process continued a few times in various locations with various outfits. You were in the washroom changing outfits again when you looked out the window to see it was dark. You continue to change into a beautiful white set. There was a little robe that went over top of it and you just fell in love with the design. You walk out confidently and Jiseok smiles.

"This one's absolutely gorgeous," you said as you looked at the silky fabric flowing off your body.

"Thank you," he smiled with red cheeks. "I just finished that design yesterday I believe," he looked you up and down before biting his lip slightly. "Alright, ahem, for this one we're gonna use the bed,"

You nodded and sat down on the bed. "Okay, can you go on your knees and sit down, putting your legs in a W shape?" He asked as he adjusted the camera lens. You nodded and did as he said. "Now lean back and spread your legs a bit more," you followed his instructions and watched him stay focused on his work. You bit your lip as you watched him. "Good girl," he said in a low voice and your heart skipped a beat.

Was that meant to be sensual or not?

You asked yourself. You remained focused and continued to hold your pose. "Okay now look to your right just a little bit," he moved his finger to the right as he looked into the camera. "Perfect. Stay just like that," he smiled and took a few photos. "Alright very good. Now lay back a bit more and cross your right leg over your left thigh," he said as he stood up.

You followed his directions and posed accordingly. He approached you and moved the robe a bit to expose more of your ass. You had to hold in your cheeky smile. "Relax," he said softly.

"R-Right," you blushed and composed yourself. He brushed back some of your hair to expose more of your skin and you felt your heart skip a beat.

"Perfect," he smiled and took a photo. "Now take a nice, slow deep breath for me," he said softly and you did as he asked. You took a deep breath in and heard the sound of the camera clicking. Then you let your breath out, and he took a few more photos. "Thank you, that was excellent," he smiled as he stood up and let his camera hang. He sat on the edge of the bed and you sat up.

"Your designs are beautiful, it was truly an honor to model for you," you smiled and leaned in closer to him. You looked down at his veiny hands and you blushed before instantly looking back up at him. He followed your gaze with a sly grin.

"You seemed to be looking at my hands a lot," he smiled as he leaned closer to you as well.

"Y-Yeah, I just have a thing for hands," you say before thinking. You pause and realize how out of pocket you must sound. He chuckled slightly. "No, no, that's not what I mean, I mean like..." you blushed and he smiled.

"If you haven't noticed, I have a thing for lingerie," Jiseok smirked and you looked at him attentively. "And elegant women, women that know they're worth yet sometimes still shy, women who model. Or you could say I have a thing for you," he smiled cheekily as he leaned closer. He twirled your hair around his finger as you looked at him with a flushed face. "Tell me, do you just have a thing for my hands or is there more?" He leaned in for a kiss but waited for you to give in. You leaned in and kissed him, he put his hands in your hair. You put your hands around the back of his neck and leaned back. You fell to the bed and he pinned you to it.

"I have a thing for guys with the name Kwak Jiseok," you smiled and he chuckled. He slid one of his hands up your body, tracing the stitch bands around your thighs and hips. He kissed between your collarbones softly. You leaned your head back to give him more access to your neck and chest.

"I'm so addicted to you," he grinned before kissing your neck and sucking on the skin. You inch your hips up to hit Jiseoks. His body jerks slightly from the sudden contact against his erection straining against his pants. He lets go of your skin from his lips and his head falls down. The roots of his hair being the only thing you can see. His hands continue to roam around your body as he kisses down your chest and stomach, just to the waistband of your panties. He looks up at you with hooded eyes.

You extend your hand down to run your fingers through his dark hair. He pressed the flat of his tongue against your clothed clit. You jumped and your legs inched closer to each other. Jiseok smirked and brought his hands down to your hips. He pulled off your panties, leaving them on the corner of the bed as he indulged in your pussy. He dived his head down in between your folds and slurped all your slickness.

The lewd sounds echoed in the empty studio. Your chest heaved at the pleasure coursing through your body.

"Yes," you moaned softly as you grab his head to steady yourself. His tongue flicks your clit as his hands claw at the outside of your thighs. He buries his face in your pussy. You arch your back, bucking your hips into his jaw. You can feel him smirk against your aching core. He pulls back to breathe for a minute.

"You taste so fucking good," he says before licking his lips. His plump lips wet from your juices. The tip of his nose and chin glistening. He leans back down to continue his meal. He takes another long lick up your folds and you can't keep your loud moans in. He begins to circle his tongue around the lips of your pussy as his fingers tease your entrance. His nose presses against your clit, creating an insane amount of stimulation. It's no doubt that this isn't his first rodeo. His techniques were sending sparks throughout your entire body.

The sounds of him slurping up your juices ring in your ears as you feel your climax approaching you quickly. "J-Jiseok, I'm close," you manage to whimper out between loud moans and intense gasps for air. Jiseok just continued to eat you out like you were his last meal. You grabbed his hair in a tight fist as your legs shake, threatening to close and lock around his head. "Jiseok!" You call out his name as flicks your clit mercilessly. You come undone beneath him. Your legs locking around his head as he licks up all of your cum.

Once you come down from your high you open your legs. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to, it was like a reflex," you apologize but Jiseok cuts you off.

"Shh, shh," he shakes his head. You pause and watch him attentively. He sticks his tongue out and runs his index and middle finger down the outside of his tongue. His fingers glistening from your cum. You blush and feel your walls tighten around nothing from the excitement of his flirtatious action. You bite your lip. "You were such a good little girl," he cooes as he leans over top of you. You see his shirt covered in miscellaneous liquids. He starts unbuttoning his shirt as he sits on his knees.

He throws his shirt aside and you admire his toned body. You extend a hand out to run along his abdomen. His skin is so soft and smooth. You look up at him to see a playful grin on his lips. You travel your hand down to his waistband tugging on it lightly.

"You want a turn now?" He says in a creamy low voice that makes the butterflies in your stomach fly south. You nod softly and he lets out a little sigh. He unbuttons his dress pants and takes them off along with his boxers, finally freeing his member.

He lays back on the bed and you instantly crawl beside him, eager to play with his cock. You can't help but admire the way it stands against his stomach. You grab him from the base and take one long lick up his length. A soft moan escapes his lips as his body jerks lightly. "Good girl," he says as he brushes back your [H/L] hair. You look at his erection worriedly. You hesitantly open your mouth and approach his tip. "If you don't want to baby you don't have to," he says softly, misenturpitating your hesitation.

"No, no I want to. I'm just not sure if I can't fit it all in my mouth," you chuckle with an embarrassed smile.

"Don't worry about fitting it all, that's what your hands are for doll," he smiles as he plays with your hair. You nod and put your lips around him. He groans loudly, seething between his teeth. "Fuck, baby," he grunts as he holds your hair in a messy ponytail. You hold the bottom of his length, rotating your hand from extra stimulation. "Good girl, just like that," he praises, knowing you're trying your best. You Bob your head slowly adjusting to his size.

You roll your tongue around as you stuff him in your mouth. He grunts lowly and you can see him trying to keep his hips from bucking into your mouth. He's trying not to push you past your comfort zone but he's also losing it. "You're doing so good," he continues to praise as he plays with your hair. His praise encourages you to take a little bit more of him in your mouth. You begin to Bob your head faster from the encouragement.

"Yes!" He moans loudly his hips ever so slightly bucking up. "Fuck, I'm trying so hard baby but you're making me go crazy," he admits as he holds your head. You rub the tip of his cock on the inside of your cheek as you continue to suck him off. You feel his cock twitch in your mouth and both of you know he's just about to go over the edge. "I'm gonna cum!" He moans and you slip him off of your lips, his cum squirting up into your face.

His cum drips down from your eyebrows to your chin. He lets go of your hair as he pants heavily. You lick up his length to taste every drop of his sweetness.

"You're so hot," he says in a low raspy voice. He suddenly picks you up by your hips and holds you just above his tip. "Are you ready for this?" Jiseok asks in a soft voice.

You nod "Yes," you bite your lip eagerly.

"Are you sure?" He asks one more time to be sure. You nod vigorously and he finally lets go of your hips. You slowly sink onto him, his cock stretching you perfectly. You throw your head back as you let out a loud moan. "You're s-so tight," he groans as he holds your hips again. You fully sit down on his length and take a moment to adjust to him.

You slowly start to roll your hips on him. You feel his tip hit so deep inside you. You clench around him as your body jolts forward in pleasure, your semen-covered hand over your mouth. Jiseok reaches up to you with shaking hands. "I want to hear you," he grunts and you put your hand down. You start to get used to his size and start to slowly rise up and down on his cock. He swears he can see stars from the way you move on him.

He grips your hips harshly before you start bouncing on him. The sound of your skin colliding rings in your ears. You watch as his chest heaves. He extends a hand up to your tits which are currently bouncing with your pace. He slides his fingertips under the fabric he used only a week ago. He never could've guessed he'd be here now.

He runs his fingertips over your nipple adding to the sensations coursing through you. "I'm close," you moan as you bounce faster, your walls clenching around him.

"Good baby," he chuckles. "Keep using me until you're satisfied," he smirks as he feels his climax approaching as well. The feeling of your pussy hugging every vein in his cock so tightly drives him insane. He feels like you're just milking him into nothing. "I'm gonna cum, where do you want it?" He says through deep, raspy, breaths.

"Inside," you moan out loudly as you orgasm, your legs shaking as you claw at his chest. He grabs your hips and thrusts into you a few more times causing you to let out a hoarse moan. You were already sensitive from just orgasming so intensely that this could just break you.

You felt his hot semen fill you up. His body glistens in sweat beneath you as the two of you pant in unison. You look down and slowly slide off his cock. A mixture of your pleasure pours from your pussy. Jiseok quickly presses his thumb against your entrance. You look at him surprised as cum drips from his thumb.

He pants as he looks up at you, strands of his hair stuck to his forehead.

"So, you wanna model for me again next week? Same time?" He chuckles before licking his lips.

A/N:: not to toot my own horn or anything but omg I love this fanfic *lip bite emoji* literally (s)creamed while proofreading it

[charismaofobedience]

what makes you think mikoto is good rep? specifically, what is it about double that convinces you?

Okay okay, it took me some time to perfectly articulate my thoughts on how MIkotos system isn't horrible rep and instead was tackled... Somewhat well? This was also written after me and another friend who's a system discussed this extensively and how our own situations lowkey match the situation Mikoto himself is facing. Under the cut because I did *not* expect this to get so long </3

To start it off with some debunking of things people have been mentioning as "oh but this proves he's not a system" (after Milgram itself confirmed them as one but oh well), the whole thing on how DID only appears during childhood isn't... Really the full truth? The most common thing to happen with DID is, instead, for someone to develop the conditions for it through their childhood, but the symptoms only start showing when older. I myself was a case of that and while it started around my 6 years, we only had our first split at 14. Mikotos just happen to be later. I personally also think that, during the phone call with his mom, there wouldn't just have a random baby crying noise for no reason. He probably developed it that early, but just didn't split until recently, however that's just my own reading and not anything confirmed.

For the point of "but then, why don't the milgram rules work on John if he is indeed the killer? This proves it's Mikoto who killed", just look at irl court cases of systems. The one being judged will always be the host almost all the times, after all, he's the main one who fronts, and not whichever alter committed the murder. The host and body would be the one in jail etc in a real life prison, not the alter who committed it. Milgram is a perfect parallel to that, with Mikoto being restrained and the Es barrier working on him even if he didn't commit any murder while John, the alter and one who committed the crime, doesn't has any restraints or barrier that work on him. Because Mikoto is the host and core of their system, not John.

Second, some quick system terminology. I'll be using the terms host, protector/persecutor and dormancy on this, so for a quick understanding: Host means that, basically, that alter is the one who mainly fronts and takes care of things, may or may not be the core ("original" person), but at Mikotos case I'll assume he's both the core and the host. Protector is what the name implies, they're alters who have as their purpose to protect the system and body. Persecutors just so happen to be protectors who have more drastic means to do things and will inherently be harmful to the system in a way in another, they are not necessarily bad, and might instead just be misguided and think what they are doing is a solution for a issue and that by doing so they're protecting the system. Finally, dormancy is when an alter of a system... Well, goes into dormancy. They can't come to front anymore and will be "asleep" for some time or even forever depending on the conditions. A inclusion is also possible, where two alters (or more) will become one etc, but I don't think that will be the case for Mikoto.

So, as it's settled, Mikoto is the Host and Core of the system and Orekoto/John is the Protector/Persecutor of it. Let's get to the explanation now.

Mikoto's split seemingly very much occurred due to the stress situation he had been feeling from his work. We have John welcoming him home twice through the mv and noticing that Mikoto isn't smiling or anything when coming home anymore and it isn't the only times judging by the "another day" mention. We can see on the second one he's either getting the subway to go home or go to work (probably the first one), but on the first time it's said we get to see Mikoto's phone and, specifically, messages coming through and through.

All the texts are coming from his boss, and from the looks of it Mikoto works for a black company in Japan, so it's no wonder he's stressed and very clearly depressed there. Judging by the time Mikoto would be going back home at midnight and, at that time, he's texted by his boss that he needs to remake a whole product and correct mistakes from another thing for the next day of work, and with "next day" you can bet they mean "when i see you in around 10 hours". For now, this is the main reasoning and sustenance we have for "but why did he split?", aka, Mikoto was under a lot of stress on work and it lingered even when he was home to the point that, eventually, John split as himself and, as himself said, he's got Mikoto, and he could leave it all to him.

By this point I like to think it was already John fronting to reply to the boss call. John got tired of Mikoto overworking himself to the brink of breaking down to appease to his boss and superiors and, wanting to help, came to front to "take it all on" in his own words. I think bringing MeMe up for Double discussion is extremely important because we have to remember that MeMe was visibly only from Mikoto's point of view while in Double we have John telling his own point of view. I don't think Mikoto is lying about not knowing he's a system etc, but instead that Mikoto thinks something is wrong, yes, that he knows whoever this person ruining his life is both not him and him at the same time (mirror scene), but isn't aware exactly that he's a system. John is portrayed as scary and evil and cruel etc in MeMe because that's what Mikoto assumes to be happening, Mikoto doesn't know whatever John is doing and what are his intentions, we knew since them Mikoto is the type of guy to take things happening to him lightly (joking about the milgram situation etc) because he may think he deserves it, and this extended to his work and personal life. Through MeMe we see Mikoto looking sad and not smiling anytime until we got to the ending in the headspace where he's sitting on the couch somewhat smiling, but not looking downright miserable like he is in double because Mikoto's main focus was that there is some scary guy there, not that his work life was putting him under so much strain to the point of splitting. Hell, his work life was never brought up until Double anyways, because Mikoto didn't think it was important and kept playing as if it was cool (even during the call with his mom in Double, as John showed us) and that he could handle it, meanwhile Double has John showing us just how miserable Mikoto looked after work and some situations that would happen on his day to day work, how he never went back home smiling etc. MeMe has a bigger focus on Mikoto, as a Host, not knowing that he's a system and how scary that can feel when you're fully unaware of why you're seemingly doing certain actions that you're not aware of when they're brought up to you, meanwhile Double focuses on his alter, John, telling us about his own motivations and the truth about Mikoto's daily life, showing us that whatever it is he did was to protect Mikoto because being a protector is his role in the system. Mikoto didn't take his issues seriously in MeMe, and in Double John gives us a glimpse on how bad it was. For Mikoto, all of his personal issues were coming from the fact that there was an Evil Scary Serial Killer guy around, while John tells us that nuh uh, it was capitalism all along and he'll protect Mikoto from that stress.

