#but she doesn't want to exert control over him

[quesadilla-day]

follow-up to ✨this✨

[twilightcitysky]

Everything Is Meant (long S2 analysis, part 3)

Part one

Part two

There's SO MUCH excellent meta out there right now, and I'm going to try not to reinvent the wheel too much, but I want to keep going with tying the episodes/ elements up together because on first watch it wasn't entirely clear how everything fit. I also strongly recommend a rewatch, no matter what you felt about the ending... if you need to stop it 10 minutes early, do that, but you pick up so much more the second time around.

So: Maggie and Nina. I spent most of my first watch wondering why we were bothering with them, honestly. Later in the season Nina, and then Maggie and Nina, gave Crowley some insightful advice, but their actual relationship didn't progress despite all the meddling, and the amount of emotional investment BOTH Aziraphale and Crowley had in making them get together was frankly strange.

I started thinking in terms of mirror couples, since that was such a big deal in S1 and that's clearly what they were set up to be, but I made the mistake that all of us made on first watch: that Nina was Crowley and Maggie was Aziraphale. It still wasn't really coming together.

Then I put the psych hat back on and started to think about displacement. Displacement is a defense mechanism, and it consists of satisfying an impulse (usually an unconscious one) with a substitute object. At the beginning of the season, Aziraphale and Crowley aren't really in a good place, and I think on some level they know that. Aziraphale is trying to SHOW Crowley that he wants to take the next step through all the casual touches and phone calls and inviting him in, and feeling frustrated because Crowley doesn't seem to be taking the bait. (I absolutely think that Aziraphale tried to get Crowley to stay with him at the bookshop instead of living in his CAR, and Crowley said no. That's a whole other meta.) Meanwhile, Crowley, I think, is waiting for a Grand Gesture. Where did he go, as soon as Aziraphale brought up trying to get two humans to fall in love? Romantic tropes. Getting caught in the rain under an awning. A dramatic kiss that opens someone's eyes. That's the sort of thing he's always done, right? Big rescues, impassioned pleas on the street, fancy dinners, "give you a lift anywhere you want to go". He's defensive and guarded and unlikely to let someone in unless he's CERTAIN he won't be rejected, and Aziraphale's approaches are just too... quiet. No one's fault, they just don't speak the same language.

Then, they're handed the opportunity to make two humans fall in love, and they're both All In immediately. Look at Crowley's face when he summons the rainstorm. This is HUGE for him. Why? Because of displacement. Look at Aziraphale arranging the ball and being borderline deranged about it. They're both desperate to demonstrate what they think it takes for two people to move past their misunderstandings and fall in love. They can't do it for each other because the stakes are too high, and if either of them shows their cards unequivocally the vulnerability feels life-shattering. They're codependent and terrified of rejection and also, importantly, have no idea what they're doing when it comes to love. "Saw it in a film", Crowley says. Aziraphale's read about it in books. But they have zero practical experience.

Instead of learning to communicate, they try to say what they want to say through the medium of Maggie and Nina, up to and including the questionable moral decision to exert control over people's actions and thoughts during the ball. If I can just make this come out right, they both think, then things between us will be alright too. It HAS to come out right. They're attempting to gain some control over their own lives, over something that feels so overwhelming and shattering they can't look directly at it.

It doesn't come out right. Nina's relationship falls apart, but that doesn't mean she's in love with Maggie. While Crowley's stress-cleaning the bookshop to the music that played when Aziraphale got his books back in 1941 (just fuck me up David Arnold), they come in and tell him so. "I don't understand", says Crowley. Because it should have worked. Why didn't it work?

They tell him, of course. "You need to talk to each other. Say what you're really thinking." But here's the thing about communication: you have to learn it. You need to get the hang of expressing your feelings without blaming your partner, and separating intent from impact, and staying away from getting defensive and lashing out. No one has ever taught Aziraphale and Crowley how to do this. It's like Maggie and Nina put Crowley in front of a loom and asked him to recreate the Bayeux Tapestry. He doesn't have the skills; he's always going to get it wrong, even if he tries his hardest.

