#and especially love the people who live off their work

[grlpartdoll]

Something something

141 boys in a tiny mountain lumberjack town that has a total of 30 people in it and Price basically runs it all because he's the one that keeps the economy going (he has a lumber business and most of the people in town work for him) and Ghost is the hunter / butcher that is freakishly big and somewhat haunting looking and that you can't seem to catch ever because you see him for a split second, catching his masked face in the pub, and next think you know he's gone.

Johny is that bartender who keeps the local pub and the community warm, fed and mostly drunk. He talks too much and is known to be a lady's man, if not also a man's man, at times. Despite that, he has a sweet soul and the kindest eyes and won't hesitate to rattle off a loud "aye, s'on da house, mate! No worr'ies!".

Kyle is the boy next door, who, yes, is the town's mayor's son, but the mayor title in this time is really just a technicality. Because everyone knows deep down that the ones who run this town are the people, not a singular entity. Anyway, he's that sweet, boy next door who truly cares for everyone, and never hesitates to give a hand here and there and especially at Price's business. (His father hates it. But Kyle loves it, and he appreciates being John Price's (sort of) apprentice.)

Comes in, you. Sweet, sweet angel come from above — a pretty wounded bird — all but crashing into their town.

You pretend that everything is fine. Pretend that your crazy ex (who is a police officer) isn't actively running after you.

You come with the clothes on your back and enough stuff to fill a backpack. And somehow inherit the bookstore of the old, grumpy gossip lady that's too tired to keep it in shape anymore.

It's not surprising that your sudden appearance intrigues people, but it's really your reaction to the attention, that gets them even more interested.

You're cagey. Bitey. Hissy. You cock an eyebrow at people more than you speak to them. Raise your nose up haughtily at things, pretending as though you believe yourself too good for most things happening in town.

You walk always with a purpose, and an eye over your shoulder. You're hyper-aware and all riled up like a live wire, ready to snap at the boys as they try to catch a feel of your current situation and mood

And Johny can't help but think, as you simply scoff at him and walk away from his flirting, that he knows exactly who to call, when it comes to feral little things begging to be caught and handled properly.

[justagalwhowrites]

Can't Stay Away - A QZ!Joel Miller Fic

Years after you turned to Joel for help getting out of a bad relationship, he can't seem to stop coming back to you.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: Angst (duh), Joel is a bit of an asshole (that's the point and it makes him even hotter, I fear), mention of past domestic violence (not described), injury from past domestic violence, threat of continued domestic violence. unprotected P in V sex, breeding kink, fantasizing about pregnancy (doesn't actually happen.) Minors DNI 18+ only, no use of Y/N.

Length: 4.1k

A/N: Shared for the Joel Miller Birthday Celebration found on Tumblr here. This is QZ!Joel with Secret Relationship and Breeding Kink. I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist | AO3

“Where the fuck else is there to go?” Tommy asked, shucking his mud-covered boots and leaving them in a pile by the door. 

“Just got business to take care of,” Joel said, voice rough. 

“It’s pourin’ rain, man,” his brother said, dropping his drenched pack to the table as if to make a point. “We didn’t even know we were makin’ it back tonight until fuckin’ tonight. Just stay home.” 

“Wanna get this done,” Joel said, taking his portion of their haul from his pack and piling it on the table. He left just one thing inside the pack. “Probably won’t be back ’til morning.” 

Tommy just pursed his lips, shaking his head a little. 

“Just don’t do anything stupid, Joel.” 

Joel didn’t say anything back. What did he have to say? 

Tommy had every reason to worry about him being stupid. Every reason to believe that Joel was going to do something that would hurt their smuggling operation. Every reason to believe that Joel was going to do something that would hurt himself. 

Which, he supposed, wasn’t particularly far off. 

You were, indeed, something stupid and something that would hurt him. 

You were his biggest indulgence and his biggest risk, the thing that was the largest threat to him here in the Boston QZ. 

Ex-wife of a FEDRA guard, Joel should avoid you. 

His work was dangerous enough as it was, he shouldn’t make it more dangerous by messing around that close to the people who could execute him if they really wanted, especially not with someone they seemed to take pleasure in tormenting.

But he couldn’t seem to stay away from you. 

He couldn’t put his finger on what it was. It wasn’t that he loved you. Not that he’d ever really loved a woman - he’d tried with Sarah’s mom and was sure he’d come up short - but he knew he didn’t have it in him to love anything now. The aching wound of loss took up too much of him, there wasn’t space for anything else.

But he did care. Whether that was because he was attached to you as a person or because you made him come so hard he forgot the world ended for a moment, he didn’t know. 

He supposed the why didn’t matter. He cared. He cared enough that he couldn’t lose you without it adding to that wound, one that had damn near killed him and had seemed to have only grown worse with time. 

That should be enough of a reason to stay away from you. Hadn’t he learned his lesson by now? That giving a shit only led to pain? That if he was going to keep surviving any of this, he had to be far, far away from something like you? 

Still, he made his way through the QZ, the pouring, cold rain fitting the grim environs. Everything here was slightly wrong. It looked something like a city from before but not. It appeared as though things could be normal, somewhere, except they weren’t. It seemed as though Joel had been tailor made for this place, this time. Living some kind of half life where everything was shades of gray, nothing left to live for but - apparently - not able to die. The last gasp of humanity left in him clinging to this world. 

That made you a shade of gray, too, one he wasn’t sure what to do with. 

It had started years earlier, when you were desperate and willing to trade sex for a gun. 

Joel hadn’t taken you up on the offer then, frowning as you watched him with wide, desperate eyes. 

“The hell do you need a gun for?” He’d asked. “If you don’t already got one, hard pressed to see someone like you startin’ in on a business that needed one.” 

“Does it matter?” You asked. “I’ll give you what ever you want, please.” 

“Matters to me,” Joel said. “Not about to arm someone looking to move in on my business.” 

“It’s not for that.” 

“Then you shouldn’t have a problem tellin’ me what it is for,” he replied. 

You looked around, cagey, before lowering your voice further. As though talking about an illegal weapons trade wasn’t enough of a reason to keep quiet. 

“I’m leaving my husband,” you said, those wide, soft eyes watching him so closely. “He’s FEDRA and he’s made it clear that he won’t let me go without a fight. I need to be able to protect myself, please, I can give you ration cards as I earn them, I can… I’ll do anything else you might want, I…” 

“Stop,” Joel cut you off, tears starting at the edges of your eyes. He took his hand gun from its place tucked in the small of his back and passed it to you as discreetly as he could. “There, now you got somethin’. Meet me here tomorrow, same time, I’ll get you more ammo. Know how to use it?” 

“Don’t I just point it and pull the trigger?” You asked, brows raised. 

He just sighed. 

“Think you can keep from usin’ it until tomorrow?” He asked. You nodded quickly. “Good. I’ll show you.” 