The voice drama also tracks some of these points, such as Es mentioning that Mikoto laughs whenever he's troubled and rarely gets angry or frustrated, ignoring problems, and Es mentioning that John acts more rationally, contrary to what he expected... After all, Es' only views of John came from MeMe as a mv, and then from John getting angry and frustrated as Es because, in the beginning, to John it all felt like people were trying to trouble and hurt Mikoto yet again. He was just doing his job as a protector.

I've seen most people say that the "made me a scoundrel" refers to us, the viewers, but also... I feel it might also just be John talking with Mikoto himself. Mikoto saw John as a evil bad alter on MeMe as we just discussed, and from what we see here... Yes, John is violent and impulsive, but he's still a protector who did things with the goal of "I need to protect Mikoto" in mind. We didn't knew that through the entirety of MeMe because Mikoto himself didn't know, and John might be frustrated that the guilty verdict could have come only because Mikoto portrayed himself in such a way first and foremost. John asks him why he's crying because I'm fairly sure he isn't aware that Mikoto isn't aware of him either. The main issue at play here is the fact their system communication is horrible if not non existent. They can't communicate with each other properly for some reason even through writing etc, so there's no way for them to be certain of how the other feels. There's no way for Mikoto to know why John was doing all that. There's no way for Mikoto to know John was trying to protect and help him.

John in the middle of Double even states that he doesn't know why he's there. So yes, most of us are all assuming it was all due to Mikoto's stress with work, but hell we could all be wrong because, again, Mikoto refuses to open up and actually talk about issues with anyone. "Come to know me as an honest man" is John asking for all of us and Es to go and know him as himself, as John the alter, and not the vision Mikoto had of him on MeMe and the entirety of trial one. Because yes, you can't change the violent nature of his, but we should at least come to know and understand that he is a protector and was simply trying his best to protect Mikoto from something (what? We don't know and can't be sure, but yet again, our best bet for now is his job). John is seemingly willing to open up more this trial, admitting he is indeed the one who committed the murder and asking Es to understand the situation they're being put under, with Mikoto feeling stressed and please forgive him, because Mikoto is not the one who committed the murders. I'm sure we will get more on their situation etc when the questions for Mikoto and Kotoko come, but for now we only have that.

John simply wished to save and protect Mikoto, he himself doesn't know how it all ended like *this* (Mikoto as guilty and not innocent, running away from him on the train because, again, Mikoto isn't aware John is simply trying to help him). Having John asking us to forgive Mikoto many times through both the mv (first image of these 3) and voice drama (next screenshot) basically affirms his beliefs and wishes, that he wants us to guilt him, but not Mikoto. After all, if we get another guilty verdict? In his own words Mikoto will go into dormancy due to the stressful situations of having two guilty verdicts in a row, but if Mikoto gets a innocent this time around? Then, there will be less need for John to front... After all, if the situation becomes a bit more calming for them, then John's purpose of protecting Mikoto will be gone for some time... What we can't have, however, Is Mikoto going into dormancy and then forcing John as the new host, because John wouldn't know what to do by then. He was born to be a protector and his identity is intrinsically connected to this role, the duty of protecting Mikoto, for him, comes above him as his own person. With Mikoto's dormancy, John himself would lose his purpose and motive of existing.

And even so, John apologizes at the end of the milgram, questioning even his own existence that "none of this wouldn't have happened if I wasn't even born". In John's eyes, he failed on his role of a protector by getting Mikoto into this situation. The protector guilt is shown so greatly on John that I did tear up a bit when first watching the Double mv and reading the lyrics. The fact they expanded away from the "scary evil alter" troupe that Mikoto made us belief in trial 1 into a protector/persecutor who feels guilt that his actions caused harm to the host? Into a protector with low empathy who cares more for the well being of their host than his own? Mikoto was neutral on the scale of "is this good system rep" for me initially because, again, Mikoto himself didn't know he was a system. Now we got more information on how things work thanks to John and, from the feelings of how scary finding out there's someone else besides you to the fear of realizing that the person who did whatever the hell it was wasn't you mentally, but it physically was you at the same time is terrifying. I think their writing was very well handled to cover the topics of fear and guilt from both sides. Mikoto is still a host who's unaware of the fact he's a system. John is a protector who feels like he failed on his role after getting Mikoto into this mess. Their communication, due to seemingly being a recent split, is non existent so they cant fully talk with each other to comprehend the other. To me, this is a perfect example of how it felt when I myself found out I wasn't a singlet. I don't think Mikoto's writing is perfect and has no flaws, not at all, but on the grander scale of things? Having this type of rep coming from a japanese song media franchise is great and almost unseen since it's mostly always used as a joke or for the scary evil alter trope alone. Milgram and the team could do some stuff better, sure, but from what we have right now? It's far from me of calling them "bad system representation". After all, just like John tells Mikoto, they're both doing their best.

[fluffyfantasticducky]

Mischievous Matching

☆ Pairing: Loki x Mutant!Reader

☆ Synopsis: Loki is a trouble maker, always one to cause trouble, but he meets a mortal that is even worse than him and he finds himself absolutely powerless and victim of your stupid outdated pranks, but he finds himself to be putty in your hands.

☆ Word Count: 7,656 (good thing I didn't know what to do with this prompt, eh? This is just the second longest fic I've done.)

☆ Notes: My first request! Yay! 🥳Loki is a smitten little lee. I'm really bad at doing pranks so I did the worst and oldest pranks I remembered, because it's funny Loki not growing up on earth wouldn't know any of them. Also, it's not said outright, but in case of doubt the reader's mutation is super-elasticity because guess who started watching One Piece 👒🏴‍☠️.

☆ Warnings: Very bad and outdated pranks, other than that it's just pure fluff and flirting.

Loki thought he was smug. He had always been the smart brother, growing up constantly tricking an entire realm of Gods and Goddesses, he was very little used to people being smarter than him. Of course, he knew a couple of them existed, his mother was one he could never lie to. Odin more often than others saw through his deception and caught him playing pranks on Thor. But when you grow up in a Realm that values more your physical strength and at most your ability to come with war strategies… You come to believe you’re bound to become complacent, and it becomes a matter until… well, what always happens.

Loki would’ve never expected his match would come from Earth. Quite frankly, he had expected humans would always stay the same, kind of like Asgardians did. But they didn’t. Humans (for the most part at least) didn’t have magic or supernatural skills, so they chose to be inventive, they created modern civilizations purely thanks to the fact that humans chose to play smarter.

He wouldn’t admit it, now that Asgard settled on Midgard, and he got to see what humans did with technology… it was sort of admirable how much they had made purely with ingenuity. Only a bit.

There was Stark, who had made a technological empire and entire armies just with just machines, humans like the sanctuary where Strange lived or the Maximoff girl that had learned magic despite their incompatibility with it, or the bug hero’s mentor that figured a way to alter the size of matter itself. Not to mention the Avengers had managed to take him down, a God his ancestors used to venerate without question.

Perhaps some humans were in fact, formidable.

Still Loki could get away with a ridiculous number of things simply because a lot of humans were just that gullible. His illusions had already started wreaking havoc in small towns where his illusions had turned into rumors of what he learned humans called UFOs… although, to be completely fair, he was, by definition, an alien.

But the true meaning of formidable he found in you.

He met you one night he was allowed to visit New York and he decided to mess with passerby Midgardians. He simply sat on a bench of the park casted the illusion of a Ratatoskr and let humans do their thing. Truth to be told, while the creature wasn’t necessarily scary, it was gonna be interesting when the young ones noticed a talking squirrel and he saw some children excitedly trying to catch it, which may or may not have been actually endearing. But the real fun came when the parents became hysterical. Chaos ensued and Loki couldn’t hide a smile.

“That’s yours, isn’t it?” a voice asked, and you sat beside him.

He looked at you perplexed.

“It’s just… it kinda sticks out that you seem even more amused than the actual children playing with that. It’s supposed to be Ratatoskr, right?”

He didn’t expect anyone to notice, he had sat at enough distance that he couldn’t be related to what was going on, and he had a book on his hands so no one would relate his amusement to what’s going on.

The illusion vanished as he lost focus, surprised that you noticed him. He couldn’t hold back a soft laugh through his breath when a woman in her middle age let out a screech threatening to call the cops on an invisible talking squirrel. And to his surprise you laughed too.

“Man, I enjoy seeing your everyday soccer mom lose her marbles at whatever, but actively seeking their wrath takes courage.” You laughed.

You stretched out your hand and introduced yourself with a firm handshake which Loki surprised himself returning and giving away his actual name.

“W-Wait… like the Loki, Thor’s little brother… The Asgardian that… you know… over a decade ago did… you know?” you asked perplexed, not daring to say the actual thing.

Loki tense up, not knowing how you’d act next. For all he knows maybe the police force would end up showing up after all.

“Damn, so what they say is true” you shrugged. “You are a softie now.”

“What they say?” Loki gasped out indignant.

“Yeah, it was over the news a bit after the second snap, Ironman and your brother gave a press conference to explain you were in peace with Earth and it was Thanos’ brainwash.” You explained as a cheeky grin formed on your face. “Ergo, you are a softie.”

Loki was speechless. You knew who he was, you knew what he had done to New York, and yet you were poking the bear with a stick without an ounce of fear in your expression.

“Listen well, mortal, I–” Loki huffed.

“Pfft! I didn’t know Gods blushed.” You laughed heartedly.

“Hang on just a minute!” Loki protested as he became aware of the heat on his cheeks “I am–”

“Surprisingly fun to be around.”

He opened his mouth and closed it again as he found himself with no witty retort for your teasing.

“Thank you, I suppose” was all he could say, with less spite than he usually had when he spoke with mortals.

“I was gonna go grab a bite, wanna join? It’s a bit boring eating alone” you offered.

His stomach growled and he took the offer, partly because he was very hungry and both you had caught his curiosity. You were an odd one, that was for sure.

“So…” you wondered. “Is it true you’re staying with the Avengers?”

“Why do you wanna know?” he asked back.

“Curiosity” you smiled.

A question like that could’ve easily triggered an alarm, but for some reason it didn’t. And you didn’t lie.

“Yes, my brother decided to join the quarters to live with his friends and he took me with him” Loki admitted.

“Took you with him? Like an updog?” you arched an eyebrow in a way that made him feel slightly sheepish.

“Excuse me? What’s that?”

“What’s what?”

“Updog.”

“What about it?”

“What is updog?”

“Not much, what’s up with you?” you wheezed before letting out a dorky laugh.

Despite the fact that the All-Speak did not allow him to understand a place’s lingo he understood he had fallen for a stupid Midgardian joke.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I had to try, oh… oh god, I hadn’t met a anyone who didn’t know that one yet, but I had to try. I like you already.”

Now he was convinced, you were definitely an odd one. Not only did you not fear him, but you were bold enough to pull practical jokes on him and teased him for falling for it. It got on his nerves.

But he couldn’t help but follow you around. You kept teasing him the entire trip to a sandwich shop.

“What do you want to eat?” you smiled.

Loki stared awkwardly at the menu, he recognized some of the ingredients, but he had never been to a place like this. And he wasn’t used enough to human food to make an informed choice.

So, you stepped up and asked him a couple of questions about the food he liked and made a choice for him.

“You can punch me in the arm if it’s not good” you winked at him.

Loki surprised himself smiling at you.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

But it was really good. It wasn’t anywhere near as refined as what he was used to eat, but it was surprisingly good. And you even paid for his food, which spared him the uncomfortable conversation over why he had no money despite leaving in a millionaire’s house.

“Hey, I live a bit far away, do you mind accompanying me home?”

Loki wasn’t sure why he accepted, but he found himself following you around, risking getting lost in New York City since he didn’t really know the area that well just yet. But he got on the bus with you and followed you home.

Which to his surprise… was the compound he himself lived in.

“Wait… D-Did you…?”

Loki felt betrayed. Of course. He should have known Stark would send an agent to find him, no one really trusted him, and they had to assign him a nanny to make sure he–

“I’m glad I ran into you” You spoke, interrupting his train of thought. “I still feel anxious coming so far out of the city alone, sorry if I cut your trip short.”

That caught him off guard. Were you not follow him? He didn’t sense a lie, but perhaps he was still a bit distracted.

“You mean you found me by accident?” Loki asked.

“Yeah, I’m not used to the headquarters being a home, so I need to get out to stretch my legs every once in a while. Otherwise, I feel… I don’t know.”

“Imprisoned.” You finished, as Loki’s lips let out the exact same word in almost a perfect synchronization.

Again, no lie.

“Hah… yeah” you smiled. “Sorry, I probably sound like a brat, complaining about living in such a big place.”

“No, I understand perfectly.” Loki found himself say in soft tone.

Loki walked with you inside and accompanied to your room. The sight when you opened the door was rather dismal. Just a small bed, a desk. But the bed was interesting, or more like what was on top of it. A stuffed little bear with a green bow on its neck, and a travel bag. He assumed they did go with Director Fury’s intention of having the trainees educated like soldiers until they completed their training.

After that day he felt more interested on helping with the training of newer recruits, thing he crushingly refused to do before meeting you. But it was his excuse to see you more. And as he imagined, you were among the best recruits. You weren’t the strongest, nor the fastest, and definitely not the tallest given some mutants came to be even taller than him. But you were agile and flexible, and you worked harder than anyone else to make up for any shortcomings you could have.

And you were smart, the smartest in the group. Loki had seen Stark give tests to the recruits and your results always came among the best, and more often than not, you were on top of those results.

“You did it again” Loki would congratulate you.

“It’s just a number on a paper” you always replied back, “that doesn’t mean I am going to be good on the world out there.”

“And yet your leg is bouncing with excitement” Loki pointed out.

You laughed and placed a hand to your knee to make it stop.

“The ego boost is still appreciated” you replied, a bit sheepish.

You were his favorite of all the recruits. Not that it was a title most competed for, a lot just gave him wary looks when it was his turn to train recruits, after all who wanted to have the man who once terrorized Earth as the class teacher. But you always helped to control the group, willingly volunteering for sparring with him for demonstrations and even while everyone else got a partner you chose him, even when that meant it’d be ten times more difficult than picking another mutant.

But once again, that allowed him to get closer to you.

“I’m telling you, it’s magic!” you assured him pointing to the water bottle as you sat next to him.

“Sure, it is.”

He knew you had no magic. He had read your files –for purely professional reasons, like personalizing– and knew of your abilities. But he also had no clue how you had shoved a coin bigger than the bottles neck all the way to the bottom.

But he didn’t like that playful giggle of yours, it always meant trouble.