And he does try. But that's where Maggie and Nina the mirror couple, rather than Maggie and Nina the displacement relationship or Maggie and Nina the Greek chorus, come in. Aziraphale, as Nina, has just ended an incredibly toxic, invasive relationship with Heaven. A relationship that invaded every facet of his life, isolated him, and prevented him from being close to anyone else. "Rebound mess," Nina says. Aziraphale is a rebound mess. He's transferred the responsibility for his emotional wellness to Crowley. Crowley is the person he calls when he's in trouble, or (and this is key) when he wants to report a clever/ good thing he's done, or when he's bored. (At no point did Crowley reference Aziraphale calling him for a solicitous reason-- another problem.) Crowley is meant to take care of him. He forgets, I think, that Crowley is a person with his own wants and needs, just like Maggie and Nina are people with their own wants and needs who don't appreciate being messed with. (I think things would have been much different had Aziraphale BEEN THERE for Maggie and Nina's talk with Crowley, but he wasn't.)

And Maggie-as-Crowley? Lonely. Behind on rent, at risk of being evicted (it's important to note that Aziraphale saves Maggie from losing her record shop, as he couldn't save Crowley from losing his flat). Pining. Awkward. Revolving around Nina like a planet, to the extent that we don't get much of an impression of her otherwise. They realize, there at the end, that they both need to round themselves out before jumping into a relationship. Aziraphale and Crowley need that too. They need to take time apart and learn to be healthy on their own. Unfortunately they don't have the skills to get to that conclusion in a healthy way, so it all explodes in their faces and everything falls apart.

Aziraphale tries to teach Nina and Maggie to dance as a substitute for communication. Nina and Maggie try to teach Crowley communication as a substitute for the dance they've been doing around each other. That's the reason they're a part of the plot: they exist to demonstrate the way Aziraphale and Crowley might have succeeded in forging a better dynamic. Sadly, the boys' dance is too practiced and they got sucked right back into it.

It's okay, I think, that Nina and Maggie's storyline never really went anywhere. It wasn't supposed to. It's an allegory, not something that needs to stand alone.

[diejager]

Hey! I'm new here but what I've seen of your blog so far I've consumed appreciatively.

Could I please get an Alejandro Vargas x f!reader anything nsfw with a breeding schmink?? I know that man wants a soccer team.

Perhaps he'd seen the reader take care of a kid/s in his family and she's really good with them, she's always wanted her own so when something clicks with Alejandro, man is on a mission that doesn't take very much convincing on the readers part.

Thank you 🤍

Parenthood

Pairing: Alejandro Vargas x fem!reader

Cw: breeding kink, pregnancy, soft sex, creampie, service dom!Alejandro, p in v, fingering, cunnilingus, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 1.4k (A/N): I’m gonna be honest with you, I don’t really like it and it feels a bit rushed and just bad.

His heart nearly stopped when he turned around, the sight making him choke down a breath. He’d forgotten for a second that he was in public, gracing the cleaned streets of Las Almas, the cartel driven away by the joint force of Task Force 141 and Los Vaqueros. Breath stolen away in a whisper of love and admiration, he watched you play with the children, small and precious, sitting on your haunches with the kids surrounding you in a crowd of loud chatting and adorable giggles. His knees felt weak when he caught your eyes, glancing his way with a smile gracing your lips, the warm and motherly gleam in your beautiful eyes and the way you held the small fingers of a child between your soft fingers.

“Oh, mi amor,” he sighed, feeling his cheeks flush brightly, chest filling up with warmth, a comforting and burning heat that pulsed through his body like a plague. 

He remembered that he wore the clothes of a civvy, he was but a man and a husband outside of the uniform, outside of the base, and outside of the battlefield. He moved slowly when you beckoned him towards you, hand leaving the child to wave him over, fingers curling and smile so enticing to kiss. He bowed to your whim, crouching beside you to greet the kids, smiling warmly and coaxing them forward with the promise of a piggyback ride. It made him wonder how energetic and joyous his house would be with children running around the place.

You fell back on the bed, lips swollen and cheeks flushed, your hair was a mess and your clothes ruffled, riding over your abdomen, the edge of your lacy bra peeking under your shirt. Alejandro was quick to undress you, pulling your shirt over your head and your shorts down your legs, he unclipped your bra and pulled your panties to your ankles. He sat up, admiring your nakedness, the smooth curves of your hips and the sheen of sweat coating your skin. He shrugged his clothes off, lips wrapping around your nipples once his shirt was off, teeth nipping at your collar and neck before trailing down your stomach to kiss your slick folds.