“Thank you,” you said, stashing the weapon quickly. “What… what do I owe you?” 

The fear in your voice made his stomach turn.

“Nothin’,” Joel said. “Fine on ration cards at the moment. Don’t trade in the other shit. Tomorrow. Don’t be late.” 

 You just nodded quickly, thanking him with too much earnest hope in your voice for something being spoken to him.

Joel spent the afternoon the next day teaching you how to shoot as best he could inside the QZ. Turns out, the reason you didn’t already know how is that you’d been in Boston during the outbreak. You’d just moved there with your shitbag of a husband a few weeks before it all came crashing down. You’d never really needed to fight, let alone shoot or kill. You never needed a gun. 

Until your husband started hitting you. 

Joel learned quickly exactly why you felt like you needed to be armed. He’d put a hand on your ribs to adjust your stance and you hissed in pain. Joel pulled away quickly, frowning as you tried to hide your pained expression but it didn’t work. 

“You gonna tell me what that was?” He asked, brows raised. You clenched your jaw and stared at the ground. 

“It’s not your business.”

“I’m helpin’ you, your husband is a fucking FEDRA officer, if you’re about to haul off and kill him I should know why,” he said, voice heated. “So tell me, he do that?” 

Your eyes finally met his and he didn’t need to ask again. 

“Lemme see.” 

“Joel…” 

“Show me,” he said, voice sharp. 

You sighed and lifted your sweatshirt, revealing discolored and swollen skin along one side. 

Joel clenched his jaw. 

“It’s gotten worse,” you said quietly. “I can’t keep pretending it’ll be OK if we just get through this, I can’t pretend like he hasn’t been building toward this for years. I need to get out before he kills me.” 

Joel stepped back and you lowered your shirt, your eyes on his. 

“He bigger than you?” He asked. You nodded. “Alright, gonna teach you a few more things, too…” 

He showed you how to protect yourself without a gun and how to end a conflict with one. He hoped you wouldn’t need to use either. After a few days of showing you how to do the things he’d assumed just came with the territory of surviving the end of the world, you went your separate ways. 

But Joel still thought of you, an odd twinge in his chest when he did, something like concern. He wanted you to be OK. He couldn’t put his finger on why that would matter to him but he wanted that, he wanted you to be safe and happy. 

So when he ran into you on the street a few months later, he couldn’t help but ask. And you smiled at him, brighter than he’d ever seen you look, when you told him that you had your own place now, that the gun he’d given you had never been fired. It was hard, but you’d survived. 

The two of you went to the speakeasy and you bought Joel a drink, saying you owed him for helping you get out of your situation. He let you buy the first round. He bought the second. Before too long, he was in your apartment, pulling off your clothes and touching your body without you flinching away from him. 

You became like a drug to him then. Every few nights he found himself outside your door, desperate for the reprieve you and your sex gave him. Some sense of normalcy, the ability to feel something beyond the crushing weight of loss, that brief moment when he was buried inside you and reaching his peak that the rest of the world fell away and he existed on a plane where nothing bad had ever happened to him and he’d never done anything to deserve it. 

He tried to pretend like that release is all it was. But then there were moments where he couldn’t deny that it was more. The time where he passed you on the street and your eyes met his and he wanted to go talk to you, to see why your eyes seemed dark and sad, but there was a FEDRA guard watching you from the corner and he couldn’t risk it, not for either of you. The time he showed up at your door and heard yelling and he pretended to be a neighbor to intervene. All the times he held you as you fell asleep nestled against his skin, soft and beautiful and trusting, all things that should have been driven out of you in the QZ. All things you should never have been with him in the first place. 

He swallowed those moments, tried to not let the fear and panic they sparked inside of him take over. The last time he loved someone, they died. The last time he loved someone, it almost killed him. He couldn’t love you. He couldn’t risk it. 

But here he was, at your door again, anyway.

He tried to stop himself from knocking but all it did was make his hand stutter before he did what he always did: wait for you to let him in. 

“Joel?” You opened the door in an oversized t-shirt and boxers, looking groggy. “You’re back.” 

You threw your arms around his neck and pulled him inside, pressing your body against his, burying your face in the hollow of his throat and he let himself breathe you in, remind himself that you were safe. 

“I was so worried about you,” your voice was muffled in the wet fabric of his shirt. “I heard some things from people at the gate and…” 

“The gate?” He frowned, pulling back from you. “The hell were you doin’ down there?” 

You looked at him, your lower lip going between your teeth, fingers twisting on themselves. 

“What. Were you doin’. At the gate.” 

“I heard something at work,” you said quietly. “About a patrol getting overrun by infected and… I wanted to see if there were signs of other people getting hurt, I’m sorry, I couldn’t just sit here and wait for you and not know…” 

“You can’t do shit like that,” he said roughly. “It ain’t safe, your fuckin’ husband is always looking for a reason to make your life hell, he would have me and Tommy killed if he knew about us, you can’t just…” 

“I know.” 

“Then why’d you do it?” He smacked his hand against the tabletop, making you flinch, hating himself for scaring you even for a moment. “I know you fuckin’ know better!” 

“Because I care about you!” You yelled, your voice thick. “Is that such a crime?” 

Joel crumpled at that, shoulders slouching. 

“That’s…” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That ain’t what this is, honey, you know that.” 

“I know,” you said again, voice soft. “I’m not expecting anything from you, Joel, I know better than that. I just… I’m not just going to pretend that you’re nothing to me. Life is too short for that.” 

His heart thudded against his ribs, so hard it felt like a bruise. 

“I can’t…” 

“I know,” you whispered, reaching up and cupping his cheek. “It’s OK. I know.” 

He should have turned to leave then, he was smart enough to know that. But your hand was soft on his skin, your body was warm next to his, your eyes were welcoming and understanding in a way that nothing else had been since he’d lost the only thing that mattered. 

So he kissed you.

It wasn’t something that was soft and romantic, nothing like what you deserved, nothing like how he would have kissed you if he’d known you before. Instead it was fierce, devouring, harsh enough that he knew his stubble must be scratching your skin and he didn’t care. All he cared about was getting more of you. 

You tugged him back toward your bedroom, Joel stepping out of his boots as he went. He dropped his pack on the floor and tugged your shirt up and over your head, casting it aside. He ran his hands over your bared skin, your flesh pebbled where the cold, wet of his shirt touched you. He pulled that off, too, before he could do anything that hurt you, even for a moment. Christ knew you had enough of that behind you, the look on your face when he’d lost control just a minute before already a scar in his mind, adding to the scars on your skin from your marriage he wished he could go back and stop. 

You undressed each other quickly, desperately, and he all but threw you on the bed once you were naked. He followed you there, shedding the last of his clothes before crawling up your body, his finger tracing your slit to spread you open just enough that he could get his thick, hard cock inside. 