“Look inside if you don’t believe me.” You said placing your eye on the bottle orifice to get a better look at the coin.

He sighed and mimicked what you had done, pressing his eye to the bottle’s finish to get a better look and see if he could figure something to get it out.

“I don’t see–”

In a second you had squeezed the bottle and splash him in the face. Which was noticed by a few recruits that let out quiet laughs, unlike you who were giggling shamelessly at his expense.

“You! You... traitorous, cheeky, despicable, insolent–” Loki huffed as he latched onto your ribs and squeezed them repeatedly making you double over in laughter.

You batted his hand gently after about a minute as you regained his composure.

“Oh god, you’re my favorite thing ever, it’s been years since these pranks stooped working on everyone else” you laughed.

Loki huffed. “I wasn’t living here years ago.”

“Oh, I know that’s what makes it funnier” you laughed and patted his shoulder.

Other trainees were looking at him amused, but he noticed they seemed a lot less tense now. As if some of that fear they had was gone. It was… weirdly nice. So, he just sighed and rubbed his face with sleeve to dry himself off.

“You cannot expect me to go easy on you after your little stunt” he asked as he stood up.

“Mm, it’s already, I like rough treatment anyway” you winked at him.

That made some other people in the room as Loki’s cheeks heated up lightly. But he still smirked.

“We’ll see about that in a few minutes, won’t we?”

You were also what humans called, the class clown. And your favorite thing was to prank him. It was all harmless stuff, like when you started a game the entire class to start a game every time, he used Asgardian or just outdated expressions like “Norns” or “Heavens.” Or that time you taped giant googly eyes to your chest, so he had a hard time giving a lecture as he got the urge to laugh every time he glanced at you, and even had the audacity to tell him, “Hey, my eyes are up here!” as you bounced, making the googly eyes bounce all over the place. That time where you filled his locker with confetti and balloons.

It was embarrassing because despite he’s nature, he had no way to get back at you. His illusions didn’t faze you one bit, and the concept of pranks for a god weren’t particularly safe for humans, your style was weirdly benign, and he couldn’t match it. And everything he tried repeating from your pranks wasn’t really surprising.

He used to think nothing could ever bother you at all… Until he was wrong.

He found you one night by the roof, sitting with your legs hanging on the edge, but the little border made a secure railing that kept you safe. You had been gone for hours, even skipping training, and he saw a half empty bottle of Vodka behind you.

“What are you doing here?” he asked as he sat beside you.

“Wasting time, and Tony’s reserves” you joked bitterly. “Watching the forest.”

“It is a lovely night” Loki admitted. “But you were missed at today’s sparring. It is obvious I’m not nearly as tolerable without you around.”

“Just relax, they’ve already warmed up to you” you sighed. “No one likes a stiff teacher.”

It was true hay whenever you made him laugh everyone else seemed to ease up as well. He always attributed to your natural charm and that you relished embarrassing him. But… people were a lot less wary around him lately.

“What made you skip?” he asked.

“It’s the 13th anniversary since my mutation manifested” you sighed and you reached your arm into the sky, it stretched for a few meters before it regained its normal shape.

“I thought people here celebrated that” Loki inquired. “You act as if a partner abandoned you.”

“I don’t know, I think I miss being normal… well, more normal” you chuckled humorlessly. “Not feeling like an actual monster.”

Loki could relate to that, realizing that you are different means you will never wake up with the same concept of yourself, because as it turns out, you are a mistake, a cosmic improbability and turns out, you’ve never been like anyone else around you.

“You are not monster, you’re a–”

“Oh right, because mutant sounds so much nicer.”

“Does it upset you?” Loki asked. “Being the way you are?”

“Yes. No. A little? I don’t know, it’s like a dream living in the Avengers home.” You sighed. “But… don’t you ever get the feeling that rather than wanting to have you around they’re just don’t want you to go rogue? I mean, I get it, with all that’s happening with the Banshee black market…”

Loki couldn’t help but laugh at that. If anyone understood what you felt, that was him. You were a mutant, which granted was becoming much more transcendental these days. More with the mutation enhancing drugs circulating, SHIELD and other organizations were putting a lot of energy to make sure less mutants went on a rampage. But none of you actually had major lists of crimes on their backs, unlike Loki. If anyone was being monitored that was Loki.

Even if he was technically an official Avenger already, it always felt like it was all because of his connection with Thor and at most that he was already highly trained, better than most other Avengers.

“I assure you that they do not think that of you.” Loki spoke reassuringly. “The Incorporations of Mutants Program is simply to remove mutants from a dangerous environment.”

“Yeah, free of Banshee and even add some mutant soldiers to their ranks, it’s a win-win situation” you spoke bitterly.

A part of him felt weirdly nostalgic. His mind took him back to the treasure vault of Asgard, his words reverberating on the walls: «So I am no more than another stolen relic, locked up, here until you might have use of me?» And now, more than a decade later, he found himself defending his father. This was just the same, you weren’t necessarily wrong… but it only a piece of the picture, the hurtful bit of a picture.

“You’re right to feel that way.” Loki spoke reassuringly. “But know that these people care about you… even if their original intentions aren’t as selfless. Trust me, I would know.”

“That’s surprisingly mature for a prince that’s technically younger than me.”

He felt his cheeks warming up to your comment and scoffed out a laugh. Of course, even in a vulnerable moment you wouldn’t let the chance pass to tease him.

“What can I say? I am not just devilishly handsome, charming, and tremendously intelligent,” he smiled, “there’s gotta be some wisdom to balance it all out.”

That made you laugh in that way that made his heart flutter in his chest. And before he knew it, you had rested your head on his shoulder. He felt his cheeks heat up and a smile make its way to his face. Had it always been so difficult concealing his excitement?

“You forgot humble and down to earth” you chuckled and rolled your eyes.

“What can I say, darling?” he smiled, “I’m a perfect man, I am completely irresistible.”

“And you still can’t get a date” you smile nudging his side.

“Not my fault there” Loki chuckled, “I’m quite particular when choosing a lover.”

“Right, and you being insufferable has nothing to do with it” you smiled as you grabbed his side and gave him a few squeezes.

The feeling made him jolt and let out a strangled gasp. Of course, you little brat always took advantage of this silly weakness of him ever since you found out.

He remembered the day you found out, quite vividly.

It was a holiday, so most recruits were out for a couple of days with either family, friends, or a new fling. Even some of the Avengers with friends out of the compound left for a few days. So, it was the super soldiers, the Maximoff twins, Vision, Thor, Loki, and you.

Your family had left for a trip, so you had no reason to leave the compound. Loki was thrilled that he would have you practically to himself. He felt those butterflies deep within his chest every time he saw you alone in a room. Of course, he kept his cool as best he could, still being the same mischievous charmer he’s always been, despite feeling like a giddy kid at the sight of you.

Even the most ordinary of mornings were blissful with you around. Even things like breakfast you could always make a monotone activities fun. Like right now, making Thor and the Maximoff twins laugh and sing around with you while you were whipping pancake mix on a bowl. It was some sort of little dance party while you cooked.

Loki couldn’t help but stare and chuckle softly.

“Loki, good morning” you smiled as poured some mix on a frying pan. “Wanna join us for breakfast?”

“Is it required for me to squirm around like a possessed worm like you’re doing?” he joked.

“Yes, it is imperative that you do, otherwise the pancakes will come flat” you quipped back with a cheeky smile.

“Come on brother, I know Midgard dancing is very different from what we used to see at home,” Thor intervened, “But it is quite fun, give it a try!”

“That’s the attitude, Thor-nderstorm” you grinned as you continued to dance.

“In that case I think I’ll just do with some coffee” he cleared his throat as he spoke.

“Come on, brother” Thor insisted, shameless —or rather, clueless— as usual. “It’s fun!”

“Hey, no shame if he can’t do it” you said, “Not everyone can dance.”

Loki laughed.

“If you call that «dancing», I’ll let you know I am actually a great dancer” he stated, just so you knew.

“Loki, if someone has to inform me of their traits, I have learned not to believe that.” You challenged him.

He looked away, focusing on the black liquid dripping into the coffee pot, trying to think of anything else that wasn’t you. Just the coffee, dark, bitter, that he had to keep himself from drinking before bed or it’d deprive him of sleep... Just the way you…

“ACK—!” he was brought back by the squeeze on his sides that made him jump and hold back a yelp.

He was ready to yell at Thor, when he saw the outstretched arms and you looking at him from the other side of the kitchen, the hands returned to your hips. Everyone was looking at him.

“Oh, you’re back” you saw his rosy cheeks a bit confused. “Honey?”

“Excuse me?”

“What do you want your pancakes with? Honey?”

“Uh- I… I- no… Um, I didn’t— I…” he couldn’t even look at you.

But you gave him a reassuring smile.

“I recall you like them with honey” you smiled, “It’s Thor that likes them with maple syrup.”

“That’s correct” Thor beamed happily.

“Don’t finish it all you hoarder” Pietro quipped as he wrestled with the blond for the bottle of syrup.

He sighed quietly, thankful that they had moved onto the next subject. He served himself his cup of coffee and just when he was going to turn around, he felt a hand on his shoulder, and that gently traveled all the way down his side and caused him to shiver.

He looked at you with daggers in his eyes before checking on the rest that were focused on eating and didn’t notice anything, thankfully. You just look at him and chuckled, before handing him a plate with neatly piled up pancakes with honey and some a small mix of berries you knew he liked.

“I didn’t know all Gods were so ticklish, I thought it was a Thor thing” you whispered. “…Good to know.”

You might as well have buried him alive after that. But, to his surprise you didn’t tell anyone. No one brought it up, not even Thor, who was already painfully aware of how cripplingly sensitive Loki was. No, and the anticipation killed him for the next day or two.

You didn’t bring it up once until one night you had the entire compound to yourselves. The doctor Foster had invited Thor over to «watch movies», not that anyone bought that for a second, the Scarlet Witch had gone on a date with the Vision, Barnes and Rogers were out on a party thing and had taken the Maximoff brother with him to further introduce him as part of the team. So, it was you and Loki completely alone.

You were reading on the couch on the weirdest positions, with your head upside down and the book inelegantly hanging on the air as you red upside down with your back arched as it seemed you’d fall out of the couch any second.

He grinned. It was the perfect chance to get you back. He made sure to be very quiet as he approached you and moved very slowly so you wouldn’t notice him —human earbuds were a blessing for his mischief, but they were not infallible— and right when he was towering over you. He squeezed both your sides.

“AAAAAAHHH!” you screeched as you fell off the couch.

Loki looked over to where you were laying on the floor where you had a hand over your heart.

“Loki! You nearly gave me a heart attack!” You scolded him.

What? No blush, no squeaky voice, no stuttering, no nervous shifting or even a giggle? No nothing? Were you that good at playing dumb? No way.

“What was that for?”

“I am sorry, I simply can’t resist when someone is vulnerable like that” Loki shrugged it off and sat on the couch, hoping you wouldn’t ask him to elaborate. “What are you reading?”

You sat back up next to him and showed him the baby blue book with pink letters and a couple kissing on the cover. One of those romance novels you liked.

“Is that the one you told me about?” Loki asked.

“It’s the one” you grinned and noticed the book beside him. “What are you reading?”

“Just old Asgardian poetry” he said, showing you the book, despite knowing you don’t speak Asgardian. He noticed the look you gave him, with an arched eyebrow and a smug grin, “It’s old even for me. Just old love poems.”

Your eyes sparkled like absolute diamonds, and you scooted closer to him, your face just inches from his. “Can you read one to me?”

He felt his cheeks flush at your excitement, and the clumsiness. But he cleared his throat and opened it on the poem he was reading. But he decided to be smug and read it just like it showed, in old Norse.

“Oh, so funny.” You growled and jabbed his sides.

Loki nearly jumped out of his skin and barked out a laugh. A laugh that didn’t go unnoticed given you quickly followed that same movement that had made him squirm. He very did a very poor job at concealing his reaction.

His brain quickly felt fuzzy, he could feel his restrained laughter echoing in his chest, and even still a few snickers were slipping out. His arms felt like worms just clumsily trying to find your hands to push you away. His face was impossibly hot and surely a dark shade of red at this point. His mind was on its knees begging for him to succumb and allow his body to laugh. And that’s exactly what he did when your hands sneaked past his arms and gently wiggled against the skin on his armpits.

“Wahahait! Stohohohop that!” he laughed.

“So that’s what your laugh sounds like” you teased him. “Hm… it’s actually kinda cute.”

“Stohohop this or ehehehehelse!” he latched his hands to your forearms but found that he didn’t even have the strength in himself to push you away.

Maybe it was that subliminal fear that he knew how fragile humans were. Maybe he was just that stupidly ticklish. Or… maybe your fingers were warm, and soft… and you had never given him this much attention.

He had fallen back on the couch, and you sat on his waist, straddling him with your legs on each side, and your hands were now exploring every bit of his torso to see what got him to laugh the hardest, your eyes were looking for every reaction, and your words were dedicated solely to tease him. He truly had you all for himself right now.

And it was driving him crazy.

“Mohohohortal! Cease this ahahahahat once!” he cackled. “It’s ahahahahan ordeheher!”

“Oh?” you smiled in a made that made his insides tingle, “I don’t think you’re in any position to make that call~”

Your thumbs dug into his hipbones that made him arch his back as he let out a loud screech and followed by a stream of guffaws. You laughed along with him, and it almost made this torture worth it.

Worth it, not more bearable.

“Plehehehease, no more! I surrender!” he laughed as he clumsily slapped your forearm in what he had learned was a sign of giving up.

“Wait, seriously” you asked, a bit surprised that you had actually gotten to him.

“Yehehehes, please, I yieheheheld!”

And thank gods it worked. You immediately stopped tickling him and helped him sit back up.

“You okay there?” you smiled at him, and his only response was tackling you to try getting some well-deserve revenge.

Ever since that night you had tormented every once in a while, by tickling him silly whenever you felt like it. But somehow you always had the decency to make it behind closed doors, where no one could see him laughing like an idiot at the mercy of a mortal simply tickling him. And… laying on your bed at late hours was very much worth it, the books he brought to read for you could always wait.

Loki and you chatted for a few hours and soon you sober up enough which relaxed Loki enough, but he noticed your conversation turned more melancholic, contrasting with your grumpy drunk rant earlier. You talked about your family, old jobs, and a department you owned before moving in on the compound.

“Can I tell you something funny?” you smiled sadly, and he nodded. “I miss being ticklish.”

“Well darling, I think that’s been enough alcohol for you.” Loki said as he grabbed the bottle and made it vanish away from you.

“I mean it!” you laughed.

“You’re insane.”

“It’s… I used to laugh so easy… Now every poke, every squeeze, every jab…” you poked your side and your finger sunk in your skin. “It’s… I don’t know… absorbed? I don’t feel anything like I used to.”

He remembered, the time you tickled him silly, how he attempted to get revenge, and how poorly it ended for him.

He latched his hands to your sides and squeezed you thoroughly. He crawled his hands over your belly, he pinched your ribs, and skittering his fingers under your arms. He experimented on every inch of your body.

