#but for her own success all she does and needs to do is in direct support of the monarchy thats oppressing her

[zevranunderstander]

A thing ive been thinking about for years and years and years is. The Selection (you know those really mid hunger games ripoff books that everyone keeps joking about) has a core premise that is actually quite different and unique from hunger games and you could have gone off the hinges with this if you weren't an absolute centrist coward, with milquetoast, unreflected politics. but now I can't write this book that I am seeing in this story because I can't just rip off the premise of the book, you know??

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Since you've mentioned Scarlet Lady in one of your posts, what's your opinion on it?

I've mentioned before that I'm a big Scarlet Lady fan, which is the only reason that I'm comfortable answering asks like this one. I don't publicly criticize the content of hobby creators. That's wildly inappropriate! Punch up, not down.

The linked post was a general discussion of the adaptation process and how @zoe-oneesama did a fantastic job, so for this one, I'm just going to do some general gushing because I do actually like praising and enjoying things!

Scarlet Lady's chosen format (comic) allows it to have this wonderful conversation with canon where it can rely on the framework of canon to tell it's own story while also using canon for jokes and meta commentary. This means that Scarlet Lady is about as close as fan content can get to a direct reboot because it's able to have moments like this one from the comic's first post:

[Image description: Adrien standing in his room after transforming into Chat Noir for the first time. He is beaming and his eyes are shining with excitement as he exclaims, "This is gonna be awesome!"]

A single picture that communicates everything we need to know about Adrien getting his miraculous. When I've done this same thing in fanfic, I had to write out the full scene because that's how novels work. You have to give the full picture. With a comic, you can just quickly acknowledge this thing that we all already know and then move on to the new stuff. A picture really is worth a thousand words! (Or, in my case, more like two thousand...)

This allows Zoe to keep the same akumas that we get in canon without her story feeling like a boring rehash because she can focus on what's different in her version. A novelization of the same content would have to show both the stuff that stays the same and the stuff that changes for it to be coherent. That's a lot less fun to read and write. It's why I basically never revisit canon akumas in my own stuff. It's just too derivative for the written word.

This is one of the big reasons that I loved Scarlet Lady. Because it was able to have that more directly conversation with canon, it was able to take canon and say, "hey, why don't we embrace the tone that you established in season one and retell the story with that vibe?" That's something that I desperately wanted to see, but that is totally unsuited to my chosen artistic form. It couldn't be a novel. It had to be a comic.

If you want to know what a true formula show version of Miraculous would look like, Scarlet Lady is it. It does everything that Miraculous should have done:

Sticks to a lighthearted tone where nothing is ever super serious

Keeps Gabriel entirely unsympathetic

Has slow character development and background hints at a bigger plot as the only serial elements, allowing the individual episodes to be their own story while never feeling incomplete or rushed

Allows characters other than Marinette to shine while keeping Marinette as the clear main character

Makes Adrien narratively important

MAKES THE LOVE SQUARE CUTE SO I CAN ACTUALLY SHIP IT

Understands that Lila and Chloe can't coexist as antagonists

Reverses the love square, which is the best way to tell their story. Yes, I will die on my "love diamond" hill. It's a good hill. Come join me. I'll bring cookies.

I could keep going, but you hopefully get my point. While Scarlet Lady is certainly not the only way to do a formula version of canon, it's proof that a formula version does work! You don't have to go the serious route for Miraculous to be successful.

I want to take some time to gush about the ending, but I don't want to spoil it, so I'll put that gushing under a "read more" in case anyone hasn't seen it. I'll finish out this less spoilerish section with this:

I feel like some people are surprised when they learn that I love Scarlet Lady because - as some of you have probably picked up - it is quite different from my ideal version of canon. I'm not sure why that would stop me from enjoying a thing, though. It's important to remember that our personal ideals are not the only way to tell a good story. There are lots of ways to take what canon gave us and make something wonderful! It's part of the reason that I enjoy being in a fandom.

If I only wanted to see my ideal take on canon, then I'd stick to writing/imagining my own stories. But I don't want that! I like seeing alternate takes, too. Scarlet Lady is one of my personal favorites. It's completely different from anything that I'd ever think to write and that's why I'm so glad that it exists! I like being entertained just as much as I like creating my own entertainment and I don't want to only read stories that look like something I'd write. That's boring!

Spoilers below:

I've mentioned before that there are many, many ways to properly handle Chloe's character and Zoe did such a good job with her take on that! Chloe isn't absolved of all the things she did wrong, but she's also treated as a young woman with the ability to change.

While the comic bares the name of Chloe's alter ego, she was the never the main character. She never went on a journey. The story kept her to her shallow season-one self: a petty brat who just wanted attention. It did this because that's who Chloe was in canon and who Chloe needed to be for the comic to work.

The first time we see any complexity from Chloe is in the comic's final few episodes, which was absolutely the right call for Zoe to make! In a recent post, I talked about how the end of a formula show is the only time when you can break the formula in catastrophic ways and that's what Zoe did. She kept Chloe static until it was time to end the story and that's when the formula breaks. That's when Chloe gets depth because, once she has depth, the formula doesn't work.

That depth is not used to redeem Chloe, but to show us that there's hope for Chloe. That this petty brat who we've been dealing with has some serious issues and needs help. Help that she's going to get far away from the people that she's hurt because her issues aren't an excuse for what she's done. They don't erase the harm that she caused. At the same time, understanding her issues makes us hope that she can be better now and Scarlet Lady took a moment to give us that hope. To show us the START of Chloe's true story.

That is the kind of ending that I have wanted to see in so many properties!!! It was so wonderful to finally get one that did this right. A story that understood that full redemption to the team and damnation to death/suffering are extremes on a scale of possibilities. You don't have to go to extremes! You can fall in the middle and the middle is a perfect, natural place for Chloe to land in this kind of story. Fully redeeming or even fully damning Chloe simply doesn't work in lighthearted formula content. It's too big a lift as canon has already demonstrated.

I also loved Zoe's take on Emilie. I've mentioned that I don't like evil Emilie in part because it makes her revival feel like the start of a new story. She's back and she'd bad, so we have to take her down now! But I don't want that. I want the story to end when Gabriel is stopped. Zoe does this by giving us an Emilie that is another perfect middle ground. She matches canon's uncomfortable implications without feeling like a true villain who is a threat to society.

[synchodai]

I get this impression that House of the Dragon doesn't get that "named" heirs aren't really the norm in Westeros. If it were that easy for someone to just give everything to their favorite child, Randall Tarly wouldn't have needed to force Sam to go to the Wall and Tywin could have simply chosen Cersei over Tyrion as heir of Casterly Rock.

If we look at the history Westeros borrows from, the concept of "naming" heirs wasn't really a thing in medieval England. Landed gentry didn't have direct say over the order of succession until the Statute of Wills in 1540. Before then, land and subsequent titles could only be inherited through agnatic primogeniture.

Agnatic primogeniture prioritized the living, eldest, trueborn son. Claims can only be passed on patrilineally. This means that a grandaughter can inherit a claim of her grandfather's titles through her father, but a grandson cannot be given the same through his mother. However, if his mother finally does have land and titles under her own name (not under her father's), only then does her son and other children enter the line of succession.

The reason it was like this was because it kept land and titles under one family. Daughters are less preferred because when they are married, they become part of their husband's family — meaning that any titles they receive will be inherited through a new line. This wouldn't be an ideal situation because it gives two families claims to the titles. The more claimants there are, the more unstable the hold the owner has.

In other words, agnatic primogeniture was practiced for stability. Because back in the day, titles weren't just property or land. They came with governorship over a people, so a stable and predictable transfer of titles was necessary to avoid civil conflicts and questions of legitimacy.

A landed lord or lady wasn't given the right to designate heirs for a few reasons:

Most of them were vassals who oversaw the land in the name of someone higher up. It technically isn't even theirs to give away (see: feudal land tenure).

The wishes of a human being are less predictable than having a determined line of succession based on birth order. What if he becomes incapable of declaring an heir either through illness or disability? What if he's captured and a bad actor forces him to name this person heir under threat of violence?

People died unexpectedly all time. This was before germ theory and modern medicine — child mortality was extremely high. With no refrigeration technology, a single poor harvest could mean dying from starvation. Bandits, cutthroats, and raiders were a constant threat. They could not afford to rely on a person choosing a different heir every time the old heir drops dead, because the landed lord/lady could die just as suddenly.

Even 21st century families stab each other in the back over who gets grandma's house — so imagine having an uncertain line of succession in the middle ages over a life-defining lordship and without a modern-day court system to mediate.

Going back to HotD, whenever Targaryens did go against the established line of succession, they could only have done it by consolidating the support of their vassals. Only royalty seemed to have the power to bend agnatic primogeniture, but even then they were beholden to it.

When Jaehaerys I ascended the throne over Aerea, it was mainly because there were those who saw Maegor the Cruel's act of disinheriting Jaehaerys as null and void. This restored Jaehaerys place in the line of succession above Aerea.

And when Rhaenys was passed over for Baelon, Jaehaerys had to convene his lords and offer compelling reasons as to why — her young age, her lack of an heir, her Velaryon last name, etc. It wasn't a given that just because she was a woman that she was ineligible. If he was doing it purely out of misogyny, he still had to legally justify his misogyny in order to strip away her rights.

Even after consolidating support, the book mentions Jaehaerys I and Viserys I's respective hold on the crown was still weakened. Even though their claims were backed by reasons cosigned by a powerful majority, they still had to ensure the security of their rule through other means. There were people who doubted their right to rule, and those people had to be placated with gifts (by Viserys) or intimidated into submission (by Jaehaerys).

So we come to Viserys I who never gave his vassals a reason why Rhaenyra should supercede his three sons other than, "I said so." Had he convened with his lords and maybe made the argument that a first marriage takes precendence over a second one, then maybe he could have set a new precedent and gathered support.

But no, he didn't. He relied on the power of his own words and the lords' personal oaths — oaths that he didn't exactly plan how he would enforce posthumously.

And the Realm did not choose to adopt a different succession law after Jaehaerys's designation of Baelon in 92 AC or the Council of Harrenhal choosing Viserys on 101 AC. If those two events did change anything, it was that now women were exempt from the line of succession for the crown and only the crown. It did not set the precedence that monarchs could freely choose heirs. It did not upend the whole system; it only made a tweak, as most lawful policy-changes do, by carving out at an exception. It was a committee, not a revolution.

Before and after the Dance, no other monarch, lord, or lady "declared" an heir that went against agnatic primogeniture, save for Dornish who have cognatic (equal-gender) primogeniture instead. Ramsay had to get rid of Roose Bolton's living trueborn son AND be legitimized by the crown in order to be recognized as heir (only a crowned monarch can legitimize baseborn children which is another world-building pillar a lot of people miss). Randall basically had to force Sam to abdicate because he wanted his younger brother to inherit instead. And of course, Tywin despite his intense hatred of Tyrion is forced to acknowledge him as his heir.

The rigidity of the line of succession is a major and constant source of conflict in the series, so it baffles me that people really thought that characters could just freely choose their heirs. That's why we have a civil war. It wasn't a misunderstanding. It's the expected consequences of someone carelessly going against a foundational tenent of the society they inhabit.

[aloesarchives]

JJK Headcanon: Megumi cockblocks Toji/Megumi "Menace" Fushiguro/ Toji having beef with his 15 yr old son

Warning: Swearing, Female reader, Mentions of sexual activities but not explicit, ooc on Megumi’s part, Toji being Toji

Series: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Toji x Fem!Reader(romantic), Megumi x Mom!reader(parental/platonic)

Pronouns: She/Her(Reader is referred to as mom, mama, and mother by Toji and Megumi)

Word Count: 2.2K

(A/N: This is based on my one-shot I did and I wanted to expand on it because I just felt the need to. This headcanon went off the rails and is in different directions. Let me know if I missed any warnings!)

[Edited and Proofread! on 12/9/23 8:05pm. Forgive the strange format, Tumblr wouldn’t let me edit the post so I had to do it on the original doc and paste the edited version.]

Please enjoy!

So Megumi cock blocking Toji started out unintentionally and by accident. But as he got older, he did it more to annoy his dad and get on his nerves.

I will die on this hill but Megumi is a Mama's boy. Though it goes unsaid(by him at least), everyone knows it. Toji knows it, Gojo knows it, his classmates and friends know it, and everyone at Jujutsu High knows it. Hell, his own shadows know it.

Obviously you know it but you don’t want to embarrass your son. But it does fill you with love and contentment to know your son loves you dearly.

But that’s the problem, he LOVES you. Loves you more than Toji. Well, Megumi loves Toji as a dad and father. It’s just as he gets older, especially as a teenager, he often butts heads with Toji and gets fairly annoyed by his presence. All Toji has to do is breathe in Megumi’s direction and your son groans, rolls his eyes, and leaves.

When Megumi was younger, he was attached to you. You were always carrying him inside the house, when you were cooking, and even when folding the laundry. He didn’t like being far from you. All you had to do was be within 6 feet of your son or where he can see you and he will be fine.

So when Toji holds Megumi because you need to get or do something where you can’t bring your son, Megumi is all fussy and cranky. He doesn’t cry often but he is just all over Toji. Pulling at his hair, shirt, and cheek. Toji has been mostly successful with Megumi when putting him down for a nap, feeding or bathing him but sometimes it’s a struggle.

When you do it for Megumi, he is all cooperative and easy to handle. Toji clicks his tongue when he sees it happen and looks at Megumi as your son nuzzles into your shoulder. “I see how it is Megumi. All nice and easy for Mama but not for me.”

After successfully putting Megumi to bed, Toji gets frisky as wants some alone time with you. Since Megumi was born, your son has taken up most of your time. Leaving your poor husband with a lack of attention and affection. You want to make it up to him for lost time so you let him have his way with you.

However, just before Toji could go down on you and make you see stars, you hear Megumi’s crying. So out of instinct, you grab one of Toji’s shirts and make your way to comfort your son. Half the time, the mood gets instantly lost and Toji gets sexually frustrated. He was so close to boning you and your son just has to stop him from doing so. 

Toji gets blue balls so many times during Megumi’s youth, it’s a straight-up crime to him.

There are times when Toji doesn’t care if Megumi starts to cry in his bed. He read somewhere that babies just cry for no reason so at times let them cry it out. When he reads that, he’s not letting you out of his grasp when his son is crying in his crib. You feel the urge to comfort him but when Toji makes you wait a couple minutes and start to hear Megumi’s cries grow quieter, then they stop. That gives you two the green light to each other to yourselves.

75% Toji would have success with you but there was the other 25% he didn’t.

When Megumi was a toddler, he mostly would knock on your door in the dead of night either because he had a nightmare or wanted to sleep with you two. Luckily, this happens after your “nightly session” with Toji.

But Megumi would ask Toji to help him with stuff or pop up out of nowhere when wanted to have a piece of you. Toji hugging your front and cups your body while you cook? Megumi is by the kitchen table asking what are you making for dinner. Toji cages you against the wall as you put away the laundry? Megumi pops his head out of his room and asks Toji if he saw his dog plushie that was on his bed. 

But Megumi’s clinginess to you is genetic because Toji is the exact same to you. Way before Megumi was on the drawing board, Toji was either all over you or near you. No in between, it was one or the other.