He should be more careful with you, he knew that. But he didn’t have the patience and you’d never, even once, asked him to slow down or be gentle. So he pushed himself inside with one sharp, hard stroke, making you gasp and arch beneath him as he groaned at the feeling of your tight cunt. You whimpered as he stilled deep inside, adjusting to how you held him, fighting to keep from coming too quick because you felt too goddamn good but he couldn’t waste it, not this fast. 

“You’re OK,” he panted, his mouth against your shoulder. “You can take it, baby, know you can, take it so well.” 

He felt you nod against him, your hands trembling as they went to his back, holding him close. 

“Just take it,” he said as he started to fuck into you, caving to his baser instincts and letting himself have you the way you seemed so willing to give yourself to him. “Just take it, honey, just let me… let me…” 

Your hips rolled to meet his, your nails digging into his skin. 

“Feels so good, Joel,” you whined against him. “Fuck, I missed you, you feel, you feel, I…” 

He kissed you, swallowing your babbling before you had a chance to complete your thought. He couldn’t hear what he was afraid was coming, a line he couldn’t bring himself to cross. There was so much he couldn’t give to you, so much that he knew you deserved but was too selfish to give you up so you could find it. 

But fuck, did he wish he could give you that. In another time, another place, another reality entirely, he could. He knew that. In some other world, one where humanity wasn’t gone and his daughter was still breathing, he would give you everything. In that world, he would love you. He would open your car door and share inside jokes and care for you in a way no one else could. In that impossible world, you and him lived in a little house with a garden out front and a spare bedroom where Sarah stayed when she came for a visit because she would be an adult now, with a life of her own instead of forever frozen at 14. In that reality, you were his in every way. His ring was on your finger, his roof over your head, his baby in your womb. He wouldn’t need to hide it then, wouldn’t need to tiptoe around FEDRA, wouldn’t need to be afraid of what loving you might mean. He could fuck you until you were full of him, so full that you carried part of him inside of you for months, your body growing and changing with it and then no one would ever question that you were his, fucking his. 

Your pussy drew tight around him as your fingers wound tight in his hair. Your nipples were hard against his chest, the plush of your breasts pressed to his front as your thighs tightened around his hips. 

He pulled his mouth from yours to kiss and suck his way down your neck to your chest, pressing himself deep inside you and letting himself pretend - just for a moment - that the reality he occupied was one where he could have you, really have you. That the two of you were in a cozy bedroom with furniture he built for you with a room a few doors down that you’d already started looking at cribs and changing tables to fill it with. 

“Gonna come,” you panted, your hips stuttering against him as he pressed inside, forcing the head of his cock against the soft, tender place deep within you. “Fuck, don’t stop, don’t stop, I’m gonna… I… I…” 

He was so close to his peak that he almost wanted you to say it. He wanted you to say it while he came deep inside you, leaving himself there so it could take, so he could watch you grow his child and take care of you through it, so he could take care of both of you after. Claim you so thoroughly that when you were in the QZ there was no question that you were his, not with his baby inside you and his arm around your shoulders. 

He wanted it. He wanted it so bad that, in that moment with his cock buried inside you as you keened below him, he didn’t care if it fucking killed him. 

Joel came apart when you did, the fluttering of your tight little hole sending him over the edge, the high of nothing else in the world mattering outside of you and the hot clutch of your body swallowing him whole for one glorious moment. 

But, as always happened, he came back down to earth, still held in the cradle of your hips, still breathing the scent of your skin, still lost in the wasteland that was once the world. 

He didn’t kiss you as he pulled out of you, collapsing on the bed next to you, closing his eyes for a moment to keep from looking at you too long. 

“You gotta be more careful,” he said after a moment. 

You were silent long enough that he looked over at you, finding you on your side facing him but staring down at the mattress. 

“I know,” you said eventually. 

“I’m not trying to be an asshole,” he said, his voice gentle. Or as gentle as he seemed to be able to make it now, anyway. “But you know what happened the last time he thought you were seein’ someone. If killing him would fix it, I would, but I can’t kill every fucking FEDRA guard who’d take it out on you and I’m not gonna be the reason you get hurt.” 

“I know,” you said again, looking at him this time. “But I… I just…” 

“I know,” he said it this time, his stomach twisting. 

You just nodded. 

“You deserve better,” he said eventually. “Shouldn’t let me treat you the way I do.” 

“I don’t mind.” 

“You should,” he snapped and then sighed, staring at the ceiling again. “Sorry for scarin’ you before. When I hit the table. I… I would never…” 

“I know,” you said, more confidently then. He looked back to you, frowning. “I’m not afraid of you, Joel. I know better about that, too.” 

He was silent again, going back to staring at your water-stained ceiling. 

“Should probably take a break,” he said eventually. “Not see each other for a bit.” 

“It wouldn’t change anything,” you said quietly. He frowned, watching you again. “I know myself. I know how I feel. It’s OK. I don’t expect anything from you. Not even this.” 

His eyes searched yours and he let himself try to reach some other version of him on some other plane, one where things were safe and he was in the bed you shared with him in the home you made together. A version where he could be honest with you and it wouldn’t destroy him. 

“I’d give you more if I could,” he said instead. 

You smiled ever so slightly, a gentle curve to your lips. 

“I know,” you said softly. “Believe it or not, I know you, too, Joel.” 

He let himself look at you for a moment, let that terrifying wound at the center of him hurt where he could really feel it, to feel the horror of what letting himself love you would be. 

“It’s OK,” you whispered as you reached out and brushed his curls back, your fingertip grazing the scar at his temple. “I’ll just love you, anyway.” 

He stayed in your bed that night, lying awake as you slept against him, ignoring the scream of panic at the core of him to run while he still could. He knew it couldn’t last. He knew he couldn’t rest like this, not with you this close, not in this awful place with that awful hurt. But he couldn’t leave you either. Not like this. 

“Oh,” he said the next morning when it was still dark so he could slip back to his own apartment before some FEDRA prick was awake to see him leaving your place. “Almost forgot.” 

He pulled a scarf from his pack, the one thing he hadn’t left at home after this run. It was thick, the knit heavy, a color that made your eyes shine. Not that he had pictured you wearing it with those eyes of yours when he’d picked it up. He held it out to you and you frowned, confused, as you took it. 

“Winter is around the corner and you were cold all the time last year,” he said gruffly. “Don’t want you freezin’ to death.” 

You smiled a little, running your fingers over the pattern knit into the yarn. 

“Thank you,” you said, holding it to your chest and looking back to him. “I really needed this, Joel.” 

He just grunted, pulling his pack on and heading for the door. 

“I’m gonna stay away from you for a while,” he said, trying to ignore the pain in his chest at that. “Don’t want anyone catching on.” 

“OK,” you said, eyes searching his before you stepped close to him and slowly, cautiously, pressed your soft, warm lips to his own. “Take care of yourself for me, OK?” 