He shuddered at the taste of your pussy, tongue lapping at your clit, rolling the tip over your sensitive button. He drank up your moans as he drank up your slick, lips latching to your nub, sucking while his hands moved up your thighs, gripping the apex of it and dipping into you. With two fingers, he slipped them between your lips, teasing you while he still had the self-control to. He had to hold you down, despite your squirming and mewls being addicting, he needed you to stay still for him to make you come before he snapped.

“God, Ale-” you knocked your head back when you felt him push a finger in, pumping in and out, and curling upwards. 

He groaned, eyes rolling back at the wet squelch of his finger - fingers, now that he added another one to stretch you out - and curling them against your spongy wall, in search of your sweet g-spot. His cock rubbed against the tightness of his boxers, being confined to his pants while he serviced you in a way that any husband should with his precious wife if he wanted her happy, rutting against the bed. 

He drove in, panting as if he ran a marathon, out of breath from the excitement and control he exerted on himself. He wanted you to come first, to feel you fall over the edge, to watch your back arch and toes curl before he fucked his child into you, to fill you with his cum and love. He shifted his hand, digits pounding upwards in fast and erratic motions, rigid as he pushed on, listening to your yelp turning into whimpers and mewls mixing together as your toes curled, fingers gripping the bed sheets. 

“Come for me, mi amor,” he mumbled against your clit, his voice rumbling down to your core. “C’mon.”

He felt you jerk, your thighs closing around his head and your walls clamping down on his fingers, pulsing wildly with every loud mewls and moans. He helped you ride out your climax, pumping slowly while you panted, keeping his fingers relaxed until you calmed down. He pressed his lips to your navel, right over your womb, moving up with his little pecks, cheeky and loving. He could spend his days worshipping you with his lips, his hands and his cock, but you pulled him towards your lips, mouth moving feverishly against his, chasing the taste of your cunt on his tongue. He groaned, tongue meeting yours in a dance, rolling over yours and slipping between your teeth. You could taste yourself on his tongue, the salty tang slipping onto your tongue. His eyes closed in the moments, lost in the softness and enrapture of your being, mind zoned into your hands wandering over his neck, short nails caressing down his chest, over the curves of his sculpted abdomen and to the waistband of his briefs. 

You pulled them down, slipping your fingers under the waistband and pushing them down his strong thighs and muscled ass, his hard and angry cock bobbing and slapping his happy trail. He kicked them off, as impatient as he was to undress you, throwing his boxers somewhere behind him. He grasped your hips, ready to lay you down on your back and kiss you away, but you pushed him back, forcing him to sit on his ass as you straddled him. He let out a soft moan, your wet and warm cunt grinding down on his leaky cock, his bulbous head nudging the hood of your clit. 

“Please, corazón.”

Hands planted on his shoulders and him supporting your weight by your hips, you sank, feeling his cock stretch you open. You shared a groan, Alejandro’s cock filling you inch by inch, swallowed by your pulsing walls. You moved slowly, hips bucking as you rode him, steadily taking him deeper with every roll, rocking down until he bottomed out, sitting flush on his lap, thighs wet and body sweaty. He kissed you reverently, holding you to his chest as you shifted, legs pushing you up and down, skin slapping together in echoing squelch, wet and filthy as the words he whispered in your ear. 

He voiced his wishes of wanting to become a father, of wanting to breed your fertile womb, of wanting to see your stomach swell with life. He’d drink the milk from your swollen tits, the sweet and warm dribble of milk that would leak from your overfilled breasts. He’d hold and caress your round stomach, watching it grow with the passing months and caring for your every whim. He promised you he’d make you a mother, to care for you during your pregnancy and to watch over your little bébé, holding them in his arms, kissing them with the gentle press of his lips, and letting them grab his finger. 

Alejandro promised you the world as he bucked upwards, fucking himself into you with a delirious mind and stuttering pace. You rocked down, thighs burning with exhaustion and cramping, working to ride up and down on his throbbing cock, the crossing veins rubbing against your back wall. Your cunt pulling him in, the knot in your core tightening with a strong pulse, coaxing him closer to his end. Alejandro looked as strained as you were, breathing heavily, chest puffing up with broken groans and skin gleaming with sweat. He chased his release, lips catching yours with an open-mouthed kiss, tongue swirling around yours, sharing warm breaths. 

“Alejandro-” you swore, “I love you- I- fuck… Te amo. Te amo, Ale.”