You felt bad because it feels like your son and your husband are fighting for your attention. You know Megumi’s a child, who needs more guidance and help, but you know your husband has needs too. 

But as Megumi goes to school, it was easier for you two to have some alone time. Mostly easier for Toji to be inside of you.

But as Megumi gets the hang of summoning his shadows, it’s all over for Toji. This happens when he’s older as Megumi sometimes lets his dogs out and roam around the house. Like their user, the dogs and shadows love you too. One time, they saw Toji being too close to you and thought he was harassing you. So the dogs ran and pounced on Toji. One of them caught Toji’s wrists in their mouth and started pulling him away from you. Obviously, you called Megumi over to stop his dogs or to call them back. He does so but not without giving Toji a smirk, he definitely may or may not put his dogs up to it just to fuck around with his dad.

For the timely and observant boy he is, Megumi really is just popping in at the wrong times. He didn’t mean to do that to you, he’s well aware of how much you love Toji, both body and soul. He just doesn’t like how Toji isn’t quick and sleek with his intentions with you. Sure, it was Toji’s house and he can do whatever he wants in it. But Megumi also lives here too, so Toji should be more cautious and considerate of his son. Because everyone knows that they would rather bury themselves than see their parents try to give them another sibling.

Though Megumi now dorms at Jujutsu High because of missions, he does come home on weekends and breaks. But it varies from time to time, he would mostly tell you in advance when he would come home or visit. But he sometimes forgets and just drops by unannounced.  

Thus, that’s how scenarios like this occur. 

He will come home, sometimes knocking/ringing the doorbell but mostly lets himself in, then he walks inside, takes off his shoes, and goes to the living room. His heart slightly beats faster as he awaits the inevitable. It’s like a coin toss, 50/50 chance he’ll be safe or not. He relaxes when he doesn't stumble upon another eye bleaching but when he encounters the other 50%. He cringes inside so hard, he just blames Toji. Nah, he never blames you.

Yes, he’s well aware of men and women having… carnal desires… But you were never shameless about it in public or out in the open. He doesn’t know when it’s just Toji and you. But frankly, he DOES NOT WANT to know or find out. So he believes his father is just a dog in heat almost every time there is an OUNCE of spare time with you.

He either coughs, grunts or speaks to make his presence known. 99% of the time when this happens you are the one to push yourself away from Toji and try to make the situation less awkward for your son. It always ends up embarrassing you in the end.

Toji, in his head, lowkey wants to smack his son to another dimension. Way too salty in his mind.

‘Brat, let me have a moment with your mother, it’s not that hard.’ ‘IDGAF if you're my son, I’ll smack and give hands to my own son if you keep doing this.’

Like father like son, Megumi is doing the same thing in his head.

‘That’s a skill issue’ ‘This is an issue, not an iss-me’ ‘You fell off, what happened? Cause you’re too old?’ ‘Fucking cope, Old Man’.

Because of this, Toji literally has beef with his 15-year-old son. 

Should he be pressed about someone younger than him? No! Does he care? Also No. If this man can beef and fight Gojo Satoru and LIVE to see another day, he can have beef with anyone. 

Even if it’s his own son.

You should be a good parent and spouse and try to dissipate the fact your husband and son have an unspoken feud with each other. But you can’t help but watch everything unfold when they interact sometimes because it’s just funny and you get a kick out of it. 

Just to clarify, it’s never a shouting match or an actual argument. It’s more of petty insults, backhanded compliments, or brutal honesty minus the honesty. It’s like being a spectator at an event. You were watching for entertainment and you were getting your money’s worth. When you would come by Jujutsu High, you would talk about Megumi and Toji’s “interactions”. Saying something along the lines of “They don’t see eye to eye.”

One day, Toji and you decided to pay a visit to the campus because Principal Yagi needed to ask you about something in person. Since it was only you, Toji just wandered the halls and the school’s grounds, waiting for you to be done. As the odds were in his favor as he stumbled upon Megumi and his group doing some training. Toji just pops in and starts talking to Megumi. He acknowledged Yuuji and Nobara but he didn’t spare a glance at Gojo. In fact, he straight up looked at Gojo, gave a look of disgust, and continued talking to Megumi whilst ignoring him.

It didn’t take for some banter to rise between father and son, while no loud voices or malice was felt or seen. This was probably the few times Yuuji and Nobara had seen Megumi get heated, but this was the first time they saw Megumi beefing with his dad.

After a few minutes, Megumi summoned his shadows and Toji decided to change into his fighting stances. Yuuji thinks this is a bad idea but Gojo just smiles, saying that seeing them spar was a “learning experience”. Plus it would be good for Yuuji to watch Toji because Toji was a physical fighter considering his Heavenly Restriction. Though Yuuji has some curse energy, he must box it out with his opponents so he considered and the three watched the two fight it out. 

Megumi forgot his old man was an actual threat to the Jujutsu Society because Toji was straight up dodging Megumi’s shadows, their attacks, and even Megumi's own physical attacks. Though Toji wanted to have a little fun, he had to hold back so he wouldn't destroy/kill any of Megumi’s shadows. If he did, you would definitely find out and he would be a dead man for sure.

Anyway, it was so fast-paced that only Gojo was keeping up with the action. He was smiling but he had a shiver up his spine as he remembered that Megumi’s dad was the very reason for his enlightenment and Hollow Purple ability. It was obvious that Megumi wasn’t going to win but he wasn’t one to admit defeat. Then like a blur, Toji charged at Megumi from above and when he landed he created a decently large cater with Megumi at the center. Megumi’s shadows disappear since he is low on curse energy and is completely exhausted.

Both men were heaving and sweating like crazy. Yet out of nowhere, they suddenly hear your voice, LOUD and DESTRESS. You ran over to the two, eyes widening as the carter became bigger the closer you got. You see your son lying on the floor and help him up. You tried dusting off some of the dirt on him while looking concerned. You snapped your head towards Toji, whose smirk disappeared and then returned back again. You began to reprimand him for what he had done. Fighting his own son and damaging the training grounds, like wtf man.

You weren’t really raising your voice or yelling at him. But the firmness and seriousness in your tone about the small sparring session was enough to make someone straighten their posture and use very respective language towards you. There were moments where you tugged at Toji’s ear, pulled at his shirt so he was looking straight at you, or held his forearm tightly while you expressed your disappointment and concerns to him.

Ngl, Toji was a bit bricked up when you were all serious and angry at him. He didn’t mind sleeping on the couch if it meant he got to see this side of yours more often. 

Megumi reassures you that he is not physically hurt but his pride is wounded. You told him that if his dad pulled this again, to not engage with it and back off for his own safety. Megumi, because of his agitated mood, felt a bit offended that you didn’t believe your own son could hold his own. Let alone, go toe to toe with his own father.

“Mom, I don’t understand. Why don’t you trust me in fights even though I can handle myself.”

“Megumi, sweetheart, it’s not like that at all. I know you are a strong, smart, and capable person. You are my son, after all.”

“Then why don’t you want me to fight with dad?”

“Oh Megumi, honey. You have no idea the strength and capabilities of your father. You do realize, my dear, your dad was holding back a lot when he was sparring with you.”

Megumi looks shocked at his Pops, who winks at him, before turning his attention back to you.

“Wait, what? Just how strong is he, Mom?”

You didn’t give him a full answer.

All you said was, “Ask your teacher, Megumi.”

Megumi and his two classmates look at their teacher to see what you were talking about all the while Gojo was sweating bullets. That’s a story for another day, now you are dragging your husband home and telling your son to call you if anything changes.

So Toji and Megumi have eternal beef with each other. Though it’s more of annoyance and for shits and giggles really. Toji really does love his son and Megumi loves and respects his dad a lot.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thank you for reading and hope you have an amazing day with your favorite drink!

[bhaalble]

Back on my Wyll script doctor because I was talking about it with a friend. Specifically imagining a version of Wyll's big Character Choice that felt like it had some actual teeth.

Imagine a world where instead of a cartoon evil hot lady Mizora and Wyll's relationship actually had some complexity to it and like. some genuine push and pull which gives him temptation to stay. I just keep thinking about this 17 year old who his whole life wanted more than anything to be a hero, who got his chance to do something heroic and selfless and save the city from certain doom, and his reward is getting kicked out because he did it the "wrong way".

Imagine if instead of forcing his silence, Mizora instead comforted him. How unbelievably cruel of your father! Well...since you've nowhere else to go, why not stick with me? We make a pretty good team, as it turns out, and I can get you a whole list of monsters who need killing. Plenty of devils and demons loose in your world targetting all sorts of innocents. Our interests can keep aligning, and you get a place to sleep when you need it.

Wyll makes his peace with it, because he has nothing and no one. And Mizora's not GOOD maybe, not by Ulder Ravengard's definition. But she's fun. She delights in his growth. And she does certainly keep direct him at greater evils, devils who really do need killing. And if she spies on his every waking moment, well, she worries. If she sends him after the occasional innocent, well, she had people who she has to answer to as well. She's a devil, how much can he fault her for her nature? She's always seemed like she knew where the line was...

Karlach (and the player) express their doubts, of course, but for act one at least he's defensive. Yes, she punished him and he hates it and its miserable but....he was in breach of contract! She's NEVER gone outside its bounds, she's always stuck very closely to their agreement. Wyll, who wants so badly to trust others and believe everyone has the chance for good, can't find it in him to believe the worst even of a devil.

And Mizora is FOND of Wyll, loves him even in her way. As a cherished pet, as a trusted tool, as a best-laid plan. Never enough to choose his own well-being over her own agenda, never enough to see him as his own person. He's her little project, the long shot noble brat she gambled on when Tiamat decided to get too big for her britches. And it paid off! Wyll always pays off, currying her all the favor from Zariel she so desperately craves. And who are you, or anyone, to come between them? She's treated him well. As she's quick to remind him, she wanted him when no one else did, aided him while the rest of his city slept snug in their beds. And if Ulder Ravengard didn't want a son with a whiff of infernal, then do you REALLY think he'd want you with lovely horns and Avernus in your blood?

You discover his father's been taken. Beyond igniting a lot of old feelings, it brings up a question of succession. Of course, Florrick isnt giving up on him, but if not...there aren't currently any likely candidates to take over the Flaming Fists. Not trustworthy ones. Florrick will take the position, but everyone knows in the back of his mind Ulder never really stopped planning for it to be Wyll. With the city in chaos and a cult army on the rise, they may need an answer sooner rather than later. Wyll feels the call of the Gate, but knows just as well that Mizora wouldn't want him to return in such an official capacity.

For the first time ever the leash starts to chafe in a way he can't keep pushing through.

Act 2 rolls around. Mizora sends up the Warlock signal. After potentially some encouragement from the player, Wyll (NOT THE PLAYER. I DONT KNOW WHY ITS THE PLAYER IN THE GAME ITS WEIRD) hesitantly proposes that maybe, if he does this....they can do a renegotiation of his contract. Not break it, he assures her quickly! Just....reopen the terms, take a looks at the agreement. Maybe discuss an exit ramp? After all....I mean, neither of us truly thought I'd be doing this forever, did we?

Based on Mizora's reaction. Yeah she did.

But fine. She agrees. And Wyll's not mad that it turns out you're rescuing her, not a nameless "operative" for Zariel. He would've done that on his own had she asked. Its the fact that she apparently didn't feel like being honest, that she let him fret and worry about potentially handing Zariel back some runaway for basically no reason. Its the fact that she came here to check in on the cult that abducted his FATHER just to see if Zariel could make any use of them. And its the fact that she seems surprised and annoyed that ANY of this bothers him.

All this builds, of course, to the final confrontation. The basic elements are the same. Mizora outside the coronation (this time needling at Wyll, "I'll be at camp if you're not too high and mighty to consort with the likes of me anymore"), Ulder tadpoled and fighting it. Mizora makes her offer. I can end the contract now, and you're free to go running after daddy (who won't want you btw! not like I do!). You'll lose all your powers, all my aid, all those juicy quests to chase down the greatest monsters in the hells. Take on your father's job and settle in for a life of misery and compromise and only doing as much good as the nobles will let you. Or: pledge yourself to me, eternally. I'll give you a boatload of new powers and eternal life to boot, so long as you serve as my sword and shield.

From there I think three endings branch out, and with it three classes for Wyll. If he stays with Mizora, accepts a relationship where he will never be an equal or a free agent in exchange for the affirmation he wants so badly from his father, he remains a Warlock, with some juiced stats and extra spell slots, along with shiny new gear. If he pledges to follow in his father's footsteps, he instead becomes an Oath of Devotion paladin, pledging himself in service to Tyr, if with a sense of doomed finality. The Blade of Frontiers is officially retired, and along with it any identity he has outside of being his father's son. Or the third path, break the contract without taking his father's role. He will look for his father, yes, but whether or not you find him he's going back to his roots, travelling around to do some good in the world (as the Blade of Frontiers) or kicking ass in the Hells with Karlach (as the Blade of Avernus). In this timeline he becomes a fighter, with a default preference for Eldritch Knight.

What's important: if he breaks his contract then Mizora is NOT hanging around camp. She will leave in a fury, accidentally bound by her own word to withdraw her influence completely if he breaks his contract. She may still approach the player some night to sleep with the player, framed for high approval/romanced players and her trying to take something back from Wyll. But Wyll will have to learn how to define himself without her breathing down his neck, without keeping her happy dominating his every thought. Its nervewracking, and even lonesome at times...but its freedom. And, perhaps, that's worth a little bit of lonesomeness.

[prael]

Trouble

male reader x NMIXX Haewon Masterlist

5.5k words [commissioned work]

this is a follow-up to studious

There’s this thing about trouble. You don’t look for it. It finds you. 

Haewon is most certainly trouble. The best kind of trouble. The kind of trouble that, while you know the possible consequences, she makes it all worth it. Anyone could have walked in on her riding you in that classroom, but at the time, you couldn’t have cared less.

***

Not a week later, you find yourself staring down trouble once again. What should have been a normal day at the beach with your friends became a chance encounter with the person you somehow wanted to see both the most and the least right now. 

There’s no denying the perks—some of them you spent the past hour admiring. But you can’t shake off the fear that she’s about to cause a scene. After all, you still haven’t found the right words to text her since that evening. Luckily, you had done a successful job of avoiding her until now.

As each minute of the past hour had passed, the tension seemed only to build as you waited for the girl sat only a few meters ahead of you to cause a scene. Your friends passed through a series of conversations you don’t really recall amidst the distraction. There was something about classes, someone’s brother, oh, and a brief mention of the rumour of two unnamed students getting it on in Mr Choi’s classroom—avoiding that conversation was for the best.

Haewon continues rotating through her repetitions. Picking up her phone and scrolling through social media for a while. Taking a drink from her bottle, with her usual habit of taking one small sip before a mouthful. And occasionally taking a short walk around.

You shouldn’t care, but you do. You can’t fight the frustration that she hasn’t spoken to you yet. Yes, you dread her confronting you, but it can’t be worse than being left in the cold. Not even a smile or a customary glance in your direction. It’s inconceivable that she simply hasn’t noticed you. Not even moments ago, she strutted right by where you are sitting. Her short jean shorts sitting at the very top of her thigh passed at eye level. Each step was accompanied by a sway of her hips and a ripple sent down her thighs.