But at most you gave him a soft breathy laugh, more amused than ticklish induced.

“Sorry Loki, I’m not that ticklish” you smiled trying to be apologetic, but you seemed more amused.

Your armed stretched and wrapped in circles around his bicep to pin his arm upward and still stretched enough to reach and tickle under his arm.

Needless to say, this time he didn’t get a break so easily.

“I doubt there is any actual downside to being the way you are” Loki encouraged you, “I’d give anything to not be… you know…”

“Cripplingly ticklish?” you smiled and elbowed his side making his face flush.

Norns, where had the days gone when he used to be a charming silver-tongued flirt? He used to be swooning men, women, and mythical beings alike, but your silly teasing for some reason had him blushing like a young boy.

“I-It’s… not how I would have phrased that…”

“I would” you cut him off with a giggle and poked his ribs, making him jump and barely hold back a squeak. A squeak.

“Right… Nowhere near the point I was trying to make” he sighs.

“I know… I just miss that intimacy” you sighed.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, tickling was fun when I was little, it’s a nice way of being close to others” you sighed as you rested your head against his shoulder. “And I wish I could have that. Usually I get «no, it’s unfair since you’re not ticklish» and well… No more fun for me.”

Close to others.

He gulped at the warmth of your body as you leaned on him. His heart was racing, his hands were sweaty, his face was burning, he felt a knot in his throat and his breath was hitching.

“Tickle me then.”

“What did you say?!”

What did he say?!

Loki had been through the toughest training regimes growing up, he’d been deadly injured in battle countless time before he even turned 1000 years old, he’d withstand the most merciless tortures, and had been clinically dead more than once. But ever since he was little the one thing he couldn’t stand, was getting tickled. It was so bad to the point where the only people who could tickle him were his parents and Thor… who also had the advantage of being about three times stronger than Loki.

He remembered vividly the last time he was tickled past his limit he had lost control of his magic and unintentionally sent Thor to the healing room for two days (although he had been too proud to admit it had been an accident). The fact that you had left your last encounter tickling him unscathed was a miracle.

“Are you serious?” you asked him, looking at him suspiciously.

Truthfully, he didn’t know if he was. He was so convinced he hated being tickled, that he couldn’t understand why the idea actually felt… Exciting? Appealing? He tried convincing himself it was just the idea of having your hands on him.

“Yes, how bad can it really be?” Loki nearly wanted to die when he felt his voice crack in nervousness, and he had to clear his throat. “You’re just a human, after all.”

“Oh, is that so?” you chuckle. “Mm, I might take you on that offer then.”

You squeezed his side and his breath hitched.

“W-Wait, don’t!” he gasped and grabbed your hand.

“Oh, here better?” you grinned and used your other hand to squeeze above his knee, which made him jolt and grab your other hand by reflex.

“Gods, you do not make this easy” he chuckled softly.

“We don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable” you smiled genuinely. “I still appreciate the intention.”

The disappointed look on your face was all the motivation he needed, he pulled you towards him and sat facing you, guiding your hands to his sides as he felt his face burning. How terminally insane had he gone?

“Do it before I change my mind” he said firmly.

“Pfft!” you giggled, “You’re crazy.”

“It would seem so” he smiled. “Let’s get this over with…”

You chuckled and you started skittering your fingernails along his sides. Loki’s jaw tensed immediately as he felt his lips started twitching upward.

“Aww… you’re so ticklish, Loki” you smiled as you kept tracing your fingers up and down his sides, from his hips to his upper ribs. “It’s so charming.”

He cursed his choice of wardrobe today, and Midgardian fashion in general, he could have used a good layer of his Asgardian leather armors. Now a cotton shirt and black jeans served him very little as your finger tormented his sides.

And he was starting to giggle already.

“Yohohohou’re such a pehehehehest!”

“C’mon… it is pretty cute how you laugh,” you smiled, “your voice is so deep but your giggles are so light.”

“I’m nohohohot cute! Hehehe- Hey! Dohohohn’t touch thehehehere!” he giggled when your hands wiggled towards the sides of his belly.

“Oh, your pwetty tummy is so ticklish, isn’t it?” you cooed doing bloody baby talk, “You so cute~”

“Stohohohohop!” he guffawed. “Do nohohot patronize mehehehe!”

He hated how well you had learned how sensitive his stomach was. You had tickled him about three times total prior to this peak of insanity, but the weak spot that was his entire abdomen didn’t go unnoticed from the first time.

“I’m sorry, it’s so hard not to tease you when you have such a cute way of laughing.”

“I’m nohohohohot! Stop sahahaying that!” he protested between laughs.

“You should see yourself” you smiled at him. “The way you scrunch up your nose and stick your tongue out ever so slightly is so endearing!”

“Shuhuhuhut up!” he laughed as he bent over to try protecting his belly from your fingers.

You were being so gentle to him, simply skittering your fingers over his shirt. Being anyone else, that might have just gotten a few giggles out, but he was so ridiculously ticklish, especially there. That this delicate taunt to the skin had him hysterical.

“No mohohohore!” he pleaded, “Not thehehehere!”

“Not where?” you asked innocently. “Here?”

And you poked gently over the patch of skin right below his navel.

“Cuhuhut it out! Gehehet away from my stomahahahach!” he cackled, “I’m behehegging you!”

For some reason you decided to listen and move from his gut, moving to poke and knead his ribs, even doing those unbearable ticklish pinches around him.

You had a hellish ability to have him in stitches.

It kept going for a while, you would explore a spot, have him giggling like a child and then move onto the next to start over, not giving him a chance to get used to any sensation or spot.

“Dahahahahahahahaharling, plehehease!” he laughed, “thahahat’s so bahahahad!”

Seemingly that phrased worked and it stopped you giving him the chance to catch his breath, he placed a hand over his chest, feeling it rise and fall as he tried refilling his lungs with air.

“You little imp!” Loki panted “I was being so nice to you!”

“So was I” you smiled, “I’ve tickled you before, you know how bad it can be.”

Surely you were right, but the way you said it, almost like a promise, made Loki’s cheeks flare up, not that it would’ve been noticeable given how his face was flushed from laughing.

“You’re a menace” he chuckled, as he ruffled your hair “How come I’ve grown so fond of a little nuisance like yourself?”

“What can I say? I’m irresistible like that” you laughed as you rested your head against his arm.

He chuckled as he felt a lingering warmth spreading from where you were resting against his arm to his chest.

“Maybe you are” he sighed with a smile. If only you knew.

“Loki… can I ask you something?” you looked up at him.

“What is it?”

“Are you happy… living here?” you asked. “Or… have you never thought of running away?”

His face darkened. It made sense, but the idea of you thinking of him as a potential traitor stung worse than every awful thing said to or by him in stupid fights with Thor or his parents when the arguments got heated.

“Why do you ask?”

“Well, you lived in a castle, with luxury, prestige, fame and power” you spoke, “isn’t this too little for you? Don’t you feel trapped?”

Now that reasoning he didn’t expect. He smiled at you fondly.

“You make me sound like a spoiled brat” he chuckled.

“Aren’t you?” you chuckled.

“Of course not, I am the epitome of humility” he claimed, making you laugh. “But… answering to your question… I used to feel trapped, every day I’d be plotting my escape, how to make my great escape.”

“And we won't hear a word they say…” you chuckled.

“What?” he smiled.

“Nothing, The Great Escape is a song, continue” you smiled.

“And trust me… at first… I tried, they didn’t take long to catch me analyzing their security systems and patrolling schedules in a chance to sneak out. I was given so many last warnings and caused Thor so much trouble. Until… eventually I realized… I had nowhere to run to” Loki spoke sadly, “And eventually I stopped trying, this was all I had, and I had to make the best of it. At least my brother was around…”

“Aw, so you do care about Thor” you smiled as you nudge his side.

“I did not say that, and you are not to tell him that” Loki spoke in a fake seriousness. “His ego is big enough as it is.”

“Oh, you’re criticizing him about his big ego.” You laughed, and Loki’s heart fluttered, “You should tell him, he would be very happy that his little brother loves him.”

“Perhaps I will one day” Loki smiled, resting his cheek on the top of your head. “Now, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted…”

“Diva” you muttered under your breath, making Loki chuckle.

“…Eventually I resigned to living here,” he continued. “And one day, the Incorporation of Mutant Program was introduced.”

“I’m still not over the fact that we were named the IMPs” you laughed, making Loki snicker.

“Are you kidding? That was the only thing I considered salvageable of you all at the time.” Loki joked, earning a poke on the ribs from you, “…Among the other Avengers I was requested to instruct the recruits. Which I refused to do.”

“And then you met me” you smiled.

“And then I met you.” Loki agreed. “Which made it all more bearable, you at least provided me with some challenge and entertainment.”

“That’s a really twisted way to say you like me” you chuckled.

If you only knew…

“Would you believe me if I said I did?”

“That’s fair.”

The triggered something in him, a moment of bravado that made him want to risk everything and tell you.

“Are you sure of that?” he asked, as he gently placed a finger under your chin, and pulled for you to look at him. “Even if I said you drive me completely crazy?”

Oh, the look of shock that adorned your now blushing features was delicious.

“Even if I said that I think about you on every waking moment, and that just for the sake of that smile of yours I’d withstand the most barbarous tortures… That for the longest time now you’ve had my heartstrings wrapped around your fingers, playing me like a puppet at your will just for the sake of you one day maybe looking at me the way I look at you.”

“What…? Wh— L-Loki… I— you—!” you stuttered.

Your face was red, but you didn’t seem repelled by his confession. Thank goodness. He thought maybe giving you some time to organize your words was the best thing he could do.

“Why me?” you finally asked.

“Why not?”

“I’m not particularly strong, powerful or attractive” you stated. “Even among just the other recruits.”

“I beg to differ, it takes a lot to render a god helpless like you did earlier.”

“Because you allowed me to” you retorted.

“Because I am crazy about you” Loki said gently.

“Why?”

“You’re stubborn, you get on my nerves all the time, you question and defy my authority every chance you have, and you have no fear of the consequences of crossing a god, especially one with my history.” Loki chuckled. “That takes a lot of courage.”

You smiled at him shyly, and oh gods, the amount of self-control it took not to tackled you and kiss the daylights out of you was ridiculous.

“You are funny, and witty, you have these innocent eyes that make me want to blindly believe you every time you pull one of your stupid pranks on me.”

“And you fall every time” you smiled as the pink shade returned to your cheeks.

“I fall every time” he whispered with a gentle nod. “I fall every time you smile, every time you laugh and every time you look at me as if I was someone interesting and worth getting to know better.”

“You are worth getting to know better… Hell, you’re worth risking a friendship for…”

“Risking a friendship— Mmph?!”

Before he could process what you had done he was already melting against your lips that were sweetly pressed against his.

He felt your fingers sneaking behind him, brushing gently against his neck, which made him laugh softly against the kiss before they continued their journey to his head, where they started playing with his hair in a way that caused him to swoon. In return he placed his hands on the small of your back, brushing his thumbs against you.

And you let out a giggle.

“What was that?” he asked amused.

“W-Wait, do it again!” You smiled brightly.

Loki smiled and brushed his fingers gently across your back and you let out a little giggle.

“It tickled!” You exclaimed.

“Oh did it…?” he smiled and experimented by gently scratching your sides and belly, just soft caresses with his blunt nails over your skin.

And you were giggling like a happy kid.

“Would you look at that…” Loki taunted you. “The little springy mortal is ticklish after all.”

You just rested against his chest as he tickled you, not protesting or squirming at all, just happy giggles. He supposed it made sense, pokes, squeezes, and jabs did nothing, but your skin was still sensitive enough to react to caresses, and it turned out it was all he needed. He took his sweet time exploring every little spot on your body that made you giggle.

Perhaps tickling was fun after all.

| Masterpost |

[testedcatdraws]

DRDT Chapter 2 Episode 13 episode is premiering in 6 days, here's my predictions before it premiers.

This is mostly going to be speculation, though some of this will be based on facts not all of it will.

Lets knock off the obvious first, Levi is going to trauma dump. (OK, the rest of this is less obvious) I'm guessing he either killed one of his family members or a family friend. Levi said his family were a bad influences, so maybe they were all toxic to each other? Due to this Levi ends up killing one of them (or their friend) due to them attacking him emotionally (or physically). The secret does say that he's a murderer, not just that he killed, which means that what he did was illegal and thus not in self defense. If it was in self defense the murder itself wouldn't be in self defense if that makes since. This would explain why Levi was then cut off, since he's a threat to the family, though since he said it was better this way it could be that the toxicity was connected to him somehow. Maybe his mother died giving birth to him which caused the family to blame him

I think Levi would also be proven not the killer due to how obvious it is, and his murder would probably be explained in a way that shows he wouldn't just kill in cold blood. Like maybe a scenario above, this isn't to say that'll justify his murder but that he not as much of a threat as he'd seem. I'm pretty sure part 2 is suppose to be long so having the murderer be revealed now would be strange too.

Considering the CG shown, I think Teruko is probably going to go over how the murder was conducted. It's important to note that Arei could've been strangled and then hanged in a way to look like she had committed suicide. Assuming Arturo is correct in analyzing her dead body, even if Arturo isn't the killer we have to keep in mind he's a plastic surgeon, like Arturo says his job isn't analyzing dead bodies (or how ever he words it, I don't remember) so we should take his account with a grain of salt. He could always get something wrong due to his lack of knowledge in this subject. Due to this I don't think him getting stuff wrong necessarily means he's doing it on purpose either.

That's all I have.

[1moreff-creator]

Regarding your revised Eden!Culrpit Theory Post:

If you're okay answering this, why do you believe that people who believe Hu is the culrpit have to be reading her actions in bad faith? You said that Eden taking the tape means there's more physical evidence for her being the culrpit so arguments about her putting on a facade come from less of a place of bad faith.

However, Hu's wire is involved with the crime & there's no explanation for how it got there. 'Nico took it' but we don't necessarily know that or how, so there's arguably no less reason to assume Hu could be involved as well.

This isn't meant to be inflammatory either, I genuinely just want to understand what you meant by that; I'm impartial one way or another but I don't understand why you would need to be reading Hu's actions in bad faith while you wouldn't also be doing the same for Eden.

ty for answering if you do, and if not ty for reading anyway. ♥️

Hey! Yeah, honestly, I feel I expressed myself pretty poorly in that section of the post you’re referencing, in fact I’ve decided to edit it because I believe it came off as more aggressive and meaner than I intended it to. So it’s fair of you to ask for clarification.

CW: Eden!Culprit, discussion of murder attempt

Technically speaking, both theories revolving around Hu trying to kill someone and Eden!Culprit require some level of “bad faith reading”, in the sense that suspecting anyone of murder is going to make you look at most of what they say in a negative light. So I was wrong to use that term with Hu. I think a more accurate way of saying how I feel about it (and keep in mind this is just my opinion) is that “the level of scrutiny Hu and her lines are placed under is not justified by the concrete evidence of the case(s).”