You felt his cock jump, a sudden and strong thrust, slamming his head to your cervix had you reeling, coil in your navel snapping. Moans rolled down your tongue, body shuddering strongly as your legs buckled under you, knees falling and depending on him to ride out your high. His name and I love yours slipped from you, egging Alejandro on with every confession, especially the ones in Spanish. It doesn’t take long for him to come, your release being the catalyst for his. Cum spurted from his slit, painting your walls with his potent load and filling your womb, hips stuttering until he stilled, sitting motionless on his lap.

You both gasped, breath laboured as you leaned into him, forehead touching one another. Your eyes searched his warm, brown ones, the swirl of love in them had you swooning for the man you married. You felt full and warm, loved and taken cared of, in Alejandro’s arms with your mouth locked, sharing a moment withouting needing to voice out your emotions. 

“Do you think it’ll take?” You mumbled, pressing your head under his chin.

He hummed, his throat rumbling from the low sound.

“We’ll try again if it doesn’t.”

Tag list: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973

[yallemagne]

I'm watching people trauma bond with Calypso from EPIC in real-time. Y'all. A character can be a woman and be a rapist at the same time. And her being a woman doesn't mean that ACTUALLY there's some trauma in her past that justifies her imprisoning men on her island and taking them to bed against their will, it means that she's a rapist that just happens to also be a woman.

I love how Calypso is depicted in EPIC, she's just dripping with a nastiness that is only matched by Penelope's entitled suitors. She's sugary sweet at the outset, but when Odysseus rather violently rejects her, she laughs at his rejection, saying he's adorable when he's angry and that he doesn't have any choice but to submit to her will as a god. And then she goes right back to the sweet lover in paradise ruse!!! It's sickening! She denies his autonomy because it gets in the way of the fantasy romance that she's forcing upon him.

So, I'm frustrated with people trying to paint it as though she's the victim in the situation, that what she's doing is somehow okay because she's a pretty woman and they feel bad for her. That's so patronizing.

I've seen people justify her behaviour by saying she's lonely. Tough shit get a hobby. Being starved for affection has never justified being an abuser.

I've seen people insist she truly cares about Odysseus because she tries to talk him down from suicide... but an abuser talking you down from taking drastic measures to escape their abuse isn't them showing genuine care, it's them not wanting the game to end, it's them exerting control over your very life. If anything, it's more disturbing because she is the one who drove him to be suicidal. So she's playing this game where she drives him to the precipice and then tries to lure him back down with "reminders" of "their love", those reminders actually being of the words of his dead loved ones that she's pilfered and warped as though they were her own.

The most ridiculous argument I've seen in defending Calypso's behaviour is saying that we can't use terms like "rapist" for her because "it was a different time" so "it's not certain whether or not what she did would be considered non-consensual for the time"... Like must I even point out that... that sleeping with someone against their will has always been and will always be rape? Anyway, her actions fit the ancient definition of rape to a t anyhow, so it's weird to try and weaponize "cultural differences" for the sake of having plausible deniability in Calypso's favour. Rape is also used to mean kidnapping, which is why we have pieces titled the Rape of Ganymede, the Rape of Persephone, etc..

Even if Jorge were to come out and say that, somehow, nothing sexual took place on Calypso's island in seven years, that despite her explicitly telling Odysseus that his "no" means nothing to her as a goddess she somehow never went so far as to sexually assault him... it doesn't make her abuse any less bad that she spared him that one trauma! Like holy shit dude.

Imagine if there was an adaptation that featured Zeus' rape of Io, and the audience responded to every literally dehumanizing action Zeus took against Io by saying "ooohh but he's lonely. i feel bad for him the most he's just a widdle lonely baby man. his wife is so meaaan."

[howdoesagrapewrites]

𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐉𝐚𝐰𝐬 𝐕 ✴️

Taglist: @faespace @baellabass @ejs398

Plot: Imagine being the legitimized bastard of Daemon Targaryen, and having a very devoted family.