Fuck. Just thinking about it again made your own shorts uncomfortable. Again.

It’s impossible to look away. Haewon has returned to relaxing on her lounger now. Although it looks like she changed the angle of it now and suddenly, as she sits with one leg outstretched and the other bent slightly, she gives you a perfect show.

It could all be a coincidence. Maybe she really hasn’t noticed you. She just happened to walk right by you, she just happened to adjust the angle of her lounger.

However, there is one thing you can be sure of with Haewon; everything she does has a purpose. 

You plant your feet into the burning sand and immediately pull them back, recoiling in pain. Better put your sliders on first, idiot. The way Haewon messed with your mind is dangerous, literally.

Aimlessly walking. Salty sea breeze against your face and through your hair. Uneasy footing on the soft sand. Eyes wandering. Down the length of the beach, then out to sea. The crashing waves—rhythmic chaos.

Contrasting the other chaos—that which has no rhythm and is completely unpredictable. That which is right behind you, her strides just a little longer than your own, closing the distance by which she tails you. You couldn’t even get a minute without this woman in your mind today.

“Need a moment to yourself?” It wasn’t a real question, nor an offer to give you one. Moreso a taunt from the lips of Haewon as she places herself by your side. 

“I’m just going to, um…” You look ahead and spot the public bathroom, which you are getting close to walking by. “The bathroom.”

“No… You’re just walking away because staring at me for the past hour is getting you a little hot under the collar.”

Haewon has a read on you like no other, and it’s far too uncomfortable. You don’t have a response to her unexpected intuition, instead choosing to grunt and continue walking, picking up the pace a little. 

Haewon catches up to you with a little skip in her step. “There’s no need to be embarrassed. I’m sure no one noticed you getting hard. Putting your bag on your lap really helped cover it up.”

With sarcasm in her tone, she mocks you.

You take a moment to swallow that lump in your throat before replying, “that’s not what happened. I just wanted to—”

“Please. You’re going to pretend you haven’t been staring at me for the past hour?” 

“No—”

“So, someone else?” Haewon cuts you off again. “It’s that why you never texted me? You must be some kind of player.”

“There’s no one else, Haewon.”

“I knew it was me.”

She’s good. It’s like a chess game, and she’s moving all the right pieces—always putting you in check. There’s no surprise, though; it’s what she does. It’s what she has done to you before—the note in your locker, the timing, the place, her confident words.

“I’m gonna go to the toilet now, Haewon.” You turn away and divert into the thankfully empty single public toilet. You didn’t even need to use it, but it’s impossible to be played if you take all your pieces off the board.

You open the door and slip inside, not looking back at the girl you left on the sand. You pull the door closed behind you but come to a sudden stop when an arm reaches into the gap and stops you. Haewon’s head flicks left and right, scanning the immediate area, her shiny brunette locks flowing as they’re thrown side-to-side.

She slips into the small room with you, slamming the door shut and flicking the lock. Haewon hesitates to turn around, still facing the door. Silence fills the room for a few seconds, and you can’t help but explore her body with your eyes. Following her flowing hair down to her white crop top. One that you mentally praise heavily for the way it reveals her lower back. 

Head cocked back. Shoulders shifting. Her chest heaves as she forcefully expels a full breath. 

Haewon spins. Her back against the door. Palms open against it too. And behind the loose locks on her face are eyes shining with intent.

Maybe she feels like she’s winning—or already won. This could be checkmate and all that’s left is for you to knock over your king and concede. But you know the truth, and the sense of accomplishment can’t help but force a smile onto your lips. All the avoidance, the refusal to text her, and the distant admiring. The acting like the fool—the flustered young man—who dipped into a bathroom to escape her. Perfect bait.

Haewon steps away from the wall and moves a little closer to you. Okay, maybe all your avoidance wasn’t acting—she does have a way of throwing you off kilter—but at least some of it was. Now locked in this room with Haewon, the result couldn’t have been closer to what you wanted.

Last time it was all her plan. Actions she set in motion and entirely dictated.

However, now as Haewon pushes her slim fingers under the hem of her top and pulls it slowly overhead, she does so on neutral ground. Ground that gratefully accepts the item of clothing as she drops her shirt to the floor.

Your smile becomes a grin as you admire what she revealed. It’s almost a talent in its own right how she had perfectly constructed the scene under her top. She picked a piece of lingerie that was designed with a sole purpose; to show as much as possible without showing everything. The smallest patch of lace possible is placed directly over the nipple, and that was it bar the straps. Cleavage. Side-boob. Under-boob. The whole fucking boob on show.

Haewon takes another step forward. There are maybe two more until she’s up against you, and she seems intent on making each one count. Haewon slips her thumbs under the waistband of her short—really short—shorts.

“Tell me to stop.”

It’s a dare.

Another test.

One of many where she thinks the only acceptable answer is silent awe. 

“Don’t stop.” Contradictory. Stern. Not a voice, in tone or content, that you’ve used with Haewon before.

Could be that, given the headstrong young woman she is, she hides it well, but your answer doesn’t break her composure and she forces her shorts away from her hips, letting them hit the floor in a similar fashion to her top. 

Although she has no smart remark to return, her actions do the talking as her structured performance continues. Another step, her hands snaking behind her back toward the clasp of her bra. As she plants her left foot, she pops it open—the fabric giving way to the two bundles beneath. Haewon brings her hands to her side, allowing the bra to fall from her body. It lands atop her shorts, still attached to her back foot. With one swift flick, both her shorts and her bra are sent into the corner of the room.

"You should smile like that more." 

Unknowingly, unwittingly, Haewon’s exposed body has drawn a smile across your face. You catch yourself and attempt to rein it in a little. However, it's easier said than done while you admire her porcelain skin, which looks so soft to the touch. The line of her waist and how her underwear perfectly accentuates the curve of her hips. And how her two perfect tits still held a perky fullness—looking like a perfect match for the cupped palm of your hands.

Haewon continues, “As much as I appreciate the brewing mystery behind your often blank face, that confident smile is much more exciting. It’s much more you.”

It was sudden, then. Caught off balance, even with your natural charm and wit—the initiative was never yours to take. But Haewon’s right. This time you’re honing in on something. Unearthing a side to you which can take the lead with confidence and a smile. A worthy opponent to her bravado.

"Then keep giving me reasons to smile."

"I'm giving you a reason to do a lot more right now." Haewon reaches out, places her hands on your shoulders and then runs one of them down to your chest. Her soft tones and slow movement contrast how she digs her nails into your skin through your shirt.

She's right. And it's outright foolish to even still be clothed right now. It's easily fixed. You pull the hem of your shirt upwards, and Haewon raises her hands to let it go by before planting them down—now against your bare skin.

"Better," Haewon whispers as she runs her eyes down your upper body. “Now. How about I…” She lets the words roll slowly off her tongue as she buckles one knee and slowly falls to the other.

“Wait.” Determined to have your own say on the pace of this encounter, you halt Haewon. A word accompanied by a hand wrapped around her nape. You pull back as you lean forward, taking her heart-shaped lips with your own. Capturing them with audible assertion, you engage her with gumption. It only lasts a moment before Haewon twists free and captures her breath. 

Inches apart, yet connected by a fine silk string of saliva. Lips not touching but still kissed with the heat of each other’s breath. Her eyes holding you in a grasp that her hands couldn’t manage. There’s no guarantee. This could be one of many times, or it could never happen again, so you can forgive yourself for enjoying the heat of this moment for a little.

“No more waiting,” Haewon snaps. Keeping her waiting almost feels criminal—though that’s nothing compared to what will come next.

She slips your grasp and retakes hold of the wheel, driving her way inside your shorts. In the blink of an eye, they’re by your ankles, and her delicate touch meets your delicate parts. Her fingers find their way over every part of your growing cock. She tickles, pulls, tugs and rolls it around in her touch.

“I missed this,” Haewon says under hot breath as she pulls her hands away, admiring your length with only her eyes.

“I missed you,” you confess. And not a word of a lie. How could anyone not miss this pretty girl with her perfect touch?

“Really?” Her expression half one of happiness and half unsure of your honesty.

“Really.” Your answer triggers Haewon’s next move. She positions herself dangerously close to your semi-erect cock, such that each breath kisses it with heat and forces a small twitch. With parted lips, Haewon’s tongue slips from her mouth and hooks it underneath the tip. But she doesn’t rest on her laurels, instead, she pulls her head upwards, her tongue lifting your cock upwards. She holds it there for a second, suspended in the air.

Haewon presses forwards, pursing her lips into a snug fit for the head of your cock. Retracting her tongue to guide you into her. It’s a swift move, one of elegance and precision that ends with most of your cock nestled into her mouth.

You’d be forgiven for thinking that her tongue has done its job, got you where you needed to be and then would take a rest. Alas, it simply begins the second part of its performance. It slides. It swirls. It wraps around your cock in patterns that seemed impossible. You glance down, Haewon has her eyes closed in pure concentration. 

She’s giving her everything, her whole fucking soul to one thing—

Your pleasure. 

What could be a minute—or could be more—passes. Time is a concept beyond your current comprehension. The whole world could be in reverse right now and Haewon’s swirling tongue would make you none the wiser. 

Haewon’s cheeks hollow as she sucks hard on your dick, accompanied by a backward movement of her head. With just her mouth, she pulls your hips forward until you’re forced to pull back to maintain balance. What went in is nothing compared to what came out. Haewon wipes away the spit running from her lips and admires it. Your cock stands stiff, smothered and dripping with saliva that reflects the light above.

“I really fucking missed it,” Haewon says, wrapping her hand around the shaft. “I need it.” She gives you every reason to be confident in yourself, and given how fixated her eyes are; you have every reason to believe her.

“What about you?” Haewon continues. “Did you miss this?”

Haewon keeps hold of you for balance, throwing her other hand behind her head and leaning backwards. Her knees on the floor, legs slightly open, with her thighs pressing down against her calves, accentuating their softness. 

"I really fucking missed it. I need it," You copy her, word for word, with the same playful tone.

“Of course you did. That’s so obvious.” Haewon speaks as she climbs to her feet. “So when are you going to stop fucking around?” 

With a wave of hair washing over your face, Haewon spins and steps back into you, then nestles her head back into your shoulder and her ass against your bare crotch.

“Do I have to keep throwing myself at you or are you going to take me?” She brings her hand to her face while she speaks and once she stops, drops a pool of saliva into her palm. 

“You’re such a red flag, Haewon.”

“That so?" She pauses for a moment to allow a pool of saliva to fall from her lips into the palm of her hand. "I guess I see it.” Haewon continues a conversation in parallel, yet unrelated, to her actions. Her hand finds your length again, adding to the copious fluids before placing it between her plump cheeks where just a thin piece of fabric prevents a happy accident. “What kind of girl just throws herself at someone in a classroom, then follows him into a toilet, right? What, do you think I do this to everyone?”

“I don’t know what to think, and that’s the red flag. What happened to a nice dinner and getting to know eachother?” 

She’s pushing down on your hips, making you lower your body, your cock sliding down against her pants until you go low enough for it to slip between her legs. A small nudge back and you’re stuck. Trapped on three sides, the tops of her thighs on either side and the sticky warmth in her underwear above.

“I think we're a little bit past that already, this is the real test of chemistry. Why waste time at dinner if you’re just going to disappoint after?”

“So that’s what this is, an evaluation? Should I expect a score after?” The words are difficult to force past your throat when your breath is hitching. All because she’s rocking now, with her hips. Slowly backwards before snapping forward again. Engulfed in her soft flesh, there’s a gentle pressure on your cock. Enabled by her spit, you are parting her thighs and pressing against her warmth each time she sets back.

“Satisfactory.” Blunt. Almost offensive. Effective. A challenge has been set. Haewon twists her neck, peering over her shoulder.

“Satisfactory?”

“What, you’re going to get all upset now?” Haewon grins and picks up her pace, sliding her pillowy thighs over your cock, and throwing her body against yours. The thin film of sweat on her back is a little sticky against your chest.

“Not exactly.” You bring your hands into the action, a firm grip on one of her hips, burying your fingers into her flesh and the other guiding your arm around her upper body—pacifying her movements. You unbend your knees and un-sink your hips.

You continue, “why don’t you tell me what it takes to excel?” All the while pushing yourself away from the wall, and you guide Haewon forward before directing her to the right-hand wall. You manipulate her like a puppet suspended from strings—if the strings were your arms and your stiff cock jammed against her soaked panties.

“I like someone who knows when to take—” Haewon is cut off as she braces herself for a collision against the sink and the mirror behind it. 

“—control.”

With a hand in the centre of her back, you create momentary separation. Enough to slide down to your knees. You face her milky ass, divided in the middle by jet-black fabric. It’s mostly easy to slide the soft lace away from her hips and down her legs. The bit between her legs is the last to give way, the sticky mix of her wet pussy and your saliva needing it to be peeled away from her smoothly-shaven skin.

“And?” you ask, looking up and her glistening eyes, which yet again peer over her shoulder.

“Someone who knows what they want and how to take it.” You know exactly what you want. It’s destiny. Destiny is a funny name for the lips of her cunt peeking through the gap at the top of her thighs.

"Ah!" Haewon yelps as her glistening, fair skin accepts you—engulfs you—as you dive face-first into her. A hold on her hips enables you to dig deeper, propelling your mouth toward her delectable pussy. You'll make her wait for your verbal response as your mouth gets to work, lapping up any moisture you can find on her plump lips. 

"F-fffuck." Haewon curses under her breath as your tongue pierces into the tight folds of her cunt. Her thick thighs and voluminous ass don't make it easy on you to bury your tongue into her. An impossible combination of firm and soft which would send any man into spiralling wonderment.

Haewon fights. Struggles. Doing so verbally. Uttering instructions which fall upon deaf ears. Physically. Reaching out behind her in desperate attempts to grasp your hair. Each time she has a hold, there’s a moment of pain before another wave of pleasure numbs her grip, and her digits fall helplessly through your locks.

It's clear that she's scrambling for answers, for as much as she baited—even gaslit—this response from you, she didn't really expect it. Not like this. Maybe in a way that she could easily wrestle back control. But likely not in a way that would result in her being subdued against a sink. 

Yet here you are. With hands exploring all the parts of her body you fantasise about. Eating her cunt with ravenous intent. You're giving her your all. Really fucking giving her it. 

Looking up past her plump cheeks that fill most of your vision, the result is clear to see. Long gone is the fight, the resistance, even that intense stare she gave you. Her arms don't reach for you but instead look to support her trembling body. Her head is thrown forward as it spills out utter gibberish via her mouth. Half-words and full-truths. You're so good. You manage to piece that one together from the three attempts she took at it. 

Pointless words really. All the vindication you need runs from your chin and drips to the tiled floor.

Time stood still, or it sped up—one of them. Either way, the concept of linearity is lost on you. Lost somewhere in the time you spent eating her cunt. Lost somewhere among the myriad of curves her body presents, admired with a caress of your gaze and rhythmic touch.

It's both a vindication of your efforts and a desperate plea for more, the way she uses her hands on the wall, the mirror, the sink, and anything she can grab to force herself back against your mouth. She's absolutely insatiable, but, so are you.