That should make my feelings a bit clearer. I see the tape’s disappearance from the gym as near irrefutable evidence that Eden is the culprit, so I’m willing to bend and twist her lines of dialogue to fit the evidence. Dialogue has an openness of interpretation that the tape, in my opinion, doesn’t, though I get why that’s not how everyone feels about it.

However, I don’t quite see an equivalent for Hu. The wire in the Ace crime scene doesn’t incriminate her any more than the turpentine used incriminates Rose, or the letter written to Arei (by itself) incriminates Eden. I can pretty confidently say that either Ace or Eden took the tape from the gym; I cannot confidently say that Hu took the wire to the gym.

Despite Nico being caught mid-murder attempt (and they admit they did try to kill Ace), Hu is nowhere to be seen; none of her dialogue afterwards implies she was there; none of Nico’s dialogue points to her being there (their secret quote doesn’t count, we don’t know if that’s gonna be said this chapter or not); unless there’s some method theory I’m missing here, I’ve never really seen a method that requires Hu to be there alongside Nico, and Nico never denies being the one to take the turpentine, meaning they must have been involved since the start. You get the idea.

You need to somehow get around all of that if you’re going to believe Hu is involved in the Ace case, plus the fact that a lot of her dialogue seemingly contradicts the notion at first glance. Meanwhile, the only assumption Nico!SoloAceAttacker requires is that Nico, somehow someway, was able to take the wire at some point; and given there’s precedent to believe they can and would do something like that (turpentine), I find it quite easy to believe.

Obviously, it’s a matter of opinion. To some people, the wire is a smoking gun that proves Hu’s involvement, the same way I feel about the tape for Eden. And I guess, in that case, I can’t really blame them for reading Hu’s dialogue in a different manner. For me, though, the wire has perfectly acceptable workarounds. And I feel Hu being involved in either crime scene makes far more assumptions than simply saying Nico did everything themselves, which then by Occam’s Razor makes me inclined to believe the latter.

Thanks for the ask, and sorry if anyone felt hurt or offended by my original wording, it really wasn’t my intention.

[zenaidamacrouras1]

i think pre-war!bucky would also have a steve-clinginess anxiety scale, if he didn't have to constantly be aware of steve's prickliness. a modern pre-serum!steve would be significantly less prickly about everything, as he would encounter significantly less overt eugenics. more ability to be openly queer and having more ability to define his own masculinity would help too

post-serum doesn't have to be so guarded or guard his independence, and he's not constantly on the verge of being labelled queer, so he would have more leeway with initiating physical contant. and the buckies you write with a post-serum steve don't have anxiety disorders, lol. so i believe they would be a cuddly couple, and bucky's anxiety wouldn't express itself so clearly in steve-clinging

Hi friend! 👋 Interesting! You know what, I actually read pre-war Canon Steve as less prickly than many fans seem to.

I don't mind him being characterized as prickly and sometimes I absolutely adore it, but I don't necessarily see it as accurate in my little brain.

In CATFA we are seeing him on one of the worst weeks of his life. His best friend and maybe only friend and likely sole source of economic stability is about to go get maybe killed in war. So. Woof. I think he is absolutely at his worst. I can imagine him actually being pretty cuddly on a regular sort of day before Bucky got drafted.

Steve is not prickly, per se, post serum. He's tough. He's sarcastic. He doesn't like to be underestimated, but he's usually correct when he assumes people are underestimating him. He frequently forgets to value his own life. He's also very, very kind and very polite to people who aren't unmitigated dicks. I feel like these character traits would be consistent pre/post serum.

And the other thing we forget is that men used to be allowed to hug and even kiss tenderly (esp in some cultures). In Lord of the Rings which was written around WWII the men were allowed to be affectionate in a way that people today joke "ended toxic masculinity" but it's decades old. The toxic masculinity that the affection and devotion in LOTR "ended" didn't precisely exist when the LOTR was written.

Which is not to say things weren't bad. Just that men were allowed to be more affectionate with each other and have it be read as platonic (in part because women were seen as less then men).(Look I'm not an actual historian so this probably is not 100% accurate but I do touch on some of these themes in my Shakespeare fic -- it talks about historic concepts of marriage and same-sex affection that I researched extensively)

That being said, yes agreed, Steve would have had many awful pressures due to eugenics and anti-queer bias, but my thought is, he might have been comfortable cuddling up to Bucky platonically or otherwise...

Anyway, re my own writing, my earlier stuff has less consistent characterization. Don't trust anything I said back then. Just kidding. Mostly :)

Finally, in summary, hell yes cuddly couple. I'm all in on the Stucky cuddling head canon.

[essektheylyss]

I feel a bit uneasy because I feel like maybe the Hells were affirming Ashton’s self-flagellation. Like they get to be hurt and angry but sometimes it felt kinda like maybe it’s gonna make the self hatred worse in the long run.

But I can’t tell if that’s justified or my own projections.

It's certainly possible that it did affirm that, and I definitely agree that as a whole they weren't fighting it by any means, but FCG said it best: the Hells are messed up. They've left a lot of shit unaddressed beneath the surface in favor of smoothing over their interpersonal interactions, and most of them are really not in a state to be giving advice or considering how they're actually enabling each other. That seems like it may be changing now though, and I think FCG in particular did start to push back against this in some ways, but even he was understandably hurt by Ashton.

I wouldn't say I'm concerned about it though because I think this as a concept is actually... fairly baked into this genre and format. Every PC is the main character of their own story, and main characters, especially in this kind of world, tend to have plenty of damage to work through, which can clash in many ways. Obviously any story can explore how people who care about you can still be bad for you, but D&D especially ends up in that realm because of this.

At the same time though, this kind of issue doesn't necessarily need to be something that's addressed in conversation—the Nein didn't have to stage an intervention for Yasha after she let herself get beaten in the underground fight club for her to deal with the underlying issues herself.

And even when it doesn't involve just PCs this can come through; see Caleb's concerns about Essek, and their mutual potential for enabling each other's worst tendencies in terms of both self-interest and self-deprecation to the point of harm—and often both at the same time, if you look at the argument about Trent in Aeor. That was a situation where they did actually work through that somewhat directly, but even then it wasn't an explicit aspect of the conversation.

In general, the game itself tends to focus on themes of power and agency as a whole, which I think really lends itself to this kind of thing. It's very "with great power comes great responsibility," but that tends to also end up at the issue of like... not everyone handles power or responsibility well. So when you've got a bunch of chucklefucks in the same ten foot diameter hut or whatever, who are all wrestling with having both power and responsibility for the first time on top of a lot of other damage, they're probably gonna fuck it up before they can do better and those fuck ups are going to reverberate through the group. Which is honestly one of the things that makes it interesting!

That being said, this fallout has been a long time coming, and I think because of the Hells' unique levels of avoidance it's picking up a lot later than it did in previous campaigns which means the stakes are higher for figuring it out, but I'm really stoked to see where it goes, especially since Ashton at the very least has decided they can stick around for the time being.

[roseaesynstylae]

Star Wars: Republic Commando: Triple Zero, Chapter 6

I had a nice vacation.

I visited family. I soaked up the sun. I created an AO3 account and have been collecting bookmarks and posting short fic, so when I feel confident enough to link it, there'll be something substantial. I began reading my way through the High Republic. I started refining OCs that I might post fic about in a year.

And now I'm coming back to this.

(Hand to God, instant burst of rage when I opened the book.)

"In five millennia, the Mandalorians fought with and against a thousand armies on a thousand worlds. They learned to speak as many languages and absorbed weapons technology and tactics from every war. And yet, despite the overwhelming influence of alien cultures, and the absence of a true homeworld and even species, their own language not only survived but changed little, their way of life and their philosophy remained untouched, and their ideals and sense of family, of identity, of nation, were only strengthened. Armor does not make a Mandalorian. The armor is merely a manifestation of an impenetrable, unassailable heart.

-- Mandalorians: Identity and Language, published by the Galactic Institute of Anthropology"

That right there is complete bullshit.

No culture exists that long and interacts with others without being influenced in some way. Whether intentionally or unintentionally, they would pick up something. I know Star Wars doesn't necessarily involve itself with the nitty-gritty of worldbuilding, but...

Part of this feels like I'm overreacting to something small, but over the course of my vacation, I have lost what little willingness I had to be nice to Karen Traviss, her Mando Sues, and all the bullshit in this series. I'm sorry, but I'm going to be a bitch going forward.

Anyway.

There's something about this excerpt that really makes me feel like it's lording its (unrealistic and impossible) linguistic "purity" over everyone else. This is a case of "If this were a different author/book/series, I wouldn't be bothered."

Mando-Shilling: 2

I haven't even gotten to the actual content of the chapter yet and I'm metaphorically throttling this book. This is a bad sign.

"'General,' he said. He paused to nod formally at Etain, which -- given Skirata's general contempt for anyone not in armor -- seemed quite an encouraging start, Fi decided."

We are not pleased.

"'In here, ma'am.' He could make ma'am sound like girl somehow; he could do the same with General. But as a Jedi she had no right to feel affronted by the lack of deference. She realized that she simply wished he would like her. 'Just a little chat and you can find General Jusik and catch up on events.'

Yes, Skirata gave the orders."

Okay!

This isn't lack of deference; this is just being an asshole.

Oh, he can make ma'am sound like girl? Well, I can make Kal Skirata sound like eat shit and die.

"'In urban operations, a woman is always useful, Jedi or not. Another aid to invisibility -- old di'kute like me and females like you.'"

I hate you so fucking much.

It's a Man's World: 2

Like I said above, I have lost all patience for this series' bullshit. I'm going to go look at some pro-Jedi/Bad Batch content (my version of touching grass) and possibly assemble romantic prompts.

My last comment on this chapter?

Jedi-Bashing: 9

Mando-Shilling: 2

It's a Man's World: 2

Shut the Fuck Up, Kal: 1

Deltas, Move Out: 4

Mird, My Beloved: 3

Is This The Bad Batch?: 2

Main Post

[elvisabutler]

whole lotta woman needs a whole lot more

summary: austin's always been good with his mouth. austin normally is clean shaven. bikeriders means no shaving. you reap the benefits. fandom: austin butler rating: m pairing: austin butler x female plus sized reader ( you can read it in a non-plus sized way, but i specifically intended for it to be plus sized ) word count: 2087 warnings: facesitting. minor implications of sub austin. reader and austin mildly being simps for each other. semi-inexperienced reader in the realm of female oral? oh! also oral ( f receiving ). austin's facial hair because bikeriders is designed to make us all feral. author's note: welcome to day 26 of kinktober, facesitting with austin butler. this is late as all hell and took me longer than i intended but i do quite enjoy this piece. ideally i'm going to have more pieces out this weekend, possibly being able to finish off kinktober ( or kinkvember i guess now? ) but we'll see.

You have always been a little iffy on facial hair. Sometimes some men will pull it off beautifully, others just- well it looks like a sad collection of peach fuzz. As it turns out, Austin is someone who doesn't necessarily prefer growing out his facial hair so it's never been something you've had to necessarily worry about thinking about the particulars. Even when he did, it was more of a shadow of true facial hair or facial hair for a part. It was something easily dealt with.

Your friends though, your friends swore that you wouldn't have lived until Austin grew out his facial hair properly and ate you out. They knew that you and Austin- after a great deal of trial and error discovered a way to indulge in oral that made you feel comfortable with it. Austin had told you that it didn't necessarily matter how he got off- if he got off when he was eating you out because in his mind, that act was about pleasuring you versus pleasuring himself. So your comfort with the act was the only thing that truly mattered. It's why he had led you slowly into it, first on a couch, then at the edge a chair and a countertop and finally the edge of the bed and the bed itself. You've never tried to just ride his face in the bed but- you know why. You both know why even if you won't put it into words and Austin respects you enough not to push.

Still you figure everyone is being a bit silly about the whole thing when it comes to facial hair and oral. It couldn't be that different and even if it was, it was likely more uncomfortable than anything else, after all, beard burn on your face was bad, you couldn't imagine it on your vagina and on your thighs.

Austin had warned you that he might look a little different during your last phone call with him, a short affair that had him shouting that he was coming hold on to someone in the background and you wishing not for the first time lately that Austin had used FaceTime to call you even though he had said the reason he didn't is because one of you was always doing something that required you to not have the camera on anyway. So you had prepared yourself for at best a bit of fuzz on his face. Perhaps his hair was getting long enough that it was inching toward the long hair you kind of missed. Maybe his muscles had gotten a little larger, you figured, all the better to lift you up and keep you in his arms for longer. What greeted you in your kitchen when you came home from grocery shopping was genuinely nothing you could have even imagined.

"Hey baby." His voice sounds tired-exhausted even- but his eyes light up as he takes you in, taking note of the sundress you have on and wondering if you knew he'd show up and see you in it, see you lighting up his whole world. God, he had missed you.

Your eyes take in the way Austin's worrying his lower lip between his teeth and as a consequence your eyes also take in his facial hair. You had never seen him with this much, it's a whole goatee and beard combination that has your breath catching in your throat. You mange to squeak out a word in response. "Hi."

Austin's brow quirks up as he tilts head at your strange response. He's been gone this long and shows up looking this different and your response is just a single "hi"? That didn't make sense at all and so he looks at you, eyes trailing from your feet all the way up to your face. He stops at your chest for a moment, seeing how you seem to be taking slow measured breaths that you only take when you're turned on and wanting to hide the fact. When his eyes settle on your face he notices how your eyes are a little lidded and if he got close enough he's pretty sure he could see that your pupils are likely blown. Oh, so that was the problem. He could take that, he could enjoy that.

"Hi." He grins back at you, walking closer to you, pushing you against the counter and using his body to bracket yours against it. "Missed me?"

You bite your lip, breathing in through your nose like that will help the overwhelming desire you feel forming in the pit of your stomach. Austin's still looking at you with a glint in his eyes that has you very quickly realizing that you're going to need to answer him because he wil not let it go if you don't. Not trusting your voice, you nod.

His grin- the charming grin you're used to that's made you fall to your knees before morphs into a smirk as he bends his head down to kiss your neck, making sure his facial hair brushes against you. It's softer than you thought it would be and yet at the same time you can feel the burn of it, feel how it drags along your sensitive neck. Your breathing quickens.

"You missed me a lot, didn't you? You like the new look?" He murmurs against your neck, kissing a line up to your jaw where he just lazily mouths at it.

Your next breath is shaky as if it's trying and failing to contain every desire just looking at Austin's face is inspiring in you. It takes a moment but you finally are able to speak. "I do? Surprisingly? It's a good look on you."

The words come out in a rush and Austin chuckles lowly, his hand drifting down to between your legs, ruching up your dress until he can feel your underwear covered cunt. His fingers dance on the edge of the fabric. "You do?" He moves the underwear to the side just a bit before allowing a single finger of his to enter you. A hiss escapes your lips.

"I do." You choke out, your hips rolling just a bit. "Austin?"

"Hm?" He hums, allowing his finger to leisurely play with your folds, to trace them just slightly while smiling softly at you.

"If you don't pick me up and take me to bed, I think I may die in this kitchen. Or murder you, I don't know which." You spit out in a rush before biting at your lips and feeling a hint of shame at how quickly you said it. That shame is quickly overcome when you see just how delighted Austin is looking at you after you say it and how quickly- and easily- he lifts you up to carry you to the bed.