Cw: incest/targcest, yandere/lovesick behavior, unhealthy relationships, platonic and romantic yanderes, not everyone is romantically involved with reader, yandere EVERYONE x reader, sexual content, no actual smut, mentions of noncon

>Alicent and her children had been guarding your sleep the whole night, the night of the king's passing

>Aemond saw his mother just observe you while displaying an unreadable expression, he prides himself with being able to decipher people and use it to his benefit, but this time, his mother seemed out of reach to him. If he had to guess, she was attempting to treat you like a pawn, trying to dehumanize you to gain control over the political situation, and she was failing

>For his part, his thoughts while observing you, were much tainted he was watching your chest rise with every breath, examining your boobs and how they would slightly change shape when you laid on your back, much rounder. He would love if his mother and sister left to grope and caress, even just over the cloth, even for just a minute. Just a minute to smell your skin, your natural scent now free of the perfumes you would wear to fit in court

>He would love to have a minute, but he wants a whole life, Aemond is sure not even growing old with you would leave him satisfied, he would look for you again

>He wondered what would you think of him, he has a plethora of fantasies depending on your reactions. The most obvious one, disgust. He would cage you his his arms, hold your wrists with one hand while using the other to rid you of the bothersome clothing, sucking and biting at your neck, then your niples. You resist, but he is able to bring you pleasure regardless, some of your screams turn into moans and by the time he's kissing below your navel and starting to use a finger to play with your slit, your pleas of "no" and "please do not" are almost automatic, you do want him to go down on you, but you continue to chant the words as if to preserve what's left of purity

>But that fantasy would soon get old, he wished to exert power over you, yet have you willingly submit

>If you could only look at him the same way that you used to while consoling him over his lack of a mount

>Helaena was there as well, Jahaera and Jahaerys had been brought by her, but taken to bed by the maids in no time

>Helaena sung intelligible songs while playing with the threads in-between her fingers, for the little audible parts, Aemond heard the songs speak of dragons, swords, fire and blood

>His mother had arranged for Aegon to usurp the throne, he would never say this out loud, he knows his brother is a usurper, but he encourages this, as he wants the strong bastards away from the line of succession as one can be. Better off dead, but that's too much to ask

>Everything was in place, except for the king. Aegon was missing, «of course Aegon was missing» he thought

>Otto wanted to send ser Criston to find him, but Alicent protested it would leave you alone. They went back and forth until Otto said they would entrust Daeron with your guard. Aemond rolled his eye.

>Helaena had left without him noticing, possibly to mother the twins and whatnot

>He was in his mother's chambers, Otto alongside her, discussing the future of the realm. «This is the real small council» he said to himself

>"I will find Aegon, mother" said Aemond

>"That is already taken care of, Ser Criston will not rest until-" Otto spoke

>"He doesn't know where Aegon is, I do"

>"Then speak at once, boy" Aemond grimaced at the words of his grandsire

>"I am not to speak, I am to search, this is matter that requires involvement" he paused "But I want something"

>"We shall send Ser Criston, you will join if he fails"

>"And waste all that time? He may be as well as dead halfway through ser Criston's crusade"

>"Name your prize" Otto replied, breathing defeat in every syllable

>"You will hear it after" Aemond saw Otto arch an eyebrow and open his mouth to speak "Do not worry, I have no interest on the crown, or land, or titles, I would have acted before had been that my goal" His mother urged him to speak, but he had to remain silent, he was sure she would understand

>Him and the royal guard were underdressed in rags to blend in, Aemond wore a cape to cover his silver mane

>He had to endure the obnoxious Cole knocking on every brothel door like he was a lost peasant

>He was very uncomfortable when he found the madam of that one place, staying stiff and shivering under his cold facade

>He thanked the seven you could not see him like that, weak

>Once they found the White Worm, she said the prince would be handed over a ridiculous sum that they bargained

>But before they could leave with Aegon, he remembered something. The White Worm weaves silk through far and wide in the realm. The White Worm who is the paramour of the prince of the city, the White Worm that could have been your mother

>Aemond would order extra vigilance on you that night, while Misarya was known to be a slimy, untrustworthy woman, she had never been known to betray Daemon, or to betray gold for that matter, and Daemon was not going to skimp on you

>He had to say he was anything but surprised when he learned of that idiotic scheme of his brother to leave the city. Aemond imagined he'd waste his small fortune on whores as soon as he arrived, feast with men who are just waiting for him to surrender his better judgement to a glass of wine, then steal whatever is left. He always thought Aegon would likely die with his pants on his knees, possible covered in vomit and other fluids, choking on a chicken bone, or something as meaningless as a cherry pit, his women would steal his gold and he'd die slowly, lonely, pathetically, he had to say the idea did not displeased him too much

>But then, he could only cash his prize if he retrieved him, in one piece no less