A moment later and you’re back up to your feet, prying Haewon from the sink and twisting her, so her shoulders press against the wall. Your body pressed against hers. Lips pressed against another pair, your face soaked in liquid does nothing to prevent Haewon from kissing you. She looks different now. Bright red and flustered, the heat radiating from her face burns at your cheeks like you got a little too close to a fire. 

Somewhere shuffled into a series of kisses are Haewon’s breathy words, “I’m going to fuck you now.” followed by a push on your shoulders, planting you against the wall. While Haewon wraps her arms over your shoulders and around your neck, her legs around your hips and to your back, your mind calls back her earlier words. Someone who knows what they want, and how to take it.

Haewon clings to you. Your frame is her only support, with both your hands on her ass, holding her just one swift movement away from your cock. She said she was going to fuck you, and she is trying. Really fucking trying. But it’s about what you want, and how you take it.

“No, baby girl. I’m going to fuck you now.”

Another moment passes and the pendulum swings again in your favour. She has nothing to fight back with and you easily propel yourself away from the wall and send the two of you crashing into the wall opposite, narrowly missing the hand dryer and thankfully doing no damage to the mirror you plant her against. You figure that it's inevitable, that you'll pay in some form for today's actions, but a fine for damaging a public restroom is at the bottom of the preferred list.

"Tell me Haewon, who's going to fuck who?" you query, but it's rhetorical. You aren't open to negotiation or delay. You take ownership of the moment, pressing yourself up against her. Your face buried in the crook of her neck, licking along her chin and grinding your body against hers. With an arm wrapped around her waist, you pull her close, feeling the warmth from her bare cunt against your thigh. Your lips quickly find hers and you take her in a brief but passionate kiss, then her neck again—ravaging what skin she has exposed with kisses, nibbles, and licks, driving her wild as she grinds against your leg.

"Look at you, Haewon. I'm gonna fuck you so good. You want that, don't you baby?" She can't answer, she's already so overwhelmed, so you continue, "I need to hear you say it," you mumble to her between kisses.

"Y-yes," she barely croaks out. "F-fuck me..."

And that was your cue. There's a certain energy surging through your veins as you practically pry Haewon from the wall. Legs still hooked around your waist, arms thrown over your shoulders, forehead to forehead. With your own strength and aid from gravity, she sinks.

As does your cock. Inside her warm cunt. Wrapped in the tightness, feeling her warmth surround you. Haewon leans her head back, pressing her head against the wall and exposing her neck to you, which you use as an invitation to assault with your tongue and your teeth. You start slowly thrusting upwards into her, forcing small thrusts, each one pushing your body up onto the tips of your toes before settling again. Each forward push causing her body to tense, back arching into your chest.

"G-g-god," is about all you get from Haewon while her face rolls forward, eyelids fluttering open for a moment. Hair now a tangled mess across her face, her lips remain parted. The breaths she lets out through them are hot, dry, and barely audible.

Rather than allow the wave of pleasure rolling down her body to subside, you pick up the pace. Feet almost stomping up into her now. Her head is empty, save for a few select words; my cunt, your dick, so big, fuck me, and finally, the all-too-expected, why'd you stop?

While moments before you were doing all the work and she was little more than a fleshlight hooked on your waist, you want more. Re-situating yourself, slipping an arm under her left leg, so it lays in the crux of your elbow. And the same with the right. It doesn't take long to step away from the wall, the added support from your arms ensuring she doesn't fall to the floor. But now the power really is in your hands and you pivot the two of you around.

On this edge, Haewon is both your burden and your liberation. Feet adjusting on the floor and back sliding against the slick tiles, an arm on the sink and a hand digging itself against your shoulder. Dangling from your lap, thrusting wildly against her pussy. Squeezing your cock.

A silent taunt, a threat, a promise.

Any of the above, or all of the above. It doesn't matter which one, what matters is how you feel.

Feeling words can't describe—well, words probably can, but you're incapable of stringing them together right now. With a grip like steel on the soft padding of her ass, you whisper, "gonna make you cum."

"I can't—not like this."

You don't take the bait. You never did, and you never will. Always something she needs, always something you have to put in or give up. Fuck that. It's your time to put all the effort in and pull some satisfaction out of her.

"Like this," you say sternly and she shoots you a look and you fire one right back.

Haewon bites her lip, then her body slackens, her arms relax, and the tension dissipates. A nod for you to proceed as you wish. Which you will.

You grip her, hands clasped behind her back. Haewon reaches out, a hand on the sink, a forearm on the dryer. It's far from elegant but it's damn sure effective as you redden her thighs with the rhythmic slap of your hips.

Her moans are stifled by the drool pooling down her chin as her eyes roll backwards. Climactic gurgles and pained breaths fill the room, which is only half covered by the rush of water from the sink's faucet. Somehow, someway, Haewon's helplessly suspended foot had hit it. Not that either of you care.

"Cum for me." Your hips show her no mercy as you slow and hold each thrust with deliberate depth. With every inch you have to offer penetrating her sweet cunt as your final bid to achieve victory in this battle of wills.

"Ugh! Fuck!"

You didn't think she could tighten any more, but she does. As a shudder washes down her body from head to toe, Haewon lets loose, coating your cock with fluid as she goes limp in your grasp. With her still in your arms, you sink, bringing her down with you. Your bare ass hits the tiled floor and it bucks your hips into her still-tense cunt. The friction of her hot, soaked inner walls rubbing up against your length causes a low groan to erupt from you.

There's a short span, a transient moment, where the two of you are just there. Quiet. Close. Eye-to-eye. Both are naked and one still coming down from a high while the other is still on the cusp of achieving it. Both are completely vulnerable, no cover or modesty. Just flesh and her impending words.

Your silence prompts her.

"W-what about you?"

"What about me?" You answer with a question, a smirk on your lips as you feel her loosening her tight grip on your cock.

"Ugh, do I have to tell you to cum?"

"Don't worry, Haewon." Your assurance has little weight behind it. It's a preface. A statement, yet unfinished. Your eyes stare longingly at her. A well-placed pause allows your mind to linger on the lusty gaze, parted lips, and complete ease with the proximity. It's a moment worth taking advantage of and savouring. And that's just what you do. You let time tick past a second. Another. Another. And then it's a sentence completed as you finish with the actual words, "I was going to cum whether you tell me or not."

Another sudden move. Pushing your thighs upward, so her rear is supported, and a firm grip on her shoulders pulls her face towards yours. She gets it. Or at least she complies enough to lift herself a little and free your stiff cock. You hold her in a kiss as she takes hold of your cock. Haewon firmly squeezes you in her palm and begins to stroke, almost clinically as she concentrates fully. Her wetness lubricated your shaft. She doesn't linger. Her touch is swift and not lacking in determination or precision. You're all hers, and you have been this whole time.

The truth is simple enough; the act is no different from the countless times you've thought about her after last time, and how many times you've helped yourself to sweet thoughts. It's all the same. She's a blurry mess in your memories; all of the little moments when she lingered in your mind. And it's all the same now. So easy, the motions her fingers force you through. Her touch is unchanging and full of vigour. You're more than confident she would be the same, regardless of what position or state the two of you were in. It's perfect and she's perfect and—

"Fuck," you curse under your breath, so taken aback by what just happened. It took over you, gripping every fibre of your being in a way that even now, it feels foreign and a little numbing. Your chest rises and falls, desperately trying to get as much air into your lungs.

Haewon flashes a smile, she knew. How could she not know? That's why it wasn't necessary to utter the word. Haewon lets herself sink back, lying between your legs. You look down at her. That flushed and sticky face. The tangled locks of her hair. The playful tongue perched on her lower lips and the grin behind it. Those eyes full of satisfaction observing her own body and the mess you made on her stomach.

That fucking smile.

She's all yours, and she has been this whole time.

***

You knew they were talking about it. Everyone in the whole damn building knew and it had only been a week.

The whispers of everyone you walked past tainted your ears. The eyes of passers-by and the stifled giggles of the stationary huddles. Word got out somehow and it was the next big thing. Sure it would pass in a week, but for now its was your name and Haewon's on everyone's lips.

If only they knew. If only they knew that right now you were heading to the locked library that Haewon had stolen the key for so you could fuck each other senseless while you skipped a class. Then they would really have something to talk about. Maybe she was the bad influence and not you. Or maybe you were a bad influence too.

Or maybe you were a good influence. That's the one that appealed to you. You have to admit, you were more attentive now. You found her more beautiful now than you had previously. You really did have an attraction. An affinity with her. It wasn't purely physical and that had to mean something. You didn't plan for this, but you're in it now.

That's the thing about trouble. You don’t look for it. It finds you. 

[utilitycaster]

An ongoing theme, with regards to the gods (as opposed to Predathos and the Imperium) is that of free will. The gods are stringent in collecting on promises made, and the Betrayers will use initial consent as license to act freely, but it’s notable, in a campaign where nearly all the main player characters are shaped by entities that never once gave them a choice, the gods require an invitation. Except, worryingly, Predathos, a being of nigh-divine powers who does not seem bound by this limitation. And, of course, mortals can do as they will.

When Lolth overtakes Opal, the fact that Opal assumed both the crown, and the title of champion, willingly, is repeatedly mentioned, in DM narration and by Lolth herself. Lolth also mentions to Dorian, (perhaps untruthfully, though the events of EXU indicate this might be genuine), that she wished for him to become her champion instead - but he did not put on the crown, so she can’t have him. Obviously, Lolth takes many liberties with Opal once given entry, but she can only speak to people or act through someone who has permitted her. We see this too with Asmodeus: it is ultimately Zerxus’s choice not to walk away and face his death, but make good on his pact; some degree of initial consent is needed. K’nauth and Judicators are also both explicitly described as voluntary: once permission is given, they are bound, but this is no different than the contracts of warlocks and notably, with the gods, while we’ve seen them make deals under dire straits, we’ve never seen such unwitting participants in their pacts as Fjord with Uk’otoa or Laudna with Delilah among the gods. All entered in control of their faculties, to our knowledge, though not necessarily with the full knowledge of what it entailed.

The Prime Deities are differentiated from the Betrayers in that they continue to provide free will to their champions and their faithful. The Raven Queen accepts Vax’s trade of his life for Vex’s, given without any direct communication from her, but she quickly does begin to communicate clearly; when Vax communes with her in Duskmeadow, she tells him what she wishes, putting him much more at ease. Later, after his death, she gives him an option to either remain dead, or to have a little more time left with Keyleth, Vex, and the others of Vox Machina before he completes his task and returns to her, and he makes a choice. When Morrighan asks for guidance, the Raven Queen’s response is to ask “why are you fighting, and what are you fighting for?” and stresses that she wishes to lay out the exact terms before Morrighan agrees to anything. When Percy asks her what to do she, ironically enough for a goddess of fate, tells him he possesses the capacity to do great things of his own accord. All of Vox Machina’s divine favors come willingly, only after a conversation; the Wildmother first reaches out to Fjord before he decides to accept. And mortals have the capacity to resist even these promises; Opal is only partially successful but she does not give the Spider Queen two deaths and she does not leave alone. Fy’ra Rai finds herself able to go against Lolth’s wishes even when the Wildmother does not wish to intervene; it is her choice not to kill Opal but to go with her.

When mortals express doubt in the gods, it’s typically not their actions. It’s because they don’t think they meddle in the matters of mortals enough. As mentioned, Percy struggles with the open-ended nature of the Raven Queen’s advice. Essek, frequently considered an “anti-god” character is actually quite mild in his doubt and ultimately more frustrated at the clerics of the Kryn Dynasty than the Luxon itself (put a pin in that). Ludinus Da’leth states the gods should have prevented the Calamity, despite us knowing that the Prime Deities avoided intervention and that ultimately, while the Calamity had a number of causes, mortals (Vespin, Laerryn, much of the city of Avalir) were at the root. Ashton and Imogen’s frustrations with the gods have both ultimately been that they asked for assistance and did not receive it.

The extension of the Prime Deities’ belief in the free will of mortals is sufficiently strong that even during the Age of Arcanum, when many mortals rejected them, and when they did not require mortal intermediaries, they still chose to preserve it until the Calamity began. Each major action by the gods as a group is ultimately one to preserve themselves (the sealing of Predathos; the destruction of Aeor; the current campaign’s truce) or to preserve mortals (the Primes during the Schism and in creating the Divine Gate).

Contrast this with Delilah, who seizes control of Laudna and who is never stated to have asked permission for any of her actions. Compare to FCG, designed by Aeorians to lose control and kill. Compare to Chetney, bitten by a werewolf in the wilderness (and the others of the Gorgynei as well) - indeed, what control he has is the legacy of magic granted by the Raven Queen and by a nature spirit tied to the Wildmother. Contrast this now with Predathos, whose Ruidusborn had no say in this connection and indeed, many are motivated in service to Predathos with the goal of freeing themselves. Enforcers within the Kreveris Imperium refer to themselves as The Will, and Elder Barthie refers to those who oppose them as being made “pliable”. Chetney’s loss of control under Ruidus is deliberately triggered by the Weave Mind, with whom he made no deal.

If we (in my opinion, rightfully) reject any argument that denies the right of sentient entities to self-preservation, we are left with the following accusations of the gods: failing to stop wrongdoing by mortals (both in their name and unrelated); and acting in accordance with pre-existing agreements. The latter we can also reject; it is not perhaps kind of the gods to hold people to their contracts, but this is not unique to them and as discussed extensively above, they do require that, at least initially, the promise be made willingly.

The former, unfortunately, will not be stopped by destroying the gods. Ultimately, such people as Tuldus, Bor’Dor, and the people of Hearthdell were oppressed by their fellow mortals. In-world, we have seen zealotry in the name not just of the Prime Deities but that of countless lesser ones, notably Uk’otoa; if only the Prime and Betrayer gods are at stake, this simply creates a power vacuum to be filled by other entities vastly more powerful than mortals. On the other hand, should all power-granting entities be devoured, setting aside the upheaval this will cause in society, this leaves no shortage of room for oppression on the basis of race or political affiliation, both of which we’ve seen. The Tal’Dorei Campaign Setting’s original incarnation, prior to the further development of Wildemount for Campaign 2, even stated the Dwendalian Empire forbade all religion and was still an authoritarian one. Colonization is the end goal of the Weave Mind and indeed the motivation for killing the gods per Edmuda. It also is not unheard of on Exandria for reasons not attributed to religion, notably the settling of the Menagerie Coast by Marquesians, and Tal’Dorei (formerly Gwessar) by human settlers from Issylra. And, of course, as we know in our real world, you do not need provable deities for religion to develop nor for colonization and oppression. Mortals do these things in reality and Exandria, whether or not the gods exist, and destroying the gods in Exandria achieves no prevention, only carnage.

Returning, finally, to Essek: when we look at the major characters who are PCs or are aligned with them who have expressed frustration with the gods, the only one who has much of a case for being influenced by the actions of a deity is Percy, who is staunchly on the side against Predathos. One could split hairs and note that Vecna was not a deity at the time of the murder of Percy’s family, his own torture, and the destruction and occupation of Whitestone, but rather merely a power-hungry wizard extending his lifespan via unscrupulous means, but Percy’s own choices render this moot. Meanwhile, the gods simply did not alleviate Imogen and Ashton’s experiences, both of which were in part due to powers caused by entities the gods, in fact, failed to sufficiently destroy (Predathos and Ka’Mort specifically) and mostly perpetuated by mortals reacting to Imogen’s abilities or Ashton finding themself orphaned on the outskirts of a notoriously rough city and later, caught as the fall guy in a failed heist by a morally questionable wealthy collector.