It's a flurry of thrown clothes and while you had planned on getting on the bed first, somehow Austin had beaten you and was staring at you with a look of dangerous intent on his face. You gaze at him with a frown before he speaks.

"i want you to sit on my face, baby." He says bluntly, his spit covered hand stroking his already hard cock, smearing precum and spit on the head. You shake your head before he holds up his hand. "No, I- please, baby, let me do it. Let me feel you fully on my face like that, no half in and half out sort of thing."

"Aus-" You start before you see his face. His stupid face pouting and looking more angelic than he has any right to look when his cock is in his hand.

"Please." He begs with one simple word and you find yourself sighing and moving to position yourself. Austin for his part shimmies down the bed enough to make it comfortable for both of you. Your thighs bracket his head, and you find yourself holding your body up too scared to actually sit as you look down at Austin.

"Austin- you- we- I don't want to-" You start and stop your sentence a million times. You're not self conscious about your weight, far from it, you've embraced it as a part of you, a part you know Austin adores. But you also know the realities of things, know that there's more to you than some girls and that can be a problem if you're going to be on top of someone. "We can just do it the normal way."

Austin's eyes tear themselves away from your practically dripping cunt with a low growl as he looks up at your face. "Stop worrying that you're going to suffocate me and sit on my face, babe."

"What if you need-" The question dies on your lips as Austin grabs at your thighs, his fingers digging in just a way that has you gasping.

"I'll tap these gorgeous thighs of yours and you'll get up. Babe. Darling- It's fine. I want to do this, I need to do this for you." Austin tone inches toward pleading as he grips your thighs tight enough that you know there's likely to be some bruising and you find you don't mind. You take a shaky breath as you lower yourself slowly, feeling at first the scratch of his facial hair, feeling it tickle your skin lightly but then you feel Austin's very familiar tongue and you find yourself sinking down lower, reveling in how Austin groans against your cunt, his tongue starting to move in the way that's familiar to you. It feels as if he's deeper- or if he's more involved. His nose brushes against your clit as he licks at you like a starving man, trying to savor every last bit of your arousal. His facial hair does not- burn as everyone seems to describe, instead providing a tickle- an added sensation as you focus on letting yourself go. In normal circumstances you wouldn't grind on Austin's face, finding it to be a little strange when he's got you hanging off the edge of the bed or the counter or wherever but now in this moment, you can't help the way your hips start to grind against Austin's mouth. He growls, his teeth nipping at your clit earning a sharp inhale and a choked off whimper from your lips. The quicker you feel his mouth move the more you're spurred on to grind, to chase the high your boyfriend is bringing you. You haven't felt him tap your thigh so you think you're safe- you marvel at why you ever stopped Austin from doing this before.

Maybe you were just waiting for the right time, maybe you were just waiting for this particular time when his face isn't clean shaven, when it's not just stubbled, no he's got actual facial hair you can play with, you can rub your hand and your cunt against. Your hands move down to his hair, finding purchase there as you feel his tongue sliding against you in just the right way and you feel yourself falling. Your orgasms normally take enough to build up to that you can sense them before they come but this hits you like a truck, barreling through your body and causing you to groan so low you swear you reach another register of your voice. Austin's tongue still is flicking against your twitching cunt, stimulating you in a way that is inching toward being too much so you force your legs to try and work, pulling Austin's hands off your thighs and moving off of his face.

You can see your fluids glistening against his beard, turning the shade of blonde just a bit darker in a way it only does when his hair is wet. It makes you feel a little- well, feral, to be honest something about the image pinging a territorial beast inside you that has you wanting to see that over and over before he has to shave it off. The thoughts you find yourself indulging in while looking at him are cut short but Austin's tiny laugh as he shifts and pulls you on top of him, a low sound coming from his chest.

"We'll talk more about that look I see on your face later. Think you can ride me a second time, baby?"

You grin and pull him in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips and smelling yourself in his facial hair. "And a third if you're lucky, Mr. Butler."

[kohubohu]

About Minthara's break up dialogue

(TLDR at the end)

My biggest fantasy would be Larian bringing it back reworked in patch 7 because it actively gave her the best reaction to rejecting Bhaal out of the entire party and it's such a good moment to give her more character development.

Tbh, I was never really mad at the dialogue existing in itself. It's just that it felt poorly executed and very incomplete, and it's annoying to think that they just removed it (it was bugged anyway, but you know), when there are multiple ways in which it could have been fixed, depending on if you consider the break up out of character or not.

Take 1: Her reason for breaking up is not OOC.

It's less that I'm mad about the dialogue itself, and more that I'm mad that you, as the player, are forced to stay kinda silent and powerless about it.

You know, I personally see rejecting Bhaal as a matter of regaining agency over your own person and your destiny rather than choosing the "good" path. My durge personally isn't good, and she'd still reject Bhaal to get her freedom back. When you think about it, it should resonate with Minthara due to her backstory with Lolth and the Absolute, but you know, we're all at risk of being hypocritical sometimes, especially in high pressure situation like these, so I don't necessarily see her reaction as being automatically OOC.

But if Larian were/are 100% set on going down that path for her, please at least give the player choices other than downplaying her anger or begging her to stay with you.

Downplaying her anger just feels shitty to me. She's absolutely right about being angry over the situation (for multiple reasons I'll explain in the alternative take). I've seen a few people commenting on my video about the break up on how she should be relieved instead of angry, and like... it's not a Karlach situation, you got resuscitated in front of her eyes by Withers. She would at least be fucking mad at you for doing that whole stunt lol.

Alternatively, begging her to stay with you just doesn't sit right with me. Like, idk, if my SO got mad and broke up with me for wanting to be free from a parent's toxic influence and control over the vague promise of maybe earning something from them but probably not, I'd 100% not want to be with them anymore lol.

Let's not even take her hypocrisy into account, it's not as if something bad would have happened to her if you rejected Bhaal (whereas accepting Bhaal just makes her a convenient breeding machine in his plan, and just sets her up into another abusive relationship where she's always at risk of being discarded anyway) (and you really don't want my opinion on that)

Her anger, when laid out and explained that way, just gives me the impression Durge is getting used to gain status and power, which is even worse considering you get her alurlssrin dialogue 10-15 minutes before the break up, which in turn kinda goes against the fact that her devotion/tenderness/love is a good chunk of her character development and cheapens literally everything surrounding her romance. It basically goes back to "minthara is a drow and therefore evil" and just goes back to unidimensional evil woman concept.

But you know, if they really wanted to punish you for rejecting Bhaal, the least they could do is to let the player call her out on that, or give them the opportunity to say the break up is mutual because what she just said is pretty fucking shitty, especially coming from her. Like, I personally wouldn't want to be with someone who want me to stay stuck in a toxic relationship, and being forced to make that choice is infuriating.

Take 2: Her reason for breaking up is OOC.

Or more accurately, there is more to the dialogue/situation than meets the eyes but Larian just kinda started something without finishing it.

Lots of people consider the dialogue as being OOC because she keeps touting Durge as being the heir of such a powerful god and is mad over the fact that they gave up the power Bhaal promised them, when she is vocally critical about gods and cults many times over the course of the game.

She clearly hates Lolth and the Absolute, calls Lolth's and Bhaal's followers victims. She disapproves of you praying to any god in act 3 (especially Lolth, which gives you -5 approval instead of -1) and will criticize you/your worship if you're a cleric. She encourages Gale to free himself of Mystra (or go against her orders) and assures him he doesn't need her, that gods need you to think you need them, just like the absolute. She says that Shadowheart freeing herself of Shar's influence is at least a bit of comfort after killing her parents, and encourages Shadowheart to get vengeance from Shar when she learns the truth from Aylin. She's outright ectastic when defeating Gortash, because they're "defying divinity" by killing the gods' chosen, and seems kinda, idk, smug? over the fact that so many gods seek the one thing they are in possession of.

However, there are a few moments (other than rejecting Bhaal) where she'll be pissed at you for going against the gods. She chastises Lae'zel if she rejects Vlaakith and calls it a "childish rebellion", and approves of her if she kills Voss instead, because she should know better than to anger a god. She criticize the player/the party (if you play as Shadowheart) for holding Shadowheart back from her destiny directly after sparing Aylin, and will tell Shadowheart that Shar was right for punishing her for it. That's basically the closest equivalent we have to Durge rejecting Bhaal. So like.... It could be because of power after all...?

But when you look into it: Minthara doesn't even hold it that hard against you when Shadowheart gives up power, hell, in every case she never even holds it against Shadowheart at all, going as far as blaming herself for holding Shadowheart back, when playing as her origin. And she just let go of the matter after Shadowheart learns the truth from Aylin, and switches to advising her to seek vengeance.

With the exception of Durge's and Shart's situation, it really boils down to really not wanting to be on some god's bad side. Why would Lae'zel want to screw up their plan when she could just.... shut up and follow the rules? Better tip-toeing around all powerful beings than pissing them off because you heard a *maybe* very real rumor about them.

And that's the thing about Minthara: we're talking about a character who just started their religious deconversion, after spending their whole life, not only as a member, but as a high ranking figure of the cult. And considering Lolth is very real in the setting and is very proactive when it comes to testing and punishing her followers, it's only natural for Minthara to still default to trying not piss off a god. She literally spent 200+ years with no choice BUT to hold herself to Lolth's standard, dedicating her whole being to her, while having to witness other people being punished for crossing Lolth more than a few times. Deconverting is already a hard thing to do, taking years, if not decades, but when you live in a world were divine retribution is a very real thing, I assume it's an even harder thing to do.

You can even add more layers to the situation, or like, go for different interpretations, cause you didn't just piss off a god and gave up the power and status that he promised (even if the bargain is shit and won't end well and will doom everyone, like Minthara isn't planning that far ahead, and she's still convinced it's just something you can just... take control of if you make the effort lol). Add to that the stress of facing Orin and dealing against a big ass cult. The fact that you're romancing her, like, girly already had to kill her first girlfriend against her will, this time she's not even the cause of it but she still can't even do anything against it, and that death looks real fucking painful and she can't even try to make Durge feel better by whispering words of comfort or anything, and she's surrounded by other people, and idk, due to how things are in Menzoberranzan, I don't think she'd let herself be sad in the moment anyway, no matter how deep it cuts. Also, you know, she seems to be pretty preoccupied about her death and mortality in general (due to the fact that her soul will either go back to Lolth, or end up wandering in the fugue plane, I assume), so seeing you not only escape death that easily, but being resuscitated by a fucking god, when she's pretty sure no gods would extend the same grace to her, would probably be pretty upsetting. I know I'd be seething lol

So, to me, having her blowing a fuse because of any of those things would make the whole scolding feel a lot less hard to swallow without dumbing her character down? Hell, even in that case she would still yell at you about how you turned down power. Girly wouldn't let herself be that vulnerable in front of the whole party, so of course she'd blow up over the shallowest reason. You could literally have a follow up dialogue, explaining her reaction and resolving the whole situation. Larian gets to keep the first dialogue, Minthara gets to have character development, and you get more Minthara content and balm for the scolding you got as the player.

TLDR

It's less that it's OOC, and more that the dialogue feels like the start of an unfinished idea.

Minthara is the representation of an emotionally constipated boomer dad who just randomly drops traumatizing lore about themselves while trying to make a joke without even realizing what they went through was trauma. Of course it's gonna sound like angry hot garbage when she's trying to explain herself the first time. Let her think about it for a while and she'll get back to you.

Literally, due to her personal backstory and ongoing deconversion, it wouldn't be that far fetched to say that you telling Bhaal (a god) to go fuck himself (which makes him real angry) because you (his child) don't want to become his chosen (with the powers that comes with it), even if he's the only reason you've been born and becoming his chosen was basically the plan from the start (so it's basically your life's duty), which results in you (Minthara's only person of trust and SO) dying a pretty painful death (it's not the first time she's had to see a lover dying in front of her) just after having killed orin (the whole ordeal being very stressful to Minthara), before being resuscitated (look at you, you're putting her on the worst emotional rollercoaster of her life right now) by Withers (a god, basically) like it was nothing (when no gods would come to her help), would get her at least a little bit angry.

But since there's no follow up on it, it just... sours an event that could lead to great character development if it had been completed and fully implemented.

[anneapocalypse]

Why Anders and Fenris can't be friends (in the game)

Recently I made a short post that was supposed to stay that way, but instead it took over my brain for several days so I'm going to expand on it. In that post, I said:

"Why can't Fenris and Anders get along? Why can't they see what they have in common?" Because it's a story about how people can be practically and philosophically correct about a specific thing, and also get so mired in their own pain and trauma that they can't relate to people whose pain and trauma comes from a different source and who are right about something else, especially if trying to reconcile those two things would threaten their sense of self. And that is, imo, both more interesting and more true to the human experience than if they simply looked past all that without any difficulty.

So, with that as our starting point, why don't Anders and Fenris find common ground by the end of the game? Wouldn't that be a strong character arc for both of them, and aren't both characters lesser for not getting there? Is this an oversight, rushed development, bad writing?

I think the answer to these questions lies in the journeys that Anders and Fenris are each on over the course of the game, and in this post I'm going to explore both of their arcs a bit, where they’re both going and why their paths are divergent in the game. Specifically I mean to argue here that they cannot find common ground during the game because Fenris spends the game finding safety, while Anders spends the game becoming progressively less safe.

Disclaimer time! This post is not meant as a refutation of anyone’s ships or headcanons! You do you. What I hope to explore here is why things go the way they do in the game itself.

I’m also aware that this game has been out for over a decade, that there is nothing new under the sun, that both of these characters provoke strong feelings in a lot of us, and that some fans are just tired of hearing about them in general. If the latter is you, please feel free to scroll right on by; no need to inform me.

This analysis will necessarily involve discussing both characters’ flaws as well as their strengths (as well as those of some other characters), but it’s coming from a place of love and appreciation for these characters as complex and multi-faceted. Please refrain from expressing character hate on this post.

Content warnings: discussion of slavery, the Chantry explosion, abuse and trauma generally.

Anders' Journey

It has been said that Anders' character arc in DA2 is a downward spiral while Fenris is on a slow road to recovery. And I basically agree with that, but I don't think of it as a downward spiral in terms of negative character growth, precisely. While I do think there are ways in which Anders becomes less able and willing to empathize with others over the course of the game, I consider that more of a side effect of what's happening to him than a sign of him being on some kind of moral downturn.

To me, the downward spiral is that Anders spends the entire game losing hope.

As an apostate in Kirkwall (and a possessed one at that), I think it is important to recognize that Anders is never truly safe. It seems likely to me that the only reason he remains free for so long is because he happens to befriend some very powerful and influential people in Kirkwall—most notably, Varric Tethras, who is known to pay people off to keep his friends safe from the city's various criminal organizations, and I don't think it's unlikely that he's payed off templars as well.