You said it like you would say I love you. 

“You, too,” he said. He wondered if it sounded the same to you, too. 

 Staying away from you took work. He wanted to see you, be next to you, get lost in you. But he knew where that would lead and he couldn’t let it, not now, not like this. 

So he stayed away for weeks. He stayed away until the first snowfall of the season in Boston and he made an excuse to go stand outside your job. He couldn’t help it. He needed to make sure you were warm and safe so he stood there and watched you leave, his scarf around your neck, You caught his eye with a small smile as you passed a FEDRA guard and he knew, with sinking certainty, he’d be back at your door that night. 

He just couldn’t seem to stay away from you. 

[throneofsapphics]

against the contract, chapter one

poly!Feysandriel x f!Reader

summary: If they were genuinely bad people, it would be so much easier to kill them. Signing a special contract to work with Azriel, Feyre, and Rhysand turns out nowhere near expected. You were a bit of fun that became their solace and escape, they were supposed to be an easy assignment that turned into your living nightmare

warnings: d/s dynamics seen, bondage, bdsm, piercing kink, needles, blood, toys

word count: 2022

a/n: here we go!! let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist, next chapter comes 10/1 :) series masterlist

There's a type of power in entering a room and having everyone stop to look at you. Rhysand, the devil of Velaris, knew that all too well, and loved every second of it. A man like him was made for the dark and night, but that didn't mean he couldn't shine in it. Tonight, however, someone else was capturing everyone's attention, and he intended to figure out who and what made them so enticing. You’d slowly gained notoriety, and he made it his job to know all players in his city. 

A single question to the right person, someone who recognized him, got him directions to a back room, he entered with his right hand wrapped around Feyre's waist, keeping her flush against his side. Azriel kept pace beside him on the left, a hairsbreadth too close to be just friendly, his shoulder brushing against his every few steps. 

The room they found was bathed in red light, throwing a ... sexual energy over everything. Intentional, he was sure of it. A leather topped platform stood on top of another platform at the front of the room, elevated perhaps two feet or so off the ground. 

Right there, kneeling on the leather, that’s where he got his first glance at you. With your eyes cast downward, hair braided back, hands behind your back, you made the picture-perfect submissive. He couldn't see behind you, but he could imagine you had perfect positioning from that angle as well, either your fingers interlocked, or opposite forearms grasped. He imagined there wasn't much about you that wasn't perfect. 

A dark haired, tanned woman stood before you, circling. You kept perfectly still. He spotted the tray on a small stool to the left. Needles, jewelry, swabs, alcohol wipes, and everything else needed for a piercing. His interest rose more, especially as he noticed Feyre’s head tilt up, her body pushed lightly against his arm as she straightened for a better view. 

You’d never see the three of them, cloaked in darkness as they were but you shone under that spotlight. 

There was no announcement, no grand words as it began, but the quiet clink of a needle caught everyone’s attention. Each bit of this was intentional, he knew it, to wrap someone deep into a web and for once he found himself wanting to let go, to heed resistance, to be swarmed and brought into the fold. 

Rhysand thought he caught the briefest hint of nerves, but the woman’s hand cupped your cheek and you melted. The woman stood behind you, one hand tilting your chin up, leaning down to whisper something in your ear. 

“Yes,” you replied breathily, voice carrying across the room. No honorific, if this woman was your Dominant you would’ve used the title. Rhysand couldn’t help hoping you weren’t claimed. 

She pinched your nipple, her mouth caressing the side of your neck, and he wished it was his hands and mouth on you. Another female came on stage and he watched as the two worked you, twisting the platform to show the elegant double column ties down your arms, tied off to a metal ring on the floor. Your legs were tied individually, your calves flush against the backs of your thighs, tied off to the floor as well. Pinned in place. The separate ties made sense as you spread your legs, revealing a fucking beautiful cunt, folds already glistening. He didn’t bother shifting to hide his hardening cock, especially as Feyre squirmed next to him. He knew Azriel wouldn’t move an inch, just as well as he knew there was no way the male was entirely unaffected by you. 

As the second woman brought out a vibrator and crouched slightly off to the side not to block your view, before clicking a button and pressing it deep against your clit, your teeth dug into your bottom lip, fighting to stay still. The buzzing filled the room, along with your panted breaths. 

The first woman ripped open an alcohol swab, and Rhysand shoved his free hand into his pocket to hide how his fingers curled. Azriel shot him an amused yet still aloof look, and he fought the impulse to roll his eyes like a child might. 

“Stop distracting me,” Feyre hissed and elbowed him. He hadn’t realized he was gripping her so tightly, he loosened his fingers a tad, a brush of guilt creeping in. “Oh stop that,” Feyre placed her hand on top of his. His darling was a sight, as always, clad in a sheer gossamer dress, resting just at her mid-thighs with a plunging neckline. 

He hadn’t realized he’d been stuck staring at her until she spoke again. “You’re about to miss it.” 

Rhysand’s head snapped forward fast enough his vision blurred for a second, clearing just in time to see pure ecstasy crossing your face as the needle pierced your skin. 

“I want her,” Feyre breathed after the second piercing. What or in this case who his Feyre darling wanted, he did his best to be sure she got.

Needles still in both of your breasts, you came with your head thrown back, a silent scream leaving your lips, and his newest obsession was born. 

-

You changed into comfortable clothes, leaving the jewelry in for now. You liked having it in for a few hours after each performance. There was something to be said about solidifying the experience and memory in your mind. 

The door flew open, your lips parted to give a greeting to whoever it might be, but your words froze in your mouth. It was unusual for anyone to re-enter the locker rooms, especially at this time. Comically slowly, you turned around to face the intruder, hand reaching for the knife in your bag. You relaxed as the smell of expensive but not very tastefully applied perfume hit you. 

“Morrigan wants to work with you again next time,” Francine, the club owner, said brusquely, striding into the changing room. You pause. It was strange for her to be in here, stranger to come for something that could’ve been a text. 

“She told me,” you said slowly. The blonde hadn’t said that directly, but she’d said something close enough earlier. 

“One of these days,” Mor tapped your shoulder, “I’ll convince Emerie to scene with both of us.” 

“Poor me,” you groaned over-dramatically, but in reality that sounded quite nice. 

“Excuse me, more like lucky you,” ruby red lips smiled at you over the edge of a wine glass. A sensuous and promising smile. 

A promise you’d quickly take her up on another day, but right now. “I’m out tonight,” you waved a hand over your chest. “Open wounds and all.” 

“Pity,” something, perhaps someone - probably Emerie, distracted the blonde and she pressed a kiss to your cheek before darting off behind you. Figuring that was a good time as any to leave, you tipped the bartender and left. 