It is my belief that Keyleth’s anger is, on some level, extended towards someone who can’t respond nor change and who she feels she cannot be angry at, and that is Vax. Vax made the deal and the Raven Queen collected; Vax decided to take the Raven Queen’s second offer. He was forced into neither, and as discussed later, he likely would have responded poorly to a True Resurrection attempt given his faith. Vax is dead because of Vecna, but neutralizing Vecna didn’t fix it. I think Dorian’s anger at Lolth meanwhile is valid, but it’s also something I’d imagine he feels he cannot direct towards Opal, even though her actions are a part of it. And I’m sure both Keyleth and Dorian blame themselves, to an extent, whether or not that is rightful. The gods make just as convenient a scapegoat for those hurt by mortals as they do an excuse for cruelty.  But I don’t think killing them will bring back Vax, and certainly not Cyrus. Much as Derrig and Will and four other Ashari lie permanently dead at the hands of Otohan Thull despite her demise, and Orym’s trauma remains, killing the gods will not undo what happened to Imogen or Ashton. And since their main crime is considered to be inaction, killing them does not end suffering (and, indeed, should we dig into the infrastructures of Exandrian society and cosmology, may very well drastically increase it). It merely confirms that no one will receive their favor rather than only some; a bringing everyone down to your misery rather than striving to elevate all. An apt, if slightly tongue-in-cheek comparison to the real world is the fact that the cause of student loan forgiveness has been hamstrung and neutered by people furious that, since they didn’t receive help, no one else should - it is a self-centered and retaliatory mentality to lash out so far in jealousy that one would willingly destroy the life of another with the goal of increasing universal suffering.

Sources:

Timestamps available upon request but here are the episodes I’m drawing from. Printed works include pages.

Lolth, Opal, and Dorian: see 3x92-93; see also EXU Prime episode 8, EXU Kymal episode 2 for Opal willingly accepting and EXU Prime episodes 5 and 7 for the Spider Queen trying to get Dorian to put on the circlet.

K’nauth: EXU Calamity episode 2

Asmodeus and Zerxus: EXU Calamity episode 4

Judicators: 3x43

The Raven Queen and Vax: notably 1x44 (initial deal), 1x57 (Duskmeadow communion), 1x103 (her offering him the choice to pass or to become a revenant). Percy is also in 1x57.

The Raven Queen and Morrighan: 3x93.

Vox Machina’s divine favors: 1x104-1x106

Fjord and the Wildmother: 2x65; powers granted in 2x76.

Fy’ra and the Wildmother: 3x93

Essek’s feelings: see the final portion of this excellent post from essektheyless

Ludinus on the gods: 3x45

For causes of the Calamity, see EXU Calamity in its entirety, but Vespin specifically is episode 4, many of Avalir’s actions (including ignoring the hall of prophecy) are episode 2, and Laerryn denying the Arboreal Calix needed energy and casting Blight are in episode 3).

Ashton on the gods: 3x65

Imogen on the gods: 3x79

See page 12 of The Explorer’s Guide to Wildemount regarding the Prime Deities’ choice not to enforce their will during the Age of Arcanum.

Sealing of Predathos: 3x43; destruction of Aeor: EGTW 121; Truce mentioned in 3x67 and has appeared in 3x89 (Vezoden) and 3x92-93 (The Wildmother and Lolth).

Schism: EGTW 12; Divine Gate EGTW 13-14.

Delilah seizing control: 3x23

FCG’s design: 3x32 and 3x45

Chetney and Gorgynei (history and control): 3x40-41

Weave Mind control of Chetney: 3x91

Goals of Ruidusborn: multiple but see 3x48 and 3x89, 3x92 for a strong example with Liliana.

Imperium practices: 3x84

Tuldus: 3x44. Bor’Dor: 3x63. Hearthdell: 3x60-61.

Actions of Uk’otoa: much of Campaign 2 but notably 2x98 and The Mighty Nein Reunited.

Original description of the Dwendalian Empire: Tal’Dorei Campaign Setting (not Reborn) page 99

Goals of the Weave Mind: 3x85

Colonization of the Menagerie Coast: EGTW 17 (largely a peaceful one); Colonization of Tal’Dorei: Tal’Dorei Campaign Setting Reborn page 18 (explicitly stated to be against the wishes of the elves; led in part to the rule of Drassig and Scattered War).

Percy and Vecna: Vecna ascends in 1x106; the events of the Whitestone Occupation begin prior to campaign 1. Percy is in multiple war councils against the Vanguard and notably appears in the plans for a distraction to allow Bells Hells to take the Bloody Bridge in 3x81.

Imogen and Predathos: the revelation that Predathos may be within exaltants comes in 3x92; 3x83 and 3x87 both have involuntary experiences due to Predathos and see Liliana’s arguments in 3x48 as well as Imogen’s discussion of Gelvaan.

Ashton and Ka’Mort: emotional fallout most notably in 3x78; Evontra’vir’s description of what happened with the shard in 3x74. Memories of the Hexum Manor heist can be seen in 3x35.

[laundrybiscuits]

“I need your help to find Robin a girlfriend,” says Steve.

Eddie shuts the door in his face.

“You know I’m not gonna just leave, man!” Steve hollers through the door. “Come on, let me in, we gotta, like—strategize.”

“No!” Eddie yells back, loud as he can. “Fuck off!”

Gratifyingly, he hears Steve stumble a little. It’s not a thick door, and Steve must’ve been right up next to it.

“Don’t you want Robin to be happy?” says Steve, at a much more normal volume. “She thinks you guys are pretty close, you know.”

Now that’s just dirty pool. Sure, it turns out he and Robin get along pretty well; sure, they’ve been thick as thieves ever since Robin inquired in a rambling roundabout way if certain rumors were true, and Eddie allowed as to how they might be. So what? Not like it means Eddie has to let himself be suckered into whatever hare-brained scheme Harrington’s cooked up now.

He tells himself all of this, then sighs and opens the door anyway. 

“Okay, Harrington, come in and explain so I can tell you why this is a bad idea in excruciating detail.”

Steve smirks all smug and insufferable, and pushes past Eddie to sprawl on the couch.

“So, you know how the Vickie thing ended, right?”

Eddie shrugs. He kind of does, but he’s pretty sure he missed some things. He’s never gotten the full run-down or anything like that, he’s just rubbed Robin’s back as she got spectacularly drunk about it and puked in a bush.

“Anyway, it’s been like three months, and Robin’s still moping. She’s gotta put herself out there again, like getting back on a horse.”

“Bet she loved you telling her that,” says Eddie.

“Exactly, so, we should team up and do some of the legwork before I bring it up again. Set her up for success. I’ve got the charm, and you’ve got…” Steve gestures vaguely in Eddie’s general direction.

“A killer music collection? Impeccable personal style? Terrible taste in friends?”

“No, man, you’re—I mean, you’re gay, right?” Steve looks suddenly uncertain. It’s not like it’s a secret, obviously, but they haven’t talked about it in so many words before. 

“Yeah, more or less,” says Eddie. It’s not like he’s never ever seen the appeal of any woman, but—yeah, more or less. Close enough for government work. 

Steve claps his hands together decisively, like some kind of dorky Little League coach. “Great! Great, that’s perfect. So I can help Robin with the whole flirting-with-girls thing, and you can handle the gay stuff.”

Eddie bats his eyelashes and grins like the compulsively self-sabotaging dumbass he is. “Well, usually I make pretty boys buy me a drink before I handle any of their gay stuff.”

Steve Harrington, the little shit, isn’t phased at all. “You saying I’m not pretty enough for you, Eddie?” he drawls, leaning back and kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. 

Eddie wonders if he can get away with lying down on the floor for a minute to recover. He probably can’t, so he just takes the psychic damage and swerves back to his main point.

“Look, Harrington, I think we should just let Buck find her own way. Be free, spread her wings, et cetera.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, uh-huh. If we do that, she’s gonna turn into some kind of weird hermit and never talk to another girl in her life. We’re on her team, right? We gotta get her confidence up so she can ride into the sunset with the babe of her dreams.” 

Eddie drags his hands down his face, wishing desperately that Steve were just a tiny bit less…whatever this is, so his goddamn heart could maybe catch a break. 

“I could really use a hand here, Eddie,” Steve says. He frowns a little, pressing his lips together and glancing away. “I know there’s stuff I don’t…I just don’t want to screw this up for Robin, okay? She deserves to be happy, but I need you to make sure I don’t do anything too dumb.”

“Think that one might be a lost cause,” says Eddie, but he collapses onto the couch with a resigned sigh. “Just—talk me through what you’ve got, okay?”

Steve lights up, throwing an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and shaking him a little, pulling him tight against Steve’s side. “Yes! Okay! Let’s do this!”

This is going to be a test of fortitude, but at least Eddie’s pretty sure it’ll all be over soon. How long can it possibly take to find a girlfriend for Robin Buckley?

[hollowsart]

What if I was Doc Ock?

(Acedia used in place of my name)

Spider-Man looks over at Acedia, seeing the state she is in and after hearing her side of the events and seeing the remains of the lab around them. Acedia is wearing pants and a shirt that doesn't appear to be her own. she is exposed and uncomfortable in her posture and how she holds herself. The injuries of bruises and scratches and dust on her form. The tears staining her face, her reddened eyes from her crying and outburst.

And he turns to see Norman, angry and dusting himself off with that same expression on his face that he is always sporting.. but there's something underneath it. Spider-Man can feel it. Norman walks over, his movements reading like this is nothing more than a minor inconvenience, and that he has more important things to busy himself with.

Spider-Man didn't let the man speak.

(Continued below + a ton of extra info. This is VERY LONG, you've been warned)

"Your own worker? Your own employee? You're willing to put your people at such high risks and in such conditions at this? Exposed to all the hazards and more within a lab? The first rule of lab safety is to be properly dressed. Does she look properly dressed to you?" he waves his arms in Acedia's direction. She flinches, rubbing her sore arms and wiping at her face. She winces as she hits a cut, her attention turning away from the other two, brow knitting with concern and annoyance with her own sorry state.

Spider-Man continued.

"Either you never spent a day in a lab yourself to know that, or you just don't care. And I'm really starting to believe it's the latter."

He turns to look at Acedia again, walking up to her, a hand reached out but never touching. "Look, are you alright? Do you need some help getting out of here? I can take you--" Acedia jumps, not expecting the approach. An actuator whipped around him and knocked him away out of reflex.

"AH-- I'M SO SORRY. I.. I-I don't-- I don't know why it did that-- I--?!"

Norman smiles, a small chuckle caught in his throat at the sight. It may not be a success how he wanted, but it appears the arms were a success in other ways.

"You two need to get out of my lab and out of my building before I have the authorities alerted. I need this place cleaned up. Immediately. Oh, and Acedia? You're fired. I'll have your stuff thrown out in the dumpster tonight. We won't be needing it. Goodbye."

Spider-Man groans as he stands up, Acedia gasps and looks over at Norman, shock and offense flashing on her face. Her eyes followed him as he walked casually out the door. Her expression shifted to that of hatred as the tears started to well up again, and her hands clenched tightly. Spider-Man is back at his feet. He clears his throat and speaks up again.

"..Listen, I'm.. I'm so sorry. I guess I should've said something first before..." he trails off a moment, "Will you be alright? Do you need any help? I'd offer a hand, but.. uhm.. it seems you've already got more than plenty." He awkwardly chuckles at his attempt to make light of the current situation. Acedia sniffs, looking him up and down before shakily offering her hand.

"..It's okay. We should.. get out of here. Like he said."

"What about your stuff? You want me to go get it before it's all trashed?"

"..I'm no one special, just an assistant. I don't have much. Nothing of value, anyway.. But you're welcome to." She says, giving him the directions to the lab she was assigned and shared, as well as repeating her name.

"Got it. I'll be out in a jiffy. And hey, everyone's special in their own way."

Acedia can't help the smile.

"Thanks."

"No problem. You should go get some medical help if you can. I'll meet you wherever!" And with a thwip of his web, he's gone.

-------

Prologue to ^that^ and is the initial concept:

I'm not like a proper scientist, but an assistant. I do the testing and help the proper engineers and scientists within the company. However, I got roped by convenience into some stuff by Norman and the fact I was there at the wrong time.

Being too anxious to really speak up for myself and fight back. I just get bossed around despite me not wanting to, but I REALLY don't wanna make a scene cuz that just makes everything worse.

Anyways. One experiment involves the actuators, they don't want to test it on themselves, so they make me wear it cuz I'm just a replaceable assistant, it's sorta my job.

They don't have enough power for the arms and the experiment to work, so they start to boost the power and end up pumping too much that it gets dangerous and I end up getting shocked unconscious as things explode. Unable to actually escape from the arms and the machine area. While unconscious, when everything clears and everyone thinks the whole thing was a failure.. the actuators wake up and start moving the debris and everything away, shifting around and wobbily getting "footing" to lift me from the rubble.

Norman and whoever else was present is surprised that the arms are working just fine. In fact, they're working even better than expected. Norman even boasting that it was all his work and his idea, and while he's saying this, I'm waking up, not moving, but becoming conscious enough to hear the world around me. I hear Norman say something about "removing the body from the arms," and I panic and start to move, flailing as I'm registering that I'm now hanging from the arms off the ground. The arms understand the panic and react.

Something Something Norman gets grabbed and slammed. I'm crying and shouting and trying to tell off Norman for this experiment that nearly could have gotten me killed.

During this, Spiderman comes in and stops me, but he's more understanding with me since I'm clearly deeply upset, and he hears clearly the things I'm saying in my clear distress.

---

Origin:

Assistant who is used more as a means of testing new inventions and products within OsCorp. Happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time when Norman "required" me. End up in a somewhat more secure lab within the company building that I had no idea about. Get told I need to change due to my shirt and lab coat getting in the way, get given an open back tank top instead (I feel extremely uncomfortable and exposed). Get told to get up on the platform, and I'll be fitted for the testing. They keep wording and phrasing things in a way to try and coerce me into going along. Not enough power, pumps too much power, big explosion with electricity. I'm still alive, the arms are now very much active, Norman assumes I'm dead and gives word to the others in the room to clean up and to remove me from the harness. Big freak out and outburst against Norman, putting my foot down and telling him off. This leads to Spiderman's intervention. He comes in to hear me out and get an understanding of the situation. Clearly, one side is very much in the wrong here, and it sure as heck isn't the very much upset and injured exposed woman. Not really much happens here. Get fired and told to leave. At least make some level of "friend" with Spiderman.