Even in his closest circle of friends, Anders isn't completely safe. And it isn't Fenris who poses the greatest danger to him! The one character who actively suggests they turn in Anders (and Merrill) to the templars is Sebastian in Act III—and it's Fenris who brushes him off, telling him to "work it out with Hawke." I don't think Fenris would lose any sleep if it happened, but he actively declines to be a part of it. While Fenris is not above turning in mages generally (he will rat out Emile de Launcet to the Knight-Commander if brought along for “On the Loose”), there's no evidence that Fenris has ever made an active attempt to turn Hawke's mage companions over to the templars; if nothing else, he has too much respect for Hawke.

There's another companion who we know has turned mages in. Aveline and Anders get off to a pretty sour start right in Act I when Aveline asks if she can "consult" with him, and Anders guesses (rightly, it seems) that she just wants information on how to fight and kill mages. Needless to say, he is not forthcoming with help. Their Act II banter begins with Anders pointing out that she isn't a particularly mage-friendly Captain of the Guard, where Aveline counters that she’s only turned “a handful” over to the templars. Between Act II and Act III, there is a mounting tension between the two of them, with Anders in the final act doing his best to nudge Aveline away from defending the templars. Not even ideologically—he knows that's a losing battle with Aveline—but by bringing up Meredith's overreach and the fact that even Donnic doesn't agree with the Knight-Commander. When explaining to Hawke why he hasn't included them in the Mage Underground, Anders cites Hawke's connections to the nobility and to the Guard. It's no mystery who he's talking about.

There are people among Hawke's companions who pose an actual danger to Anders—and Fenris is not at the top of that list, no matter how much they may despise each other. And I think Anders' interactions with Fenris are especially vitriolic, not in spite of that fact, but because of it. I'd say similar of Merrill, the other companion Anders arguably has the most acrimony with. Neither Fenris nor Merrill poses any true threat to Anders. They are both elves who do not benefit from drawing attention to themselves; Merrill is a blood mage and Fenris an escaped former slave. While both of them hold views that make them philosophically or potentially dangerous, neither has ever actually acted against Anders.

Now, Anders does argue with Aveline and Sebastian. Repeatedly. He's not shy about stating his opinions and questioning theirs. But notice how the way he argues differs with each character. With Aveline, he appeals to her sense of order and propriety. With Sebastian, he appeals to his sense of righteousness. We see this particularly in Act III, once things have gotten especially dire. And he does start out similarly with Fenris, trying to draw a comparison between mages in the Circles and slaves in Tevinter—a tactic which utterly fails to move Fenris, and Anders drops it pretty quickly.

I think Anders' dialogue with Fenris gets especially nasty a) because Fenris is a rival against whom Anders can afford to vent his anger with less restraint, and b) because Fenris's existence makes Anders feel threatened in an entirely different way than Aveline and Sebastian. Anders knows that the Captain of the Guard and the noble-turned-Chantry-brother are not on his side, and it is in his best interest to be persuasive toward them, but also philosophically they're opposed to him in a way that he finds easy to refute. He is very firm in his convictions that the Circles are unjust and that they are a corruption of what Andraste taught and fought for. He may have little chance of actually persuading Aveline and Sebastian, but he's also in no danger of being persuaded by them. In other words, they may threaten his physical safety and that of other mages, but they do not challenge his core beliefs, his sense of self.

But Fenris does.

Anders has spent most of his life locked up for being a mage, running away and being caught, and subject to profound abuses. Since his final escape and joining with Justice, he has found purpose and hope in fighting for the cause of mage freedom. If his cause is just, then it is worth living for and fighting for, what he has lost he can endure, and what he’s had to do for that cause is justified. If he admits to himself that magic is itself a power that can be abused, that magic has anything to do with the atrocities Tevinter, that calls his purpose into question. If the unchecked use of magic has the potential to create a society just as unjust as the one he knows, that unravels his present idea of justice, which is quite literally part of his identity!

And maybe if this were a different story, Anders' arc would be about confronting those challenges and deciding how to move forward with them. But this isn't that story, because this is a story set in Kirkwall, where the templars' abuses of power over mages are happening right now, right in front of him, and every effort he makes to change that is systematically crushed.

This is really critical to Anders' arc! He is not a character who has spent the whole game achieving his goals and then escalating those goals. Almost everything he has tried to do has failed. And it's really not due to any strategic failing on his part; the Circle is just too powerful. His attempt to save Karl introduces this theme right at the beginning. Anders does his best; he does everything he can. But he is up against forces he cannot stop. Karl is doomed by the narrative so that we can understand what Anders is facing.

And it does not get any better! There's another tumblr post out there about how every companion quest for Anders is basically you go to see how he's doing, and he's doing bad. And it's true! Because things just keep getting worse. His Act II quest "Dissent" gives us a firsthand glimpse of the abuses taking place inside the Circle. "Dissent" is sometimes read as an example of Anders' paranoia, because both the Knight-Commander and the Grand Cleric had rejected Ser Alrik's plan to make all mages tranquil. I don't fully agree with that reading. Anders knows that such a proposal has been drawn up, and he is absolutely correct about that. He just doesn't know it’s been rejected, and frankly from where he’s standing, he has every reason to worry it might not be. Furthermore, Anders tells Hawke that there are templars within the Circle, most notoriously Ser Alrik, who are misusing the Rite of Tranquility even by Circle standards and who enjoy torturing and abusing mages—and then we see exactly that firsthand with Alrik and Ella, so Anders was entirely correct in that case.

By Act III, the Mage Underground has been completely dismantled, the Knight-Commander has openly seized control of Kirkwall, and half of Anders' own social group will still barely admit there's a problem. His ambient dialogue as early as the end of Act II is "I can't go on like this." It's hard not to feel the sheer despair radiating off Anders by the third Act.

His attack on the Chantry is not something he was always planning and working toward. It's a last resort he undertakes because every other avenue has failed. In seven years, he has helped to free individual mages, but he has made no progress toward dismantling or frankly even improving the Circle as a whole; in fact, it's only gotten worse. Now the lives of every mage in the Circle are threatened as Meredith seeks the Right of Annulment for little more than suspicions of blood magic. Individual rescues are not a solution. His written appeals to the public have had little practical effect. If he wants to save Kirkwall's mages, he has very few options left.

And if you listen to the way Anders speaks—if you look at his face after the explosion as he waits for Hawke's response—he is not happy about this. He is not dancing on the ashes. In fact, he looks heartbroken. There is collateral damage from the Chantry explosion and Anders knows there will be and he does not take that lightly. This is foreshadowed very well in a piece of banter with Isabela:

Anders: There is justice in the world. Isabela: Is there? You want to free the mages. Let's say you do, but to get there, you kill a bunch of innocent people. Isabela: What about them? Don't they then deserve justice? Anders: Yes.

Anders accepts this justice. He leaves Hawke out of his plans regardless of whether Hawke would have supported him because he means to accept the consequences for himself. He accepts whatever sentence he is given without resistance.

Regardless of how you feel about Anders' attack on the Chantry (and I'd prefer not to fight with anyone about that here), I recount all of this to make the point that his arc in the game is a long slide into despair and desperation, and for what I think are very understandable reasons. And over these seven years, it's pretty clear that Anders feels increasingly alone in his efforts. He feels like everyone is against him. There are things he feels he cannot tell even Hawke, no matter how supportive Hawke may be, because of Hawke's connections.

These are basically the worst possible conditions for a person to be able to extend patience and empathy to someone of very different experience with whom they are ideologically at odds.

Anders straight up doesn't have any energy, or emotional bandwidth, or whatever you want to call it, left for that. When he says, "I am the cause of mages. There is nothing else inside me," he means it. He is drained—emotionally, spiritually, probably physically, in all possible ways. He is particularly caustic in the back half of the game, and at times says some truly mean and petty things to and about other characters and I will not defend those things, but it is so understandable to me why he gets like this, stretched absolutely to the breaking point and ready to snap.

Anders' journey in Dragon Age II is a tragedy. Depending on the choices Hawke makes, it may not be the end of his story; there is still the possibility that he lives to see a changing world in which he himself can begin, after all these years, to breathe easier, to heal. I think that's going to be a long process, but it is absolutely possible.

Within the timeframe of the game itself, I don't think it is possible for Anders to go on the journey he's on and also figure out how to get along with Fenris. In fact I think those two things are antithetical to each other. Post-game, the world is wide with possibility. But not in the game itself. "Learn how to play well with others" (especially others who are diametrically opposed to everything he believes in) is so emphatically not the story being told with Anders in this game, and the entire climax of the game is built on top of the story it's been telling us with Anders. Because of that, I cannot see "Anders and Fenris become friends" as what could have been or what should have been. It's not just an add-on in this case; it's a change that rewrites the whole story.

Fenris's Journey

Upon arriving in Kirkwall, Fenris's history does at first glance share a lot of commonalities with Anders: he is an escapee who's managed to evade his captors for a few years now, and in Kirkwall he finds reason to settle down, though he is not out of danger yet.

But their paths start to diverge pretty much immediately.

First, let's just acknowledge that Kirkwall is, objectively, a safer city for Fenris than it is for Anders. That's not to say it is truly safe; Danarius is still hunting for Fenris and has connections in Kirkwall, and no human city is particularly safe for elves. Fenris finds himself pursued at some point in every act, culminating with Danarius himself in Act III.

Fenris is, however, much more able to defend himself against hired mobs of slavers operating illegally in the south than a lone apostate is able to defend him against an army of templars who have the backing of the city guard should they decide to actually come for him. Fenris's pursuers do not rule Kirkwall, and they don't have the guard on their side; they do not have a base of operations just a short boat ride away, and they are not sending troops to daily patrol the streets and look for a person of his description.

Had Fenris stayed in Tevinter, that would be exactly his situation, and if Anders had fled north, the templars tracking him would likely have faced more difficulty apprehending him. But this story doesn't take place in Tevinter, it takes place in Kirkwall, and Fenris has some advantage here just by nature of have escaped to the south.

Is Fenris truly safe in Kirkwall? No, and that's the setup for his whole character arc. The critical difference is that Fenris's arc is toward finding safety, while Anders' is not.

Let us note also that there is no one in Hawke's immediate friend group actively threatening to sell Fenris back into slavery. The Captain of the Guard, while she needles him about squatting in Hightown, also does not take the side of slavers. Even the pirate is against the trafficking of people. The only one in that group who has the potential to do such a thing to Fenris is Hawke, and only if Hawke decides to recruit Fenris, pretend to be his friend for seven years (even rivalries are still fundamentally friendships, just more challenging and complicated ones), before selling him out for, at most, a sum that should frankly be an insult to Hawke at that point in their career.

Hawke’s mage companions feel like threats to Fenris, yes, because his life experience has led him to conclude that no mage is truly safe. Anders and Merrill in particular represent the additional dangers of abominations and blood mages, respectively. But Anders’ core convictions pose a particular challenge not only to Fenris’ worldview, but to the very sense of safety he has only just begun to have.

Fenris spent most of his life enslaved and subjected to profound abuses. Since his escape to the south, he has found a sense of safety in the black-and-white concept that mages are dangerous and only non-mages can be trusted. If this is true, it means that in a world where mages are locked up, he can be safe. If what happened to him is, even in a broad sense, not unique to a land ruled by mages, then it could happen anywhere. (And unfortunately, that’s true. The slave trade is alive and well in the south, illegal though it may be, as we see in our many encounters with slavers.) If he admits to himself that many mages are just like him–subject to profound abuse and deserving of freedom—that sense of safety he is building for himself as a free man in the south is shattered. While he is still on the run, actively evading capture, this is not a possibility he is emotionally able to entertain.

It may be said that Fenris’s arc is about learning to let go of his anger; I disagree with that reading, or at least I think it is a very incomplete one. For one thing, it misses the very important point that the person his anger is for is still alive and actively pursuing him for most of the game. It’s easy to take Flemeth’s remark to Fenris, “The chains are broken, but are are you truly free?” as like, a philosophical statement, but no! He literally is not truly free so long as he still has to live as a fugitive, always looking over his shoulder, always waiting for the inevitable. He tells this to Hawke right in Act I: he will never truly be free until Danarius is dead, and if Danarius doesn’t show up eventually, Fenris will go hunt him down himself.

He is angry about this. He carries a deep rage not only for what has been done to him, what has been stolen from him, but also that even now Danarius is still taking from him and fucking up his life. Listen to the fury with which he says, “I was a fool to think I was free,” during “A Bitter Pill” in Act II.

And he needs that anger. Right now, that anger is still protecting him. It gives him the courage, as he says, to “turn and face the tiger.” His hatred of Hadriana compels him to seek her out and kill her rather than running again. And killing Hadriana is absolutely the right decision! There is nothing to be gained from leaving her alive, she certainly doesn’t deserve his mercy, and taking her out of the picture eliminates one more tool Danarius can use against him.

Where this scene shows Fenris’s need for growth is when he then lashes out at Hawke, regardless of their response. His anger isn’t the problem; his anger is valid and necessary. The problem is that it sometimes targets the wrong people: mages generally and his own friends in specific. But until Danarius is dead, Fenris cannot let go of that anger because it is necessary for his survival.

If you’re a Fenris fan, you know that moment in Act III in the Hanged Man, when he’s come to meet Varania and he sees Danarius. The expression on his face when the camera zooms in is nothing like the way he looks at Hadriana, with unfettered rage. The look when he sees Danarius is pure horror. He’s been waiting for this confrontation for ten years, but I think in that moment we realize he has also been terrified of it. He remembers what happened the last time he had a taste of freedom and Danarius came for him, and though he knows he has grown since then, those emotions are still there—the horror of having turned on the people who sheltered him, the shame of realizing how deep his conditioning was, the revulsion at what Danarius had made him. Anger has kept those feelings at a distance, but now, with Danarius before him at last, he must confront them all over again. Only this time, with friends at his back, he will fight.

With Danarius dead, it’s finally over. And whether Fenris chose to kill or spare his sister, he is now forced to confront the person he’s had to be to survive until this point.

The point of Fenris’s restlessness and dissatisfaction following his victory isn’t that killing Danarius was wrong or pointless. On the contrary: we have seen throughout the entire game that there was no other way for him to truly find freedom. At the risk of getting too clinical here, trauma (which includes long periods of unrelenting high stress) tends to leave people with emotions and coping mechanisms that were necessary for their survival at the time but become maladaptive once they are away from their trauma stressors. We have already seen this with Fenris, in the way his anger sometimes targets the wrong people, and Fenris himself is aware of this, at least in his interpersonal relationships: on his own initiative he seeks Hawke out to apologize after lashing out at them. In Act II, I think we even see the early stages of Fenris beginning to extend his circle of empathy after “Dissent,” when instead of calling Anders a monster, he suggests that Anders realize his limitations, adding that it was a suggestion, not a condemnation. I think it helps in that moment that Anders seems to take responsibility for what he did, or almost did, to Ella, even if he understandably does not react well to Fenris’s “suggestion.”