Francine rubbed at her nose, shoving her red framed glasses up. Her matching red lips pursed into a frown. “Well. Since you’re here, I told them –  all three of them,” she emphasized, “ that you don’t take contracts, but they insisted on offering to you.” You tried not to show your offense at her scoff. “And that it remained sealed,” she sighed as if it was a massive inconvenience, waving the letter in the air. That caught your attention. It wouldn’t be the first time someone offered you a contract, but it would be the first time it made it to you. Usually Francine refused on your behalf, per your instructions, of course. But ... the look on her face. There was a mixture of expectation, and perhaps a hint of fear. You’d never known anything or anyone to scare that overbearing woman before. She ran a sex club for Gods sake. 

Her look implied she expected you to open it there and share. You remembered her scoff, the mocking way she said ‘you.’ No way. The nosy bird didn’t need these particular details. You enjoyed your privacy, and suspected these clients did too. Maybe a contract was just what you needed to take your mind off things, but you knew that would be very different from the ‘performances,’ you usually did a few times a week for the club. Francine liked to call you her ‘greatest discovery.’ You had choicer words for the woman, and generally kept them to yourself. 

You took the sealed envelope from her hand and tucked it into your bag. “I’ll look it over tonight and get back to you tomorrow.” 

A mix of disappointment and relief followed by a tight lipped smile and short nod as she pivoted, stalking from the room. You gave an overly cheery wave behind her back. Better than flipping her off. Too many mirrors. 

You went through your entire getting-home routine first. The Domme or Dom from your scenes always provided excellent aftercare, but it never hurt to love on yourself a little. After a shower, removing the jewelry from earlier and cleaning out the small wounds, a meal, and a couple glasses of water you finally felt ready.

Flipping through it, it looked pretty standard - nothing too crazy or out of the ordinary. Not that you had much knowledge or experience with them, but nothing crazier than what you expected. 

L.1 The Submissive will live with the Dominants for the duration of the contract.

You frowned at the line. Vague. You'd expected perhaps a bit more detail on that, but maybe it would be discussed when you met them. Gods, you really were thinking about taking this contract. Your very first one. 

Your mind wandered as you gazed over the words. If they were ugly, would you back out? You didn't think Francine would offer you a contract with someone especially hideous, but she had hinted they were very much VIP clients. Three of them, too. 

Spine straightening as you made it to the “Rules” section, you bent your head a bit closer to the paper. 

The Submissive will obey any instructions given by the Dominants immediately without hesitation or reservation and in an expeditious manner. The Submissive will agree to any sexual activity deemed fit and pleasurable by the Dominants excepting those activities which are outlined in hard limits (Appendix 2). They will do so eagerly and without hesitation.

Reading through the paper, seeing the official language, sent heat to your stomach. Part of you was turned on by this, the idea of having a semi-legal contract entitling individuals to your submission and you to their dominance. You bounced one leg, there was so much to think about, but it seemed so simple. A voice, one who’d gotten you into both good and bad situations, whispered at you to ‘just take it.’ 

The Submissive will not enter into any sexual relations with anyone other than the Dominants. The Submissive will conduct themself in a respectful manner at all times, unless otherwise requested.

Unless otherwise requested ... you frowned and highlighted that section. What the hell did that mean? Perhaps some kind of roleplay. You put a question mark next to it. 

There was a section for you to fill in your hard limits, easy enough considering you’d had those memorized for years, having been asked the question frequently enough. 

You flipped back up through, double checking for the section on safewords. Satisfied with “Green, Yellow, and Red,” you didn’t mark anything on that page. 

All of this was thrilling. Invigorating. Lighting an energy you hadn’t felt at this intensity in so, so long. Not since him. 

Ashamedly, what really caught your attention, in the end, was just how much they were willing to pay for your time. You could live comfortably for years off of that sum without having to work. Perhaps this is what would send you straight to hell, but in that moment you didn’t particularly care what they looked like, as long as they obeyed the rules set on paper, so could you. 

-

Azriel, crouched in the shadows on a neighboring roof, watched through your parted blinds as you highlighted and noted the contract. Good girl. 

series taglist: @rowaelinsdaughter @bookishbroadwaybish @lilah-asteria @nestaismommy @yeonalie @daycourtofficial @emidpsandia @thelov3lybookworm @justasillylittlegoofyguy @aactuaaltraash @hannzoaks @angelbunny222 @​​littlest-w01f @pandabiiissh

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general taglist: @lilah-asteria @yeonalie @I-am-a-lost-girl16

[youremyheaven]

Momagers, Stage Mom's & Mama's Boys: The Dysfunctional Moon Child

Moon influenced people often come from households where they had a very dysfunctional relationship with their parents. Both parents are usually toxic but the Moon person forms a close, overly sympathetic and anxiously attached bond with one parent who they perceive as the victim or martyr in some way. (Dad's abusive or neglectful and mom's the one trying her best, for example).

WHY does this happen?

Moon is said to be the most Yin of the planets. It's passive, feminine and emotional.

Most of the time, these bonds are toxic because its overly protective, overly nurturing, controlling, overly caring as opposed to say Sun influence which will create bonds that are too independent and unattached (aka female friendships vs male friendships lol). Moon influenced parent-child bonds become toxic because there's TOO MUCH love, care and attachment and neither party can have a separate independent existence.

Moon influence is prominent in the charts of momagers/stage moms AND the kids who are under their control.

Priyanka Chopra, Rohini Moon

Pri and her mom are attached at the hip and they're literally ALWAYS together. She has managed Pri's career since she was a teenager. And since she's not a nepo kid, it's known that she's had affairs with several married men in the industry, especially when she was starting out, to secure work :((

And I think its fucked up to have a parent basically pimp you out to make money. Be it PC getting a nose job or her army doctor mother quitting her job to open a cosmetic surgery clinic or her family running a pub?? PC is the golden goose and her family has just been living off of her money and encouraging her to basically do anything to make it. I think its a bit fcked to be smoking with your mom and its not bc I'm Indian lol

Alia Bhatt, Shravana Rising

Now Alia's dad is a pretty well known asshole who is infamous for being abusive. And Alia had a pretty rough upbringing, so its no wonder that Alia is as attached to her mom as she is. Alia's own marriage is pretty fucked up and toxic.

Alia started her career when she was 17 and to this day, her mom manages her finances. She was recently in the news for being scammed out of 1 crore rupees (119,000 dollars) so like I guess her mom's not exactly brilliant at what she does lol

Katrina Kaif, Hasta Moon

Katrina Kaif who is British, came to India when she was 17 and met and started dating the violent, toxic abusive Salman Khan, who was 20 years older than her. He helped her establish herself as a huge star but she went through a lot including physical abuse.

Kat endured all that because she had 7 siblings to support and her mom was a single mom. She's extremely close to her mom but I still think its fcked up that a literal teenager had to become the breadwinner of a family of 8 and endure all kinds of abuse in a toxic industry and in a country where she knew nobody just to break even.