Follow-up:

A strange package shows up at my apartment from OsCorp. Weird goggles are inside, and I'm highly suspicious and skeptical... but also a little stupid and can't resist seeing what I look like in funny eyewear. Bing bang boom, I am now hanging off the sides of buildings screaming and crying and unable to do anything as the actuators have gone rogue and my head keeps turning on its own and it's causing my anxiety and fear to skyrocket. The actuators are causing a lot of chaos and destruction, which soon enough alerts Spiderman into showing himself. The Goggles lock onto him, and the actuators take off to attack. A long struggle on Spiderman's side ensues. He sees how distressed I am and does his best to try and get through to me so I can think and potentially do SOMETHING to stop this. He brings up the goggles when I mention how it hurts amidst my sobbing and suggests removing the goggles. I do that despite how much it hurts because I'm so tired and fed up already with this. The goggles get removed and tossed away, which causes the arms to go erratic instead of being locked onto Spiderman. This allows him to be able to successfully stop what's happening. The chip, which was found to be the source of the actuators going haywire, is also eventually discovered afterward and removed. Norman was likely at fault here once again, but with that gone, he won't be making trouble anymore.

The final thing would be like..

I get befriended and picked up into a band of other people who have more of a criminal record than me, and we create the Sinister Six. I'm the ideas department offering ideas and advice for everyone as a whole or individually.

All of this works with how I am irl, but I do still end up being deemed a "villain" tho I don't really do much that's actively villainous. I'm just a victim of circumstances.

"Master Planner" ends up being more my occupation since I do have a lot of ideas to offer everyone else. (I am no Otto Octavius fjsvsjfg)

[operationslipperypuppet]

to expand lightly on my theory post regarding some of what might be afoot this season (devised and parsed through in collaboration with @stone-stars)

the actions against cassandra and kristen are a revenge plot, orchestrated by a combination of sol, galicaea, and helio. they each have their own vendettas contributing to this. sol has beef with kristen due to the “wholeheartedly reject all offers” scene, where he does turn on her first. he also was incapacitated in freshman year because she let aguefort into his domain. i imagine a sun god isn’t super pleased that there were 4 months of endless night. he also might not like cassandra due to who she used to be. helio once chose kristen and continued to supply her with spells despite her rejection of him and his teachings. she refused to spend any time with him and literally punched him in the face. he’s got some baggage there, for sure. galicaea experienced the first time kristen and cassandra connected, her attempt at convincing kristen was disrupted by the goddess eventually known as cassandra. her followers were responsible for killing the initial version of cassandra. her followers are now facing a revival due to tracker’s pilgrimage (kristen’s ex) and she’s just petty enough to blame kristen for that. plus, her snooty self hated her wolfy side. this revival would arguably make the snootier elves double down on that hatred. as above, so below.

the goings on against fig and the establishment of her cool new horrible luck are probably coming from a devil. the pride armor vision showed that it had ties to that sort of thing. and devils are lawful. fig is not. her ascension into the seat of the bottomless pit was on a technicality and the people who presided over it immediately hated that it happened. she’s been busy (she’s a mortal teen attempting to save the world) and has neglected her hellish domain on a similar level to her father, who lost his job about it. the lawful operatives running hell would not take kindly to that. so they could (would) reach out to her in a moment of her weakness and hand off a curse, as punishment. because hell is also about punishment.

now, i’m sure you’re thinking: why are these in the same post? easy. because i think they’re connected.

the rage stones that were corrupting cassandra and the mages were similar to what happened to ragh’s mom, as zac figured out. lydia is in a medically prolonged state of rage to keep the devil in her chest at bay. (there are some discrepancies over whether it’s a devil or a demon. but i trust ragh to know those minor details over arthur “i forgot to tell lydia i was doing this” aguefort). if something kept back by a prolonged state of rage was given leave to attempt its influence on something (on the astral plane, no less, where rules are almost always different), perhaps its influence would be rage inducing. and, just as she was taken over by one of these stones, kalina, who knew about lydia’s status in sophomore year since she did try to kill lydia, called out “ragh barkrock!”, bringing up another clear and direct connection.

the nightmare king sided with demons during the blood wars. the devils trapped the nightmare king in the forest (this is why arianwen needed gorthalax and why fig’s promotion was vital to their success). the devils would probably want to fight back. the gods we’ve met would probably dislike the imbalance that comes from establishing a new god, especially one who is a riff on one they already destroyed (cassandra establishes that she is not the same goddess she was before her sister killed her. but there have to be similarities. and maybe galicaea doesn’t know that).

the first time we meet our beloved garthy o’brien, they talk about how devils (they say fiends but are explicitly talking about devils and not demons) and celestials and gods are not simply opposed. they’re part of a system that balances out all its parts. angels fall. devils could rise. they work together as part of a bigger system.

so. so. if two specific mortals and their merry band of idiot friends are in direct opposition to some of the most powerful and petty entities in the universe, would they not want to perhaps join forces to attempt to take them down? especially if it could come from freeing one (“important”) devil from decades of being trapped, restoring balance further?

bonus here is the idea that bill seacaster’s goal in hell is to “kill the devil himself”, and perhaps he’s getting too close for comfort and balance must be maintained somehow. and what better way to distract him than by threatening his son?

plus, we know cassandra’s “i thought you were dead” wasn’t directed at kalina or the nightmare king. but maybe, in her brief time back as a god, she noticed the absence of a particular devil. and thought they might have died, when they were actually just trapped.

all that being said, it’s a fun theory to me and maybe we’re completely wrong. but everything we thought about more made it make more sense, which is a wild experience.

[amymbona]

I’m gonna need to know more about what happened after this!

He probably tells you about the boner few days later, leaving out that it was a result od seeing you in that beautiful dress. Just mentions some random model on the TV that he doesn't even find sexy at all. You're still kinda pissed at him, but the good news are enough to warm your angry heart.

Things continue in the same lane: practice two times a day, three proper meals and some snacks, helping Patrick wash himself and moving him from the wheelchair onto his bed. The arguments seem to have evaporate ld and you're happier too. Actually, you're literally glowing, spending some more time on your phone now that Patrick has stopped being a bitch and can go a few minutes without you assistance.

You manage to convince him to go out for a walk (or a drive, in the correct terminology) as well. At first, Patrick is hesitant, not wanting to deal with paparazzi that might be lurking around his place. He's not really that oblivious to the press and has read some articles that his manager sent him about you, a mysterious nurse living with the injured tennis star. Luckily, your calm and collected self is almost fully out of touch with social media, so it doesn't concern you, but Patrick is really fucking pissed.

You take him out for a stroll anyway, just around the neighbourhood. Patrick is all moody, muttering how he should have stayed at home instead, even though no one is particularly concerned by his sudden public appearance. And when two teenage boys approach the two of you, excitedly begging for a picture with Patrick, he can't refuse them. That's how the word spreads that he is doing much better.

You begin disappearing more often too, mostly in the evenings, your atrocious colleague filling in for you. Patrick hates the lady. She's even younger than you, constantly watching the TV or painting her nails. For the delicacy she spreads the pink nail polish with, her hands feel almost harsh on Patrick's body. Cold, weird, dishonest, and without a single attempt for gentle care. And the final thing that makes Patrick absolutely despise her is when she lets her mouth run loose and lets him know that you've been seeing some guy.

Patrick is furious, to say at least, absolutely fuming. It's like his whole world crumbles, like his whole world that the two of you have built crumbles and he's reduced to the same immobile shit he was three months ago. He... He thought you had a something. A connection. Doesn't it look like that? Your kind smiles directed at him, despite his childish behaviour, the way you stroke his shoulders and back when he's hurting, allowing him to rest his hand on your own chest when he gives you the puppy eyes. He's sure that you know him like the back of your hand, that you're the only person who truly believes in him, in his success, that he will heal. He's healing for you.

So one evening, when you're out on one of your stupid days, Patrick does the most idiotic thing possible. He hasn't attempted to walk yet, but a sudden wave of something close to rage, disdain, and maybe jealousy possesses him to get up from the wheelchair. He grips the back of his office chair, knees wobbly and weak, and then kicks his bare foot against the foot of the bed. And then again, and again, and again. He abuses himself until something snaps, a bone, presumably, and he falls to the ground with tears.

You rush to the hospital in one of your pretty dresses, having abandoned your mister perfect after receiving a call. Patrick is furious, refusing to let anyone else treat him, insisting that you are the only one who can touch him. He doesn't care that you're not s doctor, that you can't heal a broken foot in any way, but he won't allow anyone to do a single thing until you're by his side.

The side you're met with is a complete tragedy. The most furious and at the same time miserable version od Patrick you've ever seen. Laid on the white table and surrounded by a bunch of professionals, screaming, cursing and threatening to sue them if they dare lay a hand on him. You rush to his side, unable to remain angry, not when he's in pain. You only were told that he fell, that he hurt himself, and so you immediately begin questioning him, calling him stupid and exclaiming what the hell has he done. Patrick just squeezes your hand tightly and says it was an accident.

You spend the night huddled up in an uncomfortable plastic chair by Patrick bed, listening to the beeping rhythm of his heart, almost too calm for what has happened, his right foot covered by a heavy, white cast. Patrick almost begins feeling guilty when he wakes up, eyes settling on your poor form, the skirt od your pretty dress wrinkled from the uncomfortable night spent in the hospital. But it doesn't take too long for a smirk to replace the frown. He's happy, satisfied. You spent the night with him, not your stupid date.

[slaymitchabernathy]

Mr. President

President Coriolanus Snow who has worked so hard to get where he is right now.

He’s the poster child for Capitol success.

Orphaned during the war, stellar student at the Academy despite his dwindling financial situation, winner of the Plinth Prize, and top of his class.

Snow lands on top.

So when he becomes President of Panem, he’s not surprised in the slightest.

He’s ruthless during the election, doing whatever needs to be done to eliminate his opponents. It pays off in the end, he’s sworn in and all the power in the world rests in his hands.

Then he has to get married.

His advisors had suggested he do so before becoming President but he didn’t have time, didn’t want to think about letting someone get that close to him, see the good, the bad, and the ugly.

Which is why when he does get married, it’s strictly business.

Until it’s not.

Soarynn Nightingale was an obvious choice. She was classy, smart, kind, and above all she was beautiful.

He really just needed her to get everyone else off his back. They’d have some children, smile for the cameras and that would be that. And in the beginning, it was just as he had planned.

In public, they were head over heels for each other. It’s not like he hated Soarynn. She was fine, always respected his decisions, and most importantly, she played the part. She was Coriolanus Snow’s doting wife who selflessly devoted herself to her husband and her country. She attended every event she was invited to, she spoke highly of him whenever she was interviewed and she always knew how to turn it on for the cameras.

She was a perfect match.

It wasn’t hard for him to look charmed by her presence. Soarynn was enchanting in her own way, but he couldn’t afford to get too close. So he kept her at arm's length. They slept in the same bed together, had breakfast together and then they went their separate ways. It was easier this way.

He doesn’t notice how pretty she looks when she’s still asleep. He always wakes up before her and he definitely doesn’t glance in her direction, watching as she breathes in and out, her chest rising up and down. And he certainly doesn’t get a tight feeling in his pants whenever she wears those godforsaken nightgowns to bed. No, he doesn’t do any of that.

He’s the President of Panem, not some head-over-heels schoolboy.

He never wishes for more than a complimentary kiss whenever he leaves for work. Why would he want to be kissed by her when he’s so busy? He has an entire country to run, he can’t be bothered with frivolous nonsense.

And he definitely doesn’t think about bending her over at the breakfast table and sinking deep into her cunt. No, he never does that.

Neither of them feels the need to talk about it. How on their wedding night they just went to bed, never consummated the marriage. Her father promised she’d never been touched, that she was a virgin. As if Coriolanus gave a fuck. He needed a wife, not a whore. He didn’t care what she was like beyond her charming personality and her kind demeanor.

So he paid her no mind when she’d give him a soft smile, or touch his arm for just a moment when asking him a question. He never watched her get undressed when they were both getting ready for bed.

He’s sure she’s been expecting it, for him to take her under him and claim what’s rightfully his. But once again, Coriolanus Snow is a very busy man.

Until he’s not.

Until he’s had about enough of these teasing antics. He can’t keep his eyes off of her tonight and she’s doing nothing out of the ordinary. She’s sitting on the carpet, playing with Petunia before they retire for the evening. For Soarynn’s birthday, Coriolanus had bought her a sweet little kitten, figuring she’d appreciate the company since he’s gone for the majority of the day.

So every night before bed she plays with the cat, giggling whenever Petunia does something cute. He can’t help but notice how the strap of her nightgown falls off her shoulder, slightly exposing herself to him. Not that she cares or notices, not when he’s all the way over here sitting on the edge of the bed, carefully taking off his cuff links as he does every night.

They’ve established a routine of sorts for bedtime and he knows the next step will be rising from the bed and walking into the closet where Soarynn will follow suit and brush her teeth in the bathroom.

He stays on the bed.

He stays on the bed because as the President of Panem, you’d think he’d be getting a little more action. Sure he could fuck his secretary or some random girl off the street, but why would he when he has his beautiful, willing wife right in front of him?

It would be a waste of a perfectly good marriage.

“Darling,” he says, watching her pick up the cat. Soarynn looks up at him, her eyes slightly widened, “Yes?” She asks, such innocence in her tone. He knows she’s not doing it on purpose, not trying to tease him or rile him up. Soarynn would never do that. Since day one she’s been his good little wife, not some vixen from his wildest dreams. But it seems she’s become just that without even trying.

“Come here.” The look of surprise on her face is quickly smoothed over with a small smile as she slowly pushes herself from the floor, ignoring Petunia’s meow of protest. Soarynn stops right in front of him, her hands clasped behind her back like the good girl she is.

Since marrying her Coriolanus instated a small set of rules. Always use your manners, never stray from my side at public events, and never dress too provocatively. Simple things like that. He wasn't outrageous with his rules, he was a reasonable man. For the most part.

He spreads his legs and holds out his hands and Soarynn gives him a questioning look before hesitantly placing her hands in his. Rarely do they ever show each other affection, even in public. The first time he'd ever kissed her, ever held her hand was the day they got married.

His fingers wrap around him and he tugs her forward, right between his thighs as he looks up at her. When Soarynn isn't wearing makeup you can see all the freckles dotting her face and goodness knows she has a lot. She looks pretty right now. Adorable would be a better term for it since she looks so confused, like a lost puppy.

"I've been thinking," he starts, his right hand dropping her left hand so he can grab her bare thigh, "we never did anything on our wedding night." Soarynn swallows nervously, "Well you said you weren't interested in me, and the-"

"I know what I said Soarynn," he cuts her off. He doesn't need sass. He needs to know how tight that cunt is when it's wrapped around his cock. "I'd like to change the dynamic of our relationship tonight," he continues, his hand sliding up further and further until it's under her nightgown. He doesn't miss how her breath hitches but he pays it no mind. "We need to start a family after all," he says, slightly teasing her.

He's hoping to ease some tension and it works because her shoulders slightly relax and she nods, "Okay," she whispers, "whatever you want."

That's what he likes about Soarynn. She listens.

His hand palms her ass and he tugs her onto his lap, his lips crashing into hers. She lets out a squeak before giving in to the kiss, resting her hands on his shoulders as their lips move against one another. Coriolanus lets out a satisfied groan because when was the last time he kissed her like this? Has he ever kissed her like this? As far as he can remember it's been pecks and nothing more. Not even a longing glance.

Until now.