And now that Danarius is dead, Fenris is beginning to realize that while his fight for freedom is over, his path to healing has really just begun. There’s a reason he isn’t ready for a romantic relationship with Hawke until Act III, and it isn’t just that intimacy was triggering or the brief recovery of his memories upsetting. Until Danarius is dead, Fenris’s emotional growth really can only go so far, because he is still at least partly stuck in survival mode, and the anger and the blanket concept of “mages dangerous” are coping mechanisms he has developed in order to survive.

With Danarius dead, now Fenris can begin to let go. Now he can go further in examining who deserves his anger and who does not. Now he can begin to truly heal. And can he learn to sympathize with mages one day and stop seeing magic as the ultimate evil? I actually do think the answer is yes. But that’s at least a five-step plan, and his arc in the game is mainly concerned with accomplishing step 2. Step 1 was “Get out of Tevinter.” Step 2 was “make Danarius dead.” The next few steps are a lot less cut and dry, involving a lot of difficult emotional work. He has begun that process, but it’s a work in progress.

With friends to support his journey, I do think Fenris can still come a long way. I just don’t think he could possibly have gotten there before Act III.

Conclusions

Fenris and Anders are on very different journeys over the course of Dragon Age II. They cannot be friends or sympathize with one another in the timeframe of the game, not because they have nothing in common, but because neither of them are in a position to let their guard down in the ways they would have to in order to connect with each other. Neither of them have reached the level of healing they would need in order to do that, and it’s not possible for either of them to reach that point in the journeys they’re on during the game, with the stories the game is telling.

That doesn’t mean, however, that it’s not possible for them to reach that point in the future. Under the right circumstances, both of them may have the rest of their lives to heal and to grow.

[lunabug2004]

You said that according to you there is a way to make Mileven stay together and have all the characters have a good arc at the end of the show. Could you develop that? cause in my opinion if Mike's arc is about falling in love , changing his personality after meeting a girl and at the end being the protective paladin to "fix" his bad behaviour then it's really bad writing (coming from a straight person)

I'm going to be completely honest here, which I hope is what you want lol, I do think I say this (sans the "good arcs" part bc I don't think I've ever said that there's a way to make Mileven happen where all the characters have good arcs) to more-or-less make myself feel better bc I have so much Byler doubt (& Mike love) so yeah, take this as you will, this is just what my brain has come up with as an arc(?) I could mostly cope with. I mean, there's a reason I put "(mostly) happy" but yes, I'll try to expand.

I love Mike and I have a feeling I will continue to love Mike whether Mileven or Byler is endgame. This is purely because I do not believe Mike is a bad person or bad character just bc he's made some bad decisions/said some things he (canonically) regrets. I don't think Mike would be a protective paladin to simply "fix" his "bad behavior". While I do agree that this wouldn't be the best writing choice, I think, in-context, he would be trying his best to keep everyone he loves alive. He is an extremely traumatized teenage boy whose biggest fear is losing those he loves. He has been smack-dab in the middle of the action until s4. Finn Wolfhard himself has said Mike is depressed and pushing everyone away bc of it.

Anyways, all of this to say that I don't think it'd be too farfetched to say all of his "bad behavior" is simply untreated trauma symptoms. And yes, you could say something about other characters being traumatized and them not acting like Mike, but trauma, and this is a fact, effects everyone differently. One person may lean into their life before going through said trauma, like Will in s3, while another may block it out, like it's shown with El in s4, and another may completely change themselves while being stuck in a loop of wanting those he loves close to him but also wanting to keep them at a distance bc he is so terrified of losing them. Dr. Owens even says in s2 that a sign of PTSD is change in personality and lashing out, which we see both in Mike. Plus all the parallels bt him and Max in s4, it's safe to say this boy is struggling mentally.

I do think it would make sense, when we finally get Mike's POV in s5, for a lot of his controversial moments to be fueled by his mental health struggle. Now, do I think this is an excuse? Not necessarily, but it does make sense, and as far as I know, anytime Mike's actively made anyone upset he's apologetic (like I said earlier, lashing out). I believe that if the show solely focuses on Mike's mental health issues, then Mileven wouldn't be out of the question.

I do want to add that this is not how I want the story to go, I would much rather his story go the Byler route, but I've said before that his character is not solely dependent on either Byler or Mileven, and I still stand by that. He should not simply be seen as a 'romantic interest' character bc he is more than that and he has his own problems (that we aren't necessarily shown) that have nothing to do with who he's in a romantic relationship with.

Now, again, this is probably mostly just something I've convinced myself I'd be alright with, but I am aware that this in and of itself would be boring and not very good writing. I also do not know, in this case, what would happen on the Byler side of things, this why I say "(mostly)". I am fully a Byler shipper and would prefer Byler endgame to anything really, but I'm a Mike-stan first and foremost.

Sorry if this wasn't too clear, I feel like I just rambled and repeated myself a lot. Thanks for the ask, though! And pls if you or anyone else has questions about anything I said, pls ask me! Trust me, I know this isn't foolproof and I'm probably just dumb 😂

TLDR: I think it's possible they could go more towards untreated PTSD and trauma/mental health related route for Mike in a way that would make Mileven possible. Doesn't mean I'd think it's necessarily good writing, but I could see it going that way.

[thethiefandtheairbender]

Hiii, I really love your ATLA analyses. I'm genuinely interested, what can you say about this take? I mean, it sounds pretty logical, and I'm really interested to know what objections there might be to that view of EIP?

https://www.tumblr.com/writer-rider-dirty-thirties/744225630324965376?source=share

There's a few main things that meta like this one, I think, miss out on. That said beyond the two paragraphs I'm not really discussing their meta in particular. Everyone's entitled to their opinion, but it does play into why I think EIP gets blown out of proportion while ignoring the more... grounded subtext there? Which is what the rest of the meta response here is about as follows. Please refrain from sending me specific metas in the future - discrediting other people's work is not what I'm about, even I don't necessarily think it's always well argued.

They acknowledge the Doylist perspective... and then completely ignore the actual, textual Doylist perspective they have going on. The writers' intent was to, very evidently, use Ember Island Players to acknowledge their own and fans' reactions to the show (which is why the Great Divide, an episode that the writer of EIP wrote, gets the shaft in the play) by exaggerating and making fun of their own characters and plot points. Grounded in their portrayals yes (Katara does indeed make speeches about hope) but so heavily distorted; just look at how they portray this Katara and Jet, who are completely remorseless about drowning a town ("Oh Jet, you're so bad~").

But the distortion is key. The play pretty glaringly says "Canon Katara would never like Zuko" or vice versa, "because to do so would be a great distortion of her character and characterization." Furthermore, for Katara to only see Aang "like a little brother, and that you don't have feelings for me" is also a distortion, which is why Katara outright states on the balcony, "I didn't say that. An actor said that". It's also worth noting I think that the play itself also erases Aang's romantic feelings for Katara ("I wouldn't want it any other way!"). He doesn't make his feelings plain and be rejected in the play; they just don't exist. So even the play itself isn't saying that there's a love triangle, they're saying that a distorted version of these characters would feature a Katara and Aang that don't have feelings for each other, and a Katara and Zuko that would.

Now, I don't think the play is meant to be that dismissive of fans, either. Like I said - it's meant to poke fun, and the ZK faction had always been quite large and vocal. The crossroads of destiny and its associations with Oma and Shu (which serve the basis for Kataang's love theme) are the bulk of what the ship tends to stand on, 'canon' wise. It makes sense if you're going to do a ship tease with them to do it there, and it's also the last instance you can really make actor Katara 'like' anyone.

It's also a misread to assume Aang would get this angry over jealousy, as well, given that Katara was very obvious with Jet both times, and Aang was very sparingly jealous in Book 1 and only slightly so in Book 2. EIP is one of the rare instances where Aang projects onto other people, a trait more usually seen from his friends.

What makes him upset - and we Know this, because he repeats it outright when they actually Talk about it - is this exchange between actor Katara and Zuko:

EIP!Zuko: I thought you were the Avatar's girl. EIP!Katara: [Laughs] The Avatar? Why he's like a little brother to me. I certainly don't think of him in a romantic way.

That's what makes him potentially upset, which fair enough: it can be upsetting when someone doesn't like you back, especially when Katara previously has given plenty of indications that she does. But he's not mad at her on the balcony. He doesn't take his frustrations over her not seemingly returning his feelings out on her. He's mad because Katara can't, or won't, give him a straight answer.

Aang: You said that I'm just like a brother to you, and that you didn't have feelings for me. Katara: I didn't say that. An actor said that. Aang: But it's true, isn't it? We kissed at the invasion and I thought we were going to be together, but we're not. Katara: Aang, I don't know... Aang: Why don't you know?

AKA "if you don't like me, which I just gave you a perfect out to acknowledge, can you at least confirm it for me?" And she won't even do that.

Katara is usually a very openly emotional person, which is why when it comes to whether she has feelings for him or not (and he has very good reasons to think that she does, given if you remove the Aang's POV we see, Katara is wayy more obvious with her affection than he is), it's accordingly frustrating that she won't just come out and say it. When does someone like Katara hold back? Well... normally when she's concerned about Bigger Things (i.e. not initially pushing with Pakku because Aang learning waterbending is more important to her) or when she's not sure what to do (when Aang rejects her comfort in The Serpent's Pass).

Conversely, his feelings for Katara also makes Aang more likely to stop evading or dodging and to stick his landing. He's the one who tries to confess on two different occasions. He's the one who kisses her first. And he's the one who wants to actually discuss their relationship now. (These are all reasons why I think, if they ever did break up, Aang would actually be the one with the guts to say it out loud, just FYI.)

Alternatively, if we wanna talk about Framing, let's talk about the actual balcony scene, namely Katara's dialogue, and the placement of the moon:

Not only does this balcony scene take place on a balcony like their infamous finale kiss, with parallel framing of Katara walking up behind Aang and seeking him out to talk (if Katara hadn't approached him, it's likely neither would've happened either time) but like

When Yue finds herself in a similar situation with Sokka - a young man she loves, has kissed, but finds herself unable to be with for a variety of reasons - she says almost beat for beat what Katara says here about her feelings and reasonings for wanting more distance. But like both Yue and Katara say, there's more important things going on:

I say this because everyone ignores the aspect of Katara's bond with Aang that is informed by her own trauma and fear of losing people. Aang kisses her because "What if I don't come back?" Katara literally watched him die and brought him back to life. She watched her father mourn her mother and Sokka mourn Yue (The Swamp), which the play likewise gives her an ample reminder of. She watched Jet die too. Katara has faith that Aang will be different ("I knew you'd come" from CoD and "He's gonna come back; he has to" in Sozin's Comet) but that doesn't mean she's not scared. Everyone else going on is complicating her feelings for Aang, and that's perfectly valid -- but like I said, it's a 1 for 1 with Yue.

Which is why she kisses Aang first after the war, on another balcony, because now it is the right time.

This isn't even touching on the in-universe canonical reading of EIP being Fire Nation imperialist propaganda, but that's a meta for another day.

Not to mention: EIP also teases Zukaang through Aang and the Blue Spirit, has them similarly react in distaste, you can equally read Zuko wanting to sit in between them as wanting to sit next to Aang, and Zuko and Aang's dialogue is a lot more ship teased in canon, Anyway.

June: What happened? Your girlfriend run off on you? Zuko: It's not the girl I'm after. It's the bald monk she's travelling with.

Zuko doesn't even correct June for implying a romantic connection, only who he's looking for (love you Avatar "Zuko I want you to dance with me" Aang).

I also personally think that basically any episode that has 'strong' Zuko-Katara subtext actually has far stronger Zuko-Aang subtext, but that's a meta for another day.

I do always think the ZK fandom is a fascinating example of what can happen to a fandom when they only have maybe 5 episodes to work with, nor does ship teasing make something implied canon, otherwise The Dragon Prince (also created by Aaron Ehasz) would have a very different endgame ship (to the point that every Soren/Rayla shipper I've seen also ships ZK, funnily enough, because neither of those are remotely canon).

People have gotta stop taking the bone they're thrown and acting like it's a feast.

[vickyvicarious]

I wonder if Mr Hawkins hides a more serious condition too, he says he cannot go to the Castle because of gout so he sent Jonathan, and he also sends Mina unchaperoned (granted, he's not her father, but the closest she has) overseas, presumably because of the same issue. But so far those who hide their own illness are women.

You may well be onto something. Certainly, parental figures appear to be dropping like flies, at least into illness. And certainly, Mr. Hawkins doesn't seem well enough to travel despite presumably having originally planned to do so when he first accepted Dracula as a client.

From what I understand, gout itself is not often fatal at first, but it's likely to recur or become chronic, in which case it can increase your risk of other issues developing and can become fatal. So he wouldn't necessarily need to be hiding anything about what he has, except possibly how bad it's getting, for this to hint that he's on his way out too.

Your note about the gendered divide of hiding their own illness is interesting. I would be more inclined to point to them being Westenras, but certainly there is an element of it being easier for men, who are seen as more generally 'capable' (for lack of a better term), to admit to being ill or injured in some way. That said, it's a recurring theme that all sorts of people don't mention how bad things are with them. We see it with both the Westenra women with their illnesses, but also with Mina not admitting to the great stress she was under until she was pushed to the brink. Jonathan understated his distress a fair bit, and this seems normal for him. Jack withdrew from his friends when he was feeling depressed, and didn't seek them out to open up about his mental state. I recognize this is getting away from physical ailments, but it still feels relevant.

Another factor to consider is the relationship/circumstances, particularly for these parental figures. Mrs. Westenra is a widow who is eager to see her daughter married off to someone who can "take care of her"; she infantilizes Lucy and doesn't think she could handle the news, as well as not wanting to ruin her excitement for the wedding. I also think she personally doesn't want to have to deal with Lucy grieving for her, and would rather just pretend everything's fine because it is more comfortable for her. It seems like keeping up pretenses has been the modus operandi for her, and so that fits too. It makes sense as well that Lucy, having learned from her mother, would tend in the same direction.

If Arthur is anything to judge by, then his father is more likely to be open about his condition - both physically and emotionally. It also doesn't sound like his illness is much of a surprise based on how it has been mentioned, though the degree to which it worsens is unpredictable. I could imagine him as an older man, possibly with some chronic condition that they've both known about for a while, but which is getting worse at an unexpectedly rapid rate. I suspect he's hoping to hang on to see the wedding but both Arthur and he know it may not happen. He's also an important person, and he may need Arthur not only to be by his side for sentimental reasons, but in an effort to explain/pass over whatever he can before it's too late.

Mr. Hawkins is no one's father, but he does seem to fulfill something approaching that role for both Mina and Jonathan (though they seem more professional overall so far). If his illness is on the serious side, then him not mentioning it would make sense in the context of him not wanting to distress her any more than she already is about Jonathan. I also think he feels quite guilty about what happened to Jonathan 'on his watch'/in his place, particularly since it seems like he's been proud of teaching Jonathan as a sort of protege (the introductory letter might be bragging in a show for the client, but I choose to see it as honestly meant brags) and may feel a level of fatherly affection towards him. I think the circumstances would combine to make him more likely to feel more affectionate/indulgent towards both of them, and less likely to admit to any more serious health conditions. They're dealing with enough already (the thing everyone thinks), that sort of thing.