Bella Hadid, Hasta Moon

Yolanda is a toxic mom in general but she has a particularly toxic bond with Bella for sure

Britney Spears, Shravana Moon

She's probably the most notorious example of being controlled by her toxic , abusive family :(((

Brooke Shields, Rohini Sun/Jupiter/Rahu

Her mom made her pose naked for playboy when she was 10. That should say enough about how fcked up her momager was. She has spoken about how her mom was an alcoholic and she felt like she had to do everything she could do to keep her mom alive :((

Ranbir Kapoor, Shravana Moon

He grew up in a toxic home where his dad cheated on his mom and was an alcoholic. He's KNOWN to be a mama's boy and his mother lowkey influenced all his previous relationships until he finally tied the knot with someone his mom approved of ://

Today his wife dresses and emulates his mom lmao

Leonardo DiCaprio, Hasta Moon

He's another infamous mama's boy

It's interesting to me how in most of these cases, the fathers were either absent or neglectful. These people grew up under the sole care of their mothers and it created an overly possessive, toxic, codependent bond. All of these people have spoken about how hard their mom's lives were and how they're grateful for everything their mothers did for them. This tendency of the Moon to make its natives be entirely sheltered from Yang or male influence or in some ways find Yang influence repulsive is very telling.

Similar to how Sun influenced people find it difficult to relate to or connect with Yin themes (like being clingy, attached, being nurturing in a traditional way, being openly loving etc) Moon influenced people struggle the most with detachment, letting go, independence etc. The extremes of both these can be unhealthy. It's important to learn how to be balanced and not give in to the tendencies that can harm both us and the people in our lives.

That's all for this post<3

[bokettochild]

So the thing about a lot of Prince! Legend reveal fics is that they miss out on all the juicy bits of the aftermath. Warriors thinking of Legend as like this secretly honorable, noble person who should be protected as he carries the precious blood of Hylia

And then Legend tells Warriors to piss off and wins a battle competition for best trick shot kill and Warriors has to reconcile both images of Legend in his head

Legend meanwhile sees Wars treating him differently and is paranoid about waking up with a knife in his back bc he's a stain on the Royal legacy due to being a boy/raised as a commoner/rude

And then Sky wants to connect to Legend as family and Legend wants to stay away from any reminders that he's royalty

And his Hyrule! Have the guards gotten over the mind control and respect him but he doesn't trust them still? The royal knights he grew up knowing and trusting until his first adventure? Do the villagers of each town acknowledge him? Do they know there's a prince but not that it's Link? Do they think of him as a rags to riches story or as a class traitor?

There's so much good shit I don't see explored a lot in the prince!legend headcanon that I would love to see and so I'm excited about you seemingly want to focus on this rather than just the shock value

I'm so glad you're excited! I actually haven't seen the poll results yet, but the reception in the comments/tags has been overall very positive and encouraging, so i think i'll probably be writing this thing LOL

There is a lot of change I want to explore with the fic, but while fluff is a must, I probably will touch on the heavier aspects of what Legend's being a prince would mean for him, Hyrule, and the systems in his world in general.

I sort of like the idea of his lineage being an open secret to those who knew him growing up because he's a dead-ringer for the late queen, and since he never knew that, he's never made an effort to hide it. While there might be some who think of him as a class-traitor, I don't think it would be that many of them, since he does work for a living, doesn't live like a prince by any stretch of the word, and never puts on airs or treats the people of Hyrule like they're below him. He's hard working, helps anyone who asks, and generally is a decent guy, so the people who are most affronted at his existence would probably be other nobles/religious folks.

Wariors and Wild will probably both be having a lot of conflict with trying to reconcile the ornery vet to a prince, especially when he is still very much a teenager, but I think, since Sky and Legend are pretty close already in cannon, they'd come out okay.

My take on Sky probably doesn't care much about the royal part of things, just that Legend is family, and considering most of Legend's family was killed by Ganon, I think he'd enjoy having that.

Anyways, the shock factor will probably play a role, at least at the start as everyone finds out, but yes, I want to go beyond just the initial realization we all like playing with and actually dig into the world-building and dynamics and how Legend's being a prince effects all of that!

[bullet-prooflove]

Inevitable: Donovan Rocker x Reader

Tagging: @mirabee @oliviah-25 @luckyladycreator2 @iwannabeinthesequalmrghostface @one-sweet-gubler @victoriajhyde @telepathay @winterrosies-blog @me-ladie @mah2101 @@avillagesperson @irishavengersassemble @crimeshowjunkie @haielsker-93 @whateversomethingbruh @watashiwasun @burningpeachpuppy @slytherqueen14 @brownskinbaby22 @lady-athanasia @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx

Companion piece to Reputation & One Night

It’s been eight months since that night in Noche and only a couple since you’ve told Donovan how you feel. It’s weight off your chest because for the first time you’re with someone who knows every part of you, who understands the pressures of the job, who wants to fulfil every single one of your desires, especially the ones you’ve never spoken to anybody else.

The only problem is work, because no one knows you’re in a relationship with Donovan and you’re not sure you want to tell them. This thing between the two of you is private, it’s nobody else’s business but you can tell Donovan’s getting antsy because whilst you’re living in the moment he’s thinking in the long term. He’s thinking of what happens when you get to a year, two years, five years.

He knows it’s not about him, it’s about you. It’s about being one of the only two female officers in SWAT and all the shit that comes along with that, it’s about being a female cop in the LAPD who’s dating a superior. There’re no rules about working in the same line of business, you’re both on different teams but it’s the reputation you’re afraid of. Once the genie’s out the bottle, it’s not something you can put stopper back on.

You’ve worked so damn hard to get where you are, beaten all of the odds and he knows none of that will matter. There are still people in the force who will judge you for the choices you make, for choosing to be with him. It’s your decision and he respects that, however things like this don’t stay a secret forever and at some point it’s going to come out. He doesn’t wish for that, but he senses the inevitability of it.

You’re walking to the café on the corner after a night of debauchery. The sun is shining, you’re both wearing sunglasses, Donovan’s arm is slung around your shoulders, your fingers linked with his as he leans in close and whispers in your ear.

“How about I ruin you in Napa? A little wine tasting, a little fun in a B&B…”

He’s interrupted by the sound of someone calling your name. The both of you freeze as you turn your attention to the two men approaching you.

Luca and Street…

Donovan feels the way you tense; he expects you to pull away, claim that you just bumped into one another. He’s willing to play along if that’s what you want. But you don’t do any of that, instead you squeeze his hand.

“Hey, we were just trying out that new food truck up the street when we saw you…” Luca says holding up a crepe. You see the expression on Street’s face, the moment it dawns on him that you and Donovan are here together, actually together.

“The two of you…” He trails off gesturing between the both of you.

Donovan looks down at you, waiting for your play. He’d follow you to hell and back with any decision you make and that only makes you love him more.