His hand remains on her ass, squeezing the flesh while the other grabs her waist, pulling her further against him. She lets out a small moan when he bites her bottom lip and it does nothing to help the growing bulge in his pants.

"Have you ever been with another man before?" He asks between kisses. Because he wants to hear it from her, not her father who was so eager to give his daughter away in order to secure his spot in society.

Soarynn whimpers when he squeezes her waist, "No," she whispers, "I was saving myself for my husband." He grins at her answer and basks in the fact that he will be the one to take her virginity.

She already belongs to him so this is really the cherry on top.

Their kisses grow more and more desperate and his other hand is slipping under her nightgown and grabbing her breast. Soarynn gasps when he pinches her nipple, her back involuntarily arching from the pleasure. "Please," she says, her hands carding through his hair.

He tugs at her bottom lip with his teeth, "Please what?" Soarynn rolls her hips to try and gain some friction, "Please make me yours Coriolanus."

It's like she knows how to rile him up. He grabs her hips and stands up, chuckling when she wraps her legs around his waist, her hands around his neck. He only needs to be on his feet for a moment before he turns around and tosses her onto the bed.

Soarynn squeals and bounces on the duvet cover, looking like a little vixen when she stares up at him. Coriolanus smirks and begins unbuttoning his shirt, enjoying how she watches his every move and how she bites her lip when he bares his chest to her.

Coriolanus might be a busy man but he's never too busy to work out. He runs a tight ship with his body and his chiseled figure is proof of that. He supposes she's caught a glance of him shirtless now and then, but she's never acted on it. Always waiting for him to initiate anything with her.

His good girl.

"Like what you see?" He quips, tilting his head to the side. Soarynn nods and her pinks turn a light shade of pink, "Yes, very much so." He looks her up and down, her soft legs crossed over one another, her chest rapidly rising and falling. "Take it off." It takes her a moment to realize he's talking about her nightgown, but she complies with shaky hands. He has to hold back a groan when he finally sees her naked. Well, almost naked. She's wearing a pair of lace panties, baby blue. Those will soon join her nightgown.

Coriolanus takes off his pants next, enjoying how big Soarynn's eyes get when she sees the imprint of his cock straining against his boxers. He beckons her to the edge of the bed with two fingers and he only grows harder when she crawls towards him on her hands and knees, stopping at the edge of the bed. "It's high time I teach you how to please your husband," he tells her, cupping her jaw in his hand.

Soarynn bats her eyelashes up at him, "Yes sir."

He doesn't hold back this groan, in fact, he squeezes her small little face, squeezes it to the point where she whimpers from the pain before he lets go and pulls down his boxers. "I'll be nice this time," he says, grabbing his cock, "but next time you'll be on your knees." Soarynn swallows as she takes a good look at his cock, the tip red and the length long, she licks her lips before looking back up at him, her hands in her lap, waiting for him.

He presses his thumb against her lips until she parts them and lets him slip his finger in. She wraps her lips around it, licking it, sucking it all while maintaining eye contact with him. His little vixen.

He pulls his thumb out, hooking it on her bottom lip and prying her mouth open enough to take the girth of his cock. Slowly but surely he pushes his cock into her mouth, watching as she furrows her brow and tries to take it all. She lets out a gag when he hits the back of her throat, unable to take anymore. She's taken a majority of it and her mouth feels heavenly.

He can only imagine what her cunt feels like.

Coriolanus grabs a fistful of her hair and begins to slowly thrust in and out of her mouth, listening to all the sweet sounds Soarynn makes. She whimpers a few times while trying to keep up, to please him. Her tongue grazes the underside of his shaft and he swears, gripping her hair even tighter as he increases the pace. She looks perfect like this, taking his cock. Tears begin to form in her eyes when he really starts to abuse her throat, his hips rutting into her.

There's some drool hanging down from her chin but no matter how messy she appears she never breaks eye contact with him. Coriolanus smirks, "Look at you, already doing your job so well." Her fingers grip the sheets and he takes a second to admire her body. Her breasts are perfect, they're perky and tan like the rest of her. Her waist is small and her hips slightly widen out, giving her a nice figure even as she's sitting down.

Coriolanus can feel himself getting closer and closer and he grits his teeth, "Let's see how well you can do angel."

It takes him a few more thrusts before he's spilling down her throat, his cock fully pressed into her tiny mouth. Soarynn lets out a gag but he doesn't move and she takes it, her eyes squeeze shut as she swallows his cum. Only when he's fully finished does he pull out, letting her finally breathe. Soarynn coughs, more spit coming out of her mouth and she wipes it off with the back of her hand before looking back up at him, "Was...was that good?" She asks with a bit of a raspy voice.

Coriolanus nods, "It was. Now lie down on your back." Soarynn looks more nervous than she has the entire night as she listens to his order and lies down. He hopes she's smart enough to know he's fucking her right away, a tight cunt like hers doesn't need to be fingered.

He wants to be the first thing ever inside of her.

It's easy to slide her panties off, Soarynn even lifts her hips up momentarily to help. Coriolanus pressed a kiss to her hip before he pries her legs apart, finally seeing that perfect little cunt of hers.

It's pink, it's small and it's so fucking wet.

"You were made for me weren't you?" He mumbles, blowing onto her clit and watching her twitch. "Yes," she breathes, "I belong to you."

She sure knows how to stroke his ego.

Coriolanus fully crawls over her small body, his frame dwarfing her in size. He begins to think of all the things he can do to her, all the positions he can put her in, what he can make her take.

He grabs his cock, still hard and ready, and rubs the tip up against her cunt, listening to Soarynn's moans. She tries to grind her hips up but he shoots her a stern look and she stops. Good, she needs to know how to listen and take it.

"My little fuckdoll," he drawls as he finally begins to push his cock in. She's so fucking tight it's nearly impossible for him to fit but he makes it work. Soarynn lets out a painful whine but he pays her no mind and continues pushing in.

He can't take his eyes off of it, off of her cunt and how it's wrapping around him. Like it was made for him.

Soarynn cries out when he finally thrusts all the way in, taking her virginity in one fluid motion. He looks down at her face to see it screwed with discomfort and possibly fear. "Look at you," he coos, his hand caressing her face, "my little dove is taking me so well." Soarynn gasps when he pushes his hips forward and a single tear falls from her face, "It hurts," she whispers, "I don't...I don't know if I can take it Coriolanus." His hand is wrapped around her throat in an instant and he squeezes it so hard he knows there'll be bruises in the morning, "You will take whatever I give you," he tells her, "morning, noon, and night, you live to serve me, please me. I don't give a fuck what you can't take darling, this is my cunt, not yours, mine."

Now she looks scared. She almost looks betrayed, wondering where her polite husband went but he doesn't care. Coriolanus looks back down at their connected bodies and slowly pulls out, feeling how tight her walls wrap around him before he slams back in. Soarynn claws at his arm but he pays her no mind and begins fucking into her.

Soarynn lets out a strangled moan when the tip of his cock presses against her sweet spot, again and again, abusing it. She feels so fucking good, so warm and tight. He looks down at her stomach and can see a small bulge forming every time he fucks into her, "Look at my little fuckdoll, look at how deep I'm fucking you." He pulls her up to look at her stomach and Soarynn whines, already in a dazed state. He drops her throat and lets her fall back onto the mattress, his hands grabbing her hips. He'll leave behind fingerprints but he doesn't care. He fucks her so hard, so deep. He's going to mold her cunt to fit his cock and his cock only.

"Fuck," she moans, her eyes rolling back when he lands a hard thrust. Coriolanus watches her face as he fucks her, how her tongue sticks out, how her eyes roll back, how fucking dumb with it she is already. "This is where you belong," he tells her, squeezing her hips, "stuck on my cock, bleeding on my cock. You belong to me Soarynn, you're my dumb little fuckdoll and you love it don't you?" Soarynn can barely breathe let alone answer but he doesn't care, he reaches down and pinches her clit hard pulling a scream from her lips, "YES! Yes, I belong to you Coriolanus," she sobs, trying to twist away from his grip.

But he's relentless and pounds into her, listening to the sounds she makes. The moans, the cries, the wetness between her thighs, the squelches. She's perfect for him. "You take it so well," he praises, digging his thumbs into her skin, "like you were made for cock." Soarynn gasps and pulls on the sheets, "Your cock," she moans.

Coriolanus grins, happy that his little fuckdoll is already learning this early on. "That's right angel, now who's cunt is this?" Soarynn whines when he presses his thumbs in harder, "Yours, " she says, "it's yours, belongs to you, I belong to you."

That's his girl.

He leans down and hovers right over her face, "Open your mouth," he orders, watching her struggle to comprehend such a simple order. "Open your mouth before I shove my cock down it and keep it there," he sneers, watching her mouth fall open. He spits into it, pleased when she immediately swallows without him telling her to do so. "Good girl," he praises. Her cunt tightens at the words and he raises his eyebrows, "Little slut gets off on praise? You like it when I call you my good girl? When I tell you how good you're taking it, how tight your little cunt is for me?"

Tears are freely falling down her face. Her face already dirty with spit, cum, and old tears. "Yes," she croaks, arching her back when his hand goes back down to her clit. "Then you'll keep being my good girl hmm? My little fuckdoll will get whatever she wants as long as she behaves." Soarynn whimpers and looks into his piercing blue eyes, "I'll do whatever you want," she promises, "you can do whatever you want with me."

How did he get so lucky?

He kisses her, tasting his own cum mixed with her saliva. They both moan into the kiss and her hands grab his biceps, her nails digging into the skin and he knows she's getting close. "Please," she whines, "please, please, please." He laughs because she doesn't even know what she's asking for, his sweet little fuckdoll. "Already asking for permission hmm?" He teases, speeding up his thrusts and making them hard. Soarynn nods and her teeth graze his bottom lip, "Yes sir." He'll be nice this time, let her cum right away.

She doesn't know she won't always get to cum, that it won't always be about her and what she wants. Sometimes he'll fuck her quick and leave her cunt filled with his cum, dripping for more. And sometimes he'll fuck her till she cries, till she can't take anymore. But she will. She belongs to him, mind, body, and soul.

"Cum on my cock Soarynn, show me what you're good for," he grunts, wanting to feel how tight she can really get.

Soarynn almost looks scared when she cums. Her mouth is open in a silent scream and her eyes are filled with tears while her back bends off the bed. He likes her best like this he decides, right when she cums and he knows that he'll forever have her in his pocket.

He cums soon after, painting her walls and she's babbling all sorts of things. So fucking dumb and full of cock she doesn't even know what to do anymore.

When he finally pulls out his cock is covered in cum and a small amount of blood. He looks down to see the white sheets stained with it and he proudly grins.

She belongs to him now. To the President.

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

[krummholz-go]

Bildad the Shuhite, midwife/cobbler/improv artist

Brought over from a post I made on reddit

On a recent rewatch, I realized what a beautiful example of the "Yes, and…" improv technique the entire Bildad "childbirth" scene was. In improv, the process of saying yes, and to your scene partners (as opposed to no, but) is critical for showing and building trust, cooperation, and ultimately creativity. It shows your scene partners that they can rely on you and that you feel you can rely on them. You relinquish a sense of personal control but gain the possibility of creating something larger than yourself.

It struck me that Crowley and Aziraphale are able to do this complicated and difficult trust exercise for extremely high stakes so early in their relationship. For the first time they are "a group of the two of us," accomplishing something together that they could not have accomplished on their own.

SCENE BREAKDOWN:

Crowley begins the scene by introducing himself: “Remember me? Bildad the Shuhite?” Gabriel gives a soft no to this in an attempt to shut things down, immediately challenging Aziraphale on who he is. Aziraphale gives his first yes to Crowley in the scene by reaffirming the statement, though it is a relatively soft yes: "He says he's Bildad the Shuhite?" Crowley then doubles down on the yes with repetition: "And so I am! Bildad the Shuhite! Need any shoes?"

Michael interjects here with a second soft no, correcting Crowley's statement about shoes by stating, "Shuhite means 'from the land of Shua.'" Crowley sticks to the rules of improv by giving another yes to Michael: "Indeed! It does!" before adding his and: "Where, as it happens, I am a leading shoemaker."

Then Aziraphale picks it up with a literal "Yes," and builds on the scene by adding an and: "Well, it would be really useful if you were an expert on human births?"

Crowley is seen physically shaking his head "no" at this statement, indicating internal reluctance to go in this direction, yet he still plays along, agreeing with Aziraphale's direction by saying "Then… this is your lucky day! Shoemaking and obstetrics, those have always been the twin passions of Bildad the Shuhite." I especially love this line because he doesn't abandon the previous commitment he made to shoemaking - he literally adds obstetrics as an and to the character he's developing. During this statement we see Aziraphale physically bolstering Crowley's yes by softly clapping his hands with excitement over this wonderful "news."

Then Crowley extends a crap-ton of trust to Aziraphale by saying "What seems to be the trouble?" He has just committed himself to the part of obstetrician without knowing where it is going but is ready to press forward anyway under Aziraphale's direction.

Aziraphale now brings a new character into the scene by introducing Sitis who "has just learned she is to have lots more children." Crowley immediately says yes to this, rubbing his hands together and saying, "Oh, well, let's get started!" He prompts Aziraphale with an and to help the scene by saying "and I'm sure these angelic entities have seen it all before."

Aziraphale gives a literal "yes" to this statement from Crowley, then builds on it with an and to give Crowley more critical context by explaining that Gabriel has "personally witnessed childbirth in the garden of Eden." This gives Crowley what he needs to work with to be successful in the next part of the scene.

At this point there is a lovely little detail where Crowley has to whisper into Sitis's ear, "do exactly what I say - trust me." This is such an incredible counterpoint to what happens naturally with Aziraphale and Crowley - unlike the two of them, who instinctively work together and trust one another, Sitis needs to be instructed on the rules of this game.

Now there is a sophisticated bit of silent cooperation that happens when Crowley tells Sitis to put her hands into Job's robe. As the "obstetrician" he must be the one to direct Sitis where to put her hands, but he doesn't actually know where the ox ribs are. So he surreptitiously looks to Aziraphale who gives him a hand signal to help him. Aziraphale silently directing Crowley who turns that into verbal direction for Sitis is a beautiful and seamless trust exercise in the scene.

To complete the miraculous "birth," Aziraphale miracles the children back from their salamander states and then gives a final yes to the scene in his role as a witness to the births by applauding as if he had nothing to do with it.

Michael interjects a no, but here for the first time in a while, saying "But... they're not babies." Respecting the rules of improv, Crowley agrees with her saying "Certainly not! Was Eve a baby?"

(Interestingly, Gabriel has also become caught up in the spirit of yes, and by this point. He already agreed with / supported the sudden appearance of the ox ribs as being "part of the process" and now he agrees with Crowley that children "can arrive in any size." I feel like this is a tiny foreshadowing of Gabriel's eventual ability to be more flexible in his thinking than angels like Michael, culminating in his relationship with Beelzebub.)

Now we reach the point where the scene almost falls apart. Job, who has not understood this high-stakes game, says "Ennon, my boy!" and Crowley responds with the first no we've heard from him: "No, no, no - not Ennon, Job, Ennon's gone!" This no is shocking when contrasted with the rest of the scene and we have a sense for the first time that the whole thing could fail.

Aziraphale immediately steps in to try to turn things back around by providing a yes to Crowley's declaration that Ennon is gone: "This is your new son!" Job, stubborn and confused, tries to say no, but again, starting a sentence with "But it is…" But Sitis, who now understands the rules of the game, cuts him off with a no phrased as a yes in support of Aziraphale as she finishes his sentence for him in a different way: "…it's a miracle that our new son should look so much like our old son."

Job struggles once more, trying to deny what Sitis is saying but eventually understands the rules. This culminates with him literally changing from no to yes in the same sentence: "No, you're right - it's not Ennon!" before Ennon undermines the scene in the most disastrous way possible through a "yes" that is actually a no to what Aziraphale, Job, and Sitis have said: "Yes, it bloody is!"

At this point we are teetering on the knife's edge as to whether the scene will succeed. It concludes with the highest of high stakes when Gabriel, sensing that things are not as they should be, asks Aziraphale if they are Job's new children. Aziraphale tries to equivocate by saying something that is neither yes nor no: "they certainly seem to be." This is not good enough, however, and he must commit one way or the other. He ends the scene successfully under Crowley's watchful and expecting eyes with a yes: "They are... his new children." Crowley applauds the scene... and his scene partner, Aziraphale.

This success comes at a high cost for Aziraphale, though. In good improv the individual is subsumed into the larger whole, but here Aziraphale feels like he has literally given up his individual soul for the greater good. What he has gained, however, is a foundational piece of trust, reliability, and understanding in his lifelong partnership with Crowley.

OTHER THOUGHTS:

There is a lovely echo of this improv approach when Muriel first introduces herself to Aziraphale as a police officer but struggles because she doesn't have enough context. Aziraphale supports her hugely throughout the scene, creating more foundational trust in the process that I believe begins to immediately pull Muriel away from heaven and towards the worldly sphere that Aziraphale and Crowley inhabit together. That could be an entire breakdown on its own!

Hope you enjoyed this! :)

[theerurishipper]

Ladynoir and (In)Equality

For me personally, the most important thing in any relationship is that both partners are equals in that dynamic. I think that's a reasonable expectation to have. And Ladynoir did fulfill that requirement for me in the first 3 seasons. Even though Ladybug did most of the leadership stuff by making the plans and directing Chat Noir on what to do, it was understood that this was a mutual agreement. They both understood what they were good at, and their dynamic evolved accordingly. Chat Noir was content to follow her lead and Ladybug was content to make the plans and direct Chat Noir.

Season 2 saw the introduction of the inequality that shattered this balanced dynamic between the two, and quite frankly the later seasons only made it worse. It started in Syren, as we all know, where Chat Noir first expressed his displeasure at being left out of the loop when Ladybug was privy to important information that was being kept from him. Of course, Master Fu arrived to barely smooth things over before the issue was dropped for the season and never brought up again. Their dynamic remained as it was, but the cracks began to form here.

The introduction of Ladybug being the Guardian in Season 4 changed this established dynamic, obviously, and Ladybug began to give the Miraculous out to other holders. Keeping Chat Noir out of the loop began to become her MO, and she effectively replaced him with Rena Furtive in all but name. The central conflict of the season was the cracks forming in their relationship because of her new responsibilities and her secret keeping. And the resolution to this, as stated in Kuro Neko and Risk, is that even if he's no longer her partner, she still likes him best.

Now, the previous Ladynoir dynamic was one of equality, where they knew their roles and acted upon them. They were equals, and Ladybug's leadership in their pair was an informal one, one that was mutually agreed upon by them. The introduction of the Guardian role for Ladybug changes this from a mutually agreed upon dynamic to one where Ladybug is, for all intents and purposes, his boss. She is officially his leader, in the sense that if she so wished, he would be obliged to hand his Miraculous over to her. In the sense that she would be well within her rights to replace him if she so desired (which she does do). She is his superior, and he is no more important than the other temporary holders, with the sole exception that he holds his Miraculous permanently (which has now been exacerbated by the fact that all of them are permanent holders now).

Chat Noir received a demotion for no fault of his own, which he did not want, and someone else was promoted to replace him in the position he once occupied. Rena Furtive is Ladybug's special partner. Chat Noir is not Rena Furtive's equal, and he is definitely not Ladybug's equal.

This is not about a woman making more money than a man. She isn't just more successful than him, and this isn't about him being insecure about her being better than him. The problem is that Ladybug is Chat Noir's direct superior, and she has power over him. She has the power to call him when she needs him, and if not him, she'll get someone else. She has the resources to figure out his identity without him being none the wiser. She has the power to replace him if she wishes. Far be it from him to allow her to lead of his own accord, now he is obliged to follow her orders. She has the power to control what he knows and how he acts, and she has the power to keep vital information from him.

None of this is inherently "bad." But when you look at it from the context of them being on a path to a romantic relationship with each other, that's where the problems begin. Two people in a relationship should not have a dynamic where one has so much power over the other. Ladybug has so much power that she is able to slide a third teammate into their partnership and slowly push him away from his role at her side. She, quite unfortunately, can and has abused his trust because she had the resources to do so. The only opportunity he had in Season 4 to make his own choices that were not dictated by Ladybug's rules was when he quit. The final takeaway from this Ladynoir conflict is that Chat Noir is her favorite subordinate now (because Rena Furtive has replaced him), and just because they aren't equals anymore doesn't mean she doesn't want him around.

And, no, this was not corrected in Season 5. Season 5 was a return to their original dynamic, not because Ladybug and Chat Noir worked around this new shift in their relationship to find a way to overcome this new power imbalance. It's because Ladybug's power was forcibly taken away from her by a third party, and the only reason Chat Noir is her special partner again is because there is no one else left. But the end of Season 5 sees everyone come back, as permanent holders no less, and Chat Noir is once again demoted to his role as "just another holder like any other."

With the establishment of the Ladybug and the Black Cat Miraculous as two halves of a duo, equals in power, you'd expect them to be, well, equals. Me being upset about the inequality of these characters isn't with regards to screentime, or my wish for Adrien to be the main character or anything. My wish is for Adrien to be a character of his own. My wish is for the show to stop promoting such unhealthy dynamics as cute and fine. If they had simply made Adrien's role out to be the love interest, if they had just literally made him Ken who is content with just being Barbie's trophy boyfriend from the very beginning, if that was all his role has ever been and was meant to be from the start, I wouldn't be complaining so much. But the one they reduced into the role of Marinette's prize, the one over whom she has so much power, is the abuse victim whose arc is about self-actualization. And it paints a very disturbing picture. That far be it from Chat Noir to expect any kind of equal treatment from Ladybug, he's going to have put aside any discomforts or issues he has with their relationship to settle for being her favorite by virtue of nostalgia.

And it's just... bad, on a narrative level. Despite its ambitious introduction of so many plot points, the focus of this show has always been its romance. The main narrative goal of the series is for Ladybug and Chat Noir to get together. So, when your narrative hinges on these two characters getting together, and you decide to introduce such a power dynamic into the mix, saying "I still like you," isn't the fix that it's cracked up to be. If they are supposed to be the relationship around which the show is built, Chat Noir should be Ladybug's special partner, he should be her equal and not just another holder whom she likes better than everyone else. Ladynoir's relationship is directly tied to their partnership, and their dynamic as partners is the basis for any future romantic relationship between them. Introducing such an inequality between them in their partnership does affect their ability to be able to get together, and not in a good way.

This isn't a bad plot point. I like Ladybug being the Guardian, I like that they didn't just brush off the fact that there would be some changes in their dynamic. What I dislike is the way it was resolved, with Ladybug essentially saying that they would never be equals but she still likes him. A power imbalance does not a healthy relationship make. Ladynoir do not have a relationship where they are both completely aware of everything they should know. Chat Noir really cannot do anything in their dynamic, because Ladybug has all the control over everything. It's Ladybug controlling this information and Chat Noir accepting that he'll never be treated the way he wants to be treated, because he's been conditioned to believe his feelings don't matter. And she never did end up correcting this, and the conflict as it is ended with him forgiving her for everything even though she never apologized, and accepting that this is how it's going to be.

And it's not good. This isn't the Ladynoir I signed up for, honestly. I signed up for the Ladybug who accepted Chat Noir unconditionally and the Chat Noir who supported Ladybug through everything. I did not sign up for Ladybug trying to pull a Gabe and Chat Noir only being her emotional support who suppresses his own needs for her. The Ladynoir conflict and its less than satisfying resolution caused irreparable damage to the Ladynoir dynamic (it's irreparable because the writers don't see a problem with it and so they'll never fix it), and this has only continued into Season 5, which said "why fix it when I can make it worse."

[yams-here]

Third version of gen 9 where everything is tilted a little more to the side (Pokémon Verdant or something like that)

Arven

In this universe, both of his parents are professors, and are constantly arguing about the direction of their research (if they go for past pokemon or future pokémon). They've gotten pretty distracted by this debate, to the point where Arven has been doing literally whatever for a few years and they have yet to notice. (He's more annoyed by his parents than hateful if anything.) He avoids that high stress enviroment as much as possible but it still get to him sometimes so he smokes to take the edge off. He does not know how to smoke. Since Mabosstiff is good and healthy he doesn't really have any objectives that he's putting it all in, but he has heard about the Herba mistica, and deep down he would like to make something exceptional of himself someday, so he can finally get out of the shadow of his parents. He still likes small and cute things.

Juliana

Lived a completely sheltered life from pokémon battling and such things up until this day. All she knew about pokémon are the ones she'd had to deal with as pests and her mom's skwovet. So thanks to that she's usually getting in trouble by just going up to random wild pokémon and asking if she can capture them. Her degree of success is way too high, which includes a Cyclizar that she caught when she heard she could use them to go to places more easely. She's way too nice for her own good, but thanks to that more sheltered life she's more emotionally intelligent that her average peer. small and cute

Penny

Just transferred to the academy from Galar, where she had a terrible experience with being bullied, so she's determined to not let it happen again. In a certain way, it lead to her acting meaner than she usually intends to. She says it's so people don't see her as a weak target, but sometimes she comes off as the bully and she very often regrets it. Yes she still needs glasses, Yes she's still nerd trash. Has a very reluctant crush on "La princesa" of Lima academy, and tries to act like a bitch to ward her (and the feelings) off (it doesn't work)

Nemona

Her parents, in this version, focus on her instead of her sister. So thanks to that she's expected to be the perfect student (and by proxy, heir) even if putting her emotions and social life in jeopardy. This nemona is a lot better at reading people, but a LOT more restrained in her emotions. That includes her bad arm, that she hides behind herself. Kind of disliked by most of the student body, who all derogatorily call her "La princesa", for being a teacher's pet, But secretly she hates that just as much as them. Had a tiny (not) gay panic after a certain delinquent was a bitch to her, which she is scrambling to not let fester because she knows her parents would be MAD

[lunamond]

Rhaenyra‘s sons‘ illegitamcy is actually such a fascinating topic to discuss. Because on one side, yes, she should be allowed to have children with the partner of her chosing. But on the other side, the way she handles the situation, she manages to upset almost every cultural norm surrounding this issue, further alienating potential allies.

According to the social and cultural norms of their world, Rhaenyra and her sons are being valued as lesser for the circumstances of their birth. This a result of westerosi male primogeniture, which has to police woman sexuality in order to ensure that wealth and power get passed through the male family line.

Bastards born from the affairs of male lords are tolerated because they do not endanger the system of power, while male bastards especially are still marginalised (as seen with Jon) the father isn‘t subjected to any form of social scorn.

On the flip side, a noblewoman fathering a bastard is a direct threat to the system of male primogeniture. A woman will always know her biological children by the simple fact that she gave birth to them.

Men, however, don’t have this certainty. To ensure that their heirs are their own biological offspring they need complete insurence that their wives are soley sexually active with them, hence the policing of female sexuality and the obsession with female virginity.

This tactic is obviously not foolproof. A clever wife might still manage to have a secret affair and pass off another man‘s child as her husband's. This anxiety and continued incertainty is reflected in the social censure woman receive for acting as sexual beings and the severe social and legal punishment a wife who has been judged as unfaithful can face.

What makes Rhaenyra‘s position unique, however, is the fact that she is Viserys‘ heir.

So if the crown is to pass down from Viserys to Rheanyra and through her to her own heirs, why does Jace‘s legitamacy even factor into all this? Some people in the fandom make that argument: If Rheanyra inherits in her own right, why does it matter who fathers her children?

The problem with this is that even the Lords can‘t declare their bastard heir without expressed permission from the king. So, firstly Rhaenyra would need to publicly aknowledge her sons as ilegitamte for Viserys to legitamise them.

Secondly, even if inheritance in the male linegage is important, marriages in Westeros are still utilised to forge political and economical ties. Any Lord, who wants to make their bastard heir instead of the children born by his legal wife, will at best destroy any goodwill given by her family or at worst start a generations long feud.

Rhaenyra‘s position isn't as simple as a mere reversal of the genders. She can't just take the role of the Lord, she is still a woman and society will continue to treat her as such. Laenor is still bringing his own inheritance of Driftmark to ther union, separate from any claims Rhaenyra holds.

While she is lucky enough not to lose the Velaryons as her allies, it does lead to tensions surrounding the succession of Driftmark.

Another argument then is, if Laenor and Corlys aknowledge Jace, Luce and Joffery as Velaryon their blood shouldn‘t matter.

However, that is also not how westerosi society works. Because to them, blood does matter. Laenor and Corlys can claim them as Velaryon as much as they want. But as Varys puts it: „Power resides where men believe it to reside“, and as long as the westerosi people believe that blood lines are vital to the right to rule, the boys‘ right to Driftmark will continue to be questioned. Family names and blood lines are super important (and not just socially, considering how many magic blood lines exist in this world).

And to me it seems pretty clear that Corlys is aware of this fact as well, because he never publicly anounces that their blood doesn‘t matter, in fact he claims them to be Velaryon as Laenor‘s sons.

And this is ultimately the issue at heart of all the vitrol thrown at Rhaenyra. The reason she faces so much push back isn’t just because she had bastards but specifcally because she tries to pass them off as legitemate. With this she triggers the deeply ingrained social anxiety about women duping their husband and disrupting the blood line with their own kuckucks child.

It doesn‘t truely matter that her position is slightly different, because for one Westeros is deeply misogynistic. Even as a female heir she is still subject to the misogynistic standards put on women, because no matter her personal circumstances, their society is still built to cater to male power.

But even more damming is the fact that she ends up proving all these fears true, because she does take Driftmark away from a true Velaryon heir and gives it to Luce.

I think it is really fascinating (in a very concerning way), how some fans are so ready to take these societal rules as hard facts. Instead of thinking how they might reflect on inherently flawed systems of power.

As viewers we should be capable to recognize that these cultural norms are wrong. Jace, Luce and Joffery might be bastards but this doesn't devalue them as human beings. Nor does it impact their capabilites as future rulers. Nor does Rhaenyra‘s gender impact her‘s. There is nothing that make a trueborn man more worthy of ruling than a bastard or a woman.

But important to remember is also that Rhaenyra isn‘t going to make a better ruler soley on the virtue of being the firstborn or chosen by Viserys. Nor are her sons going to make better heirs because they are her children.