“Yea,” You tell your team mates, your lips brushing across the back of Donovan’s hand. “We’ve been together a while now.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[girlfromflor]

SLYTHERIN BOYS AS band members.

Mattheo Riddle - DRUMMER.

he always loved to tap his fingers anywhere, out of boredom or simply to past time

he also used do pen spinning, like A LOT - he learned a lot of tricks while waiting for time to past in detention

so starting as drummer in the band was the best idea ever

he does a lot of tricks with the sticks, he loves the attention

he likes to be very “aggressive” while playing, so a lot of physical movements

he doesn’t really like to help out with vocals, but does it when necessary

Theodore Nott - VOCALIST.

as someone who loved singing anytime he could, being vocalist suited him well

he doesn’t write the lyrics all alone, but since he was the main vocal he likes to train songwriting a lot

he does know how to play guitar and sometimes he plays it when the song has more than two guitars, but doesn’t really like to do it and sing at the same time

the only other instrument he actually likes to play while singing is keyboard, which is really helpful since they like to put it in a lot of songs

he likes to play a lot with the timing of his vocals, so expect a lot of different melodies in live performances

a huge fan of walking around the stage while singing too

Blaise Zabini - BASSIST.

probably started off as a cello player as a kid, but grew founder of bass with the hype of being in a band and all the fuss that came with it

he works a lot with mattheo on the musics’ basic melodies

he writes most of the songs they play, having some help from the others

likes to do solos most, since people underestimate his abilities and overlook the other members

he helps with backing vocals, especially in the early stages of practicing a new song since he is the first to memorize the lyrics 

he’s veryyyy chill, almost doesn’t move around while playing

Lorenzo Berkshire -  RHYTHM GUITARIST.

fun fact: contrary to popular belief, he had to practice really hard playing electric guitar since he was used to playing acoustic since he first learned it

once he got the hang of it there’s no way of stopping him, he is absolutely confident that he’s the best he could be

his confidence helps with his stage presence, which is why he gets all the girls swooning over him

he doesn't really like solos, and that’s the main reason why he didn’t accept the lead guitarist position, but he profoundly relishes in harmonizing with other guitars in the song

he likes to play side by side with whoever else is near him in live performances, he will walk towards the closest boy to play and vibe - especially when harmonizing with the lead guitar

someone once told him to grow his nails out so he wouldn’t have to use a plectrum and his immediate answer was “are you mad??? such a loony”

Draco Malfoy - LEAD GUITARIST.

he always been a rock band enthusiastic, actually this whole idea was his all along

he started as covering his favorite songs on his electric guitar - the one he received from his father as a birthday gift

and as soon as he realized theo could sing he immediately asked for him to sing while he played and then he brought the others with time - and with a lot of convincing mattheo

so he likes helping with vocals, he really likes it

but his favorite thing is when the guitar does the intro to the song

he loves to play along with enzo’s exaggerated self and put on a show while harmonizing in live performances

[warning-heckboop]

Wait since Dev is/is turning into a full fairy does that mean he has/is going to get an anti-fairy? If he does that would actually help the others understand Dev so much more actually. I've seen people do anti-fairy versions of Dev before and a common trait between them is that his anti-fairy presents themselves as caring and nice but is actually mean to reflect how Dev often puts up a mask of uncaring and aggression, especially when he's hurt. Tbh I really love that masking part of Dev's personality and how it's often coupled with him wearing his sunglasses, cuz in the scenes where he's being more open he always either is looking over them or has them off. Anyway just really interested in how you would characterize an anti-fairy Dev if he had one!

Dev definitely has an anti-fairy! In fact, he's had an anti-fairy his whole life, he just hasn't known about it. After all, we've already seen from Peri and Irep that an anti-fairy doesn't develop as part of magical maturity, and instead when one fairy is born, the anti-fairy is born not long after.

One thing to keep in mind, though, is that Dev isn't a typical fairy child. He didn't have parents, but was instead just formed from Fairy Council magic and a trinket from Dale. So unlike Irep, who was born to parents who were able to take care of him, Dev's anti-fairy (let's just call him Ved for simplicity's sake) just kind of. Appeared.

It's likely that Ved (along with any other gifted changeling anti-fairies, as I previously mentioned that the other kids who were imprisoned with Dale may have gotten one too) just showed up to the Anti-Fairy Council one day. Of course the Anti-Fairy Council would be suspicious, because fairies created in this fashion aren't an every day occurrence by any means. It wouldn't be hard for them to figure out that the Fairy Council wants to keep these new children a secret, as changelings are considered taboo, so I imagine they'd want to keep tabs on the children's anti-fairies, just in case they can use them to their advantage against the fairies some day.

I do love the idea of Ved being seemingly a big sweetheart, but in reality is just a massive jerk. While the Anti-Fairy Council probably kept an eye on him and any other similar kids, they most likely didn't actually do much to take care of them, meaning they would have pretty much had to fend for themselves. We saw from Irep that anti-fairy babies can be pretty smart and independent, so I don't think they would be fighting for their lives necessarily, but that doesn't mean life is easy in anyway either. I could see Ved being a sort of leader of this little ragtag group of anti-fairy misfits, who largely paint themselves as pitiful and helpless in order to lure suckers into a false sense of security before robbing them blind.

I'll have to try to draw a concept for Ved at some point! I can't right now, because I'm sitting in my car waiting for a doctor's appointment, lmao, but maybe sometime this week after work, or over the weekend!

[darcytaylor]

I understand your pain as a fellow non-shipper in this fandom. I don't know where to go anymore myself. I fully understand why you needed to step away. I often wonder if anyone is having any fun here anymore. There are entrenched narratives that are easily debunkable yet people will chop your head off if you dare to even suggest they aren't true. You can either join the entrenched echo chambers or get out, which I find absurd. I for one have been very over it for a while and I hope they don't put you off again because a more balanced space is desperately needed. There are more of us here than you'd think, we've just been beaten back from engaging because you can't reason with some corners of this site. The brainrot is alarming.

Thank you for sharing this with me, and letting me know that there are people who may be more like myself out there! I completely understand where you’re coming from - it really does feel like navigating a minefield at times in fandom spaces, especially when things become so polarized.

I love diving into the complexities of the characters in Bridgerton, but I also enjoy following the actors’ careers and seeing the variety of roles they take on or the work and things they do outside the show.

I still believe that speculating is fun and a natural part of engaging with any fandom. It can help keep the excitement alive between seasons or during gaps in content.

It’s also human nature to be curious about what’s going on behind the scenes with the actors or within their social circles. There’s nothing wrong with wondering what Nicola, Luke, or any of the Bridgerton cast are up to in their personal lives. It becomes tricky, though, when speculation turns into certainty or when people lock themselves into one interpretation of events.

I try to approach it by coming up with multiple possibilities instead of latching onto one theory and running with it. I believe that way, it stays playful and open-ended without diving into a rabbit hole of "this must be true." I also think it can be a healthier way of engaging because you’re acknowledging the unknowns while still allowing space for curiosity.

Nicola could be dating Jake, Luke (N or T), Eamon or the bartender that works down the street from her house. The options are endless! When you come to a conclusion with the little facts that we actually know, it can hinder the balance between curiosity and respect for the actors and their close circles.

I think it’s fun to explore all the possibilities without getting stuck on just one explanation. That way, I can stay open to new information and avoid getting swept up in the frenzy of needing certainty.

I think it should be about enjoying the journey rather than rushing to a definitive answer. Staying open to possibilities keeps the fandom fun while ensuring we respect the boundaries of the actors and their personal lives.

Bring on the possibilities!

[korithefox]

More Flipside spoilers. Fuck off im gonna talk about this stupid game as much as i want /lh

While we agree that all the endings sucked, i was thinking about Jeffery's death in particular and how the lead up to it was completely out of character for both him and Nicole

Let's start with Nicole: she wouldn't have even considered, let alone asked, to get involved with selling her feet to weirdos in the internet, especially if she knows that Jeffery is one of them. Now we know that sex work isn't completely out of the question for her. She sucked dick for drugs in the Re-Up because she was homeless and getting a "normal" job didn't work out. But thats the thing: she didn't have much of a choice. She was doing what it took to cope with her circumstances and have a roof over her head every night. But in the Flipside, she was still living at home and had her own income by stealing and reselling stuff on Ebay. In that case, there is no amount of money high enough that would get her to sell her body. Not to some old man like Jecka's dad, and definitely not to Jeffery of all people.

Speaking of Jeffery, hes fucking weird. That's nothing new. And it's no surprise that he gets off from being degraded by girls he likes. He'll put up with a lot of shit for sexual gratification. But he's also not completely socially blind. He's a dumbass but he knows when he's being bullied and whatnot. While going along and doing stupid shit because Nicole called him a "good boy" is 100% up his alley, i personally think he'd be too smart to let it go as far as it did. He puts up with a lot but he still has his limits. Consider how dismissive he was of Emily and Nicole when he started dating Karen in the Re-Up, and especially how he talked to Nicole and Jecka when they were trying to bully him at the beginning of the Flipside. It shows that he'd matured and realized he doesn't need fake validation from people who don't like him to be happy. He wouldn't do a full 180 on that principle and let Nicole overdose him on Robitussin and whatever else just because she took her shoes off and made his dick hard once

It feels like the first 2 games gave us a set of characters and established their traits, and while not necessarily realistic, they were believable, relatable, and entertaining. Then the Flipside comes along and turns the most well-known of those traits up to 100 just for the hell of it, to the point where the characters being assholes isn't even funny or clever, they're just assholes for the sake of being assholes. They took what we loved about the characters and completely overdid it so that they aren't even 3-dimensional, complex individuals anymore, but rather objects to create borderline pornographic content with that very obviously would've been hated if they (the devs) had taken even a second to look at the type of audience the first 2 games had garnered

The Flipside had so much potential to be an awesome game, but it was ruined by the decision to turn its beloved characters and world into one big piece of "technically legal" fetish art

[mya-valentine]

Headcanon: Pierro x Flirty S/O

Pierro, the director of the Fatui Harbingers, is a man of immense intellect and seriousness. As the mastermind behind much of the Fatui's operations, he rarely indulges in matters of the heart—or at least, that’s what people think. Enter his flirty S/O, who throws him completely off his game. They know how to break through his stoic exterior with ease, always catching him off-guard with their playful remarks and charming nature.

His S/O is endlessly amused by Pierro’s calm and collected demeanor, finding it fun to try and coax even the smallest reaction out of him. They’ll drop flirty comments like, “Oh, you must be so busy plotting world domination. But, if you need a break, I’m right here,” or, “How can someone so handsome always be so serious?” Pierro’s responses are usually measured, but his S/O can always spot the faintest twitch of his lips or a glint in his eye, letting them know they’re getting to him.

Despite his cold and calculated personality, Pierro finds his S/O’s flirtatious behavior oddly endearing. He’s not used to such lightheartedness, but their playful attitude becomes a welcome contrast to the harsh and ruthless environment of the Fatui. Over time, he starts looking forward to their teasing remarks, even if he doesn’t always show it.

While Pierro rarely flirts back directly, he has his own subtle way of reciprocating. He might give a rare compliment, delivered in his low, serious voice, leaving his S/O pleasantly surprised. He would say something like, “You have a talent for distraction,” with an amused undertone that lets them know he’s not immune to their charm.

His S/O enjoys teasing him about his enigmatic presence, often joking about how mysterious he is. “What’s behind the mask, Pierro? You’ve got to let me in on some of your secrets,” they’ll say with a wink, fully aware that Pierro rarely lets his guard down. But when he does, it’s in private moments, where he might gently take their hand or share a soft smile—his way of showing that their teasing has worked its way into his heart.

Pierro appreciates that his S/O can be both flirty and fiercely intelligent. Their wit and charm are refreshing, and he enjoys their clever remarks, especially when they challenge him in conversation. His S/O knows how to use their playful attitude to disarm him in discussions, making him consider different perspectives—even if he wouldn’t admit it outright.

Their flirty nature brings a lightness to Pierro’s life that he didn’t know he needed. In a world filled with manipulation, schemes, and hidden agendas, their genuine affection and humor are a breath of fresh air. He might not outwardly express how much he values it, but his loyalty and protective nature speak volumes about how deeply he cares for them.

Over time, Pierro learns to tease back in his own understated way. His responses become slightly more playful, though still reserved compared to his S/O’s overt flirting. He might say something like, “You’re awfully confident for someone who insists on distracting me,” with the slightest smirk. These rare moments of humor are cherished by his S/O, knowing that they’ve cracked his usually impenetrable exterior.

Despite their teasing, his S/O is deeply respectful of Pierro’s position and responsibilities. They understand the weight of his duties, but that doesn’t stop them from offering lighthearted distractions when he needs them most. Pierro, in return, finds solace in their presence, knowing that they can bring a sense of normalcy and affection into his otherwise calculating world.

At the end of the day, Pierro’s flirty S/O helps him remember that even in the darkest moments, there’s always room for a little light—and perhaps even love. Though he might not fully express it, their flirtatious charm has become a part of his life he wouldn’t want to live without.

[purplebehittindifferent]

As an artist I wanna commission other artists but I’m also an artist so I can make my own art but I want to commission other artists but I-

[butnotbubblegum]

using the tags to vent my current emotional state into the void bc ig story feels like a bad plan for this, don’t read them if you’re having a bad day, they’ll probably not help in the slightest.

[whiskeyswifty]

.

[myauditionfordrphil]

Rant in the tags, ignore it if you want.

[euelios]

there are very specific people in my irl life who can say the most innocuous things on earth and still make me steaming mad