>Aegon had returned, being almost locked up in his chambers, and the death of Viserys continued a secret to the world until the preparations for Aegon's ascension were finished. By the third day, the corpse of his father started to stink, he had already been rotting in life, and death was not stopping that. He looked at the king, he found him graceless, he had nothing, he was an absent king and absent father, Aemond would do better if he had the chance

>A couple hours after Aegon's arrival, you had woken up, almost immediately you were taken from your room and (to your perspective) randomly put on another, the maids insisted it was for your safety, and you decided to not waste a breath asking them questions that were for someone else. You wanted to see Alicent, and you wanted to see Viserys

>No one would give you answers, and you had no way of communicating with your family, not your father or even your family in the castle, for that matter, you only had ser Criston as a form of familiarity, not even your usual maids were to be seen anywhere. Even though you did not wish to think of it, it was probably because Aegon had chosen them to place his "affections"

>The second night you were awake and isolated, you commanded sir Criston to come into your room and talk to you, give you whatever detail of information he had. He refused again and again, with excuses of how he answered to the queen only, how he was to the door to protect you, how it was improper

>But he ended up giving in

>He told you all he could say, was that the king had died, and that now a conflict of ink and ravens was arising

>You wept the lost of your uncle, and (awkwardly) ser Criston put a hand on your shoulder, ghosting over it. And he told you to fear not, you were in good hands

>You wanted to believe him, you did

>Back to Aemond, he had come to speak with his mother as soon as he was done arranging your room transfer. He felt accomplished by commanding, especially when commanding for your well-being. Alicent knew what Aemond would ask for, and she had tried to ready herself to hear it

>"I want lady Y/N, wed her to me" he did little to stop the smile growing on his lips

>Alicent could have said many things, but she just asked her son one thing. "Do you understand the consequences, Aemond?"

>He nodded, he did not care, if the consequences of taking you were fire and blood, so be it. Never in the seven kingdoms had existed a more lovely lady, and Aemond was only blind in one eye

>He wanted to marry her before Aegon's crowning, and he had threatened to get the supreme septon to do it in secret if he had to, he was smart, and knew it was just a matter of time before Daemon and Rhaenyra caught wind of everything, and he will not lose you

>Daeron had come to face him, Aemond never thought he had the balls to do it

>Whining about his lack of honor, how he was stealing their cousin, dragging them when she was practically engaged to him already

>Aemond let his anger simmer, he smiled while the boiling blood warmed his body, the delicious liquid reminding he was alive, he lived for the taste of rage, his or from others

>"Worry not, little brother, you can now take your vows as a white cloak, so you can become my wife's sworn sword and stand behind her door when she and I share our bedchamber"

>Daeron reached for his sword, he did the same

>"Uh uh, are you sure?" He teased while Daeron seemed on the verge of tears (sadness, ire, who knows)

>His younger brother simply walked away from him, in shame

>You were losing your mind in confusion, and no tantrums from you were enough for the servants to let you leave your chambers to visit Viserys' corpse

>So imagine your surprise when the maids came with shiny new silks, to dress you for your wedding day

>Two ladies, one named Olivya Swann and one named Celesse Hightower, announced themselves as your new ladies in waiting. They said your measures were needed to confect a wedding gown for you, you refused to strip until they spoke and told you what was going on, you felt bad for them, as they were clearly not the ones to blame for the mayhem

>It took a while, the maids genuinely did not know much, the orders came from above and they obeyed. But it was Celesse who finally broke down. They were sent to aid the preparations for your wedding to prince Aemond

>You had to sit down on the bed, your head was spinning around, now there was nothing to do, you were a prisoner in King's Landing. And it was easy to put two and two together, they were not planning to bend the knee to Rhaenyra, and you were there as a pawn in their twisted game of chess

>You yelled at the women to leave you alone, and despite their attempts to calm you down, you ordered them to go. You knew they would come back later, but you simply could not stand there like nothing was happening

>How could Alicent allow this? If they wanted to marry you to the greens, why Aemond? It was clear you and Daeron had far more in common, and comments were made about betrothing you to him, why Aemond?

>Aemond was cruel, and you could never decipher what he wanted from you, he took pleasure on hurting your family, and you were further perplexed on why would he want to marry a bastard

>Maybe he was being forced to marry you too, it would have made you almost sympathetic if it were not for his previous actions

>You tried to sleep, you layed fully dressed on the bed without covering yourself with the blankets

>You dreamt of nothing, and were awaken once again by the maids looking to measure you

>They came in, and helped you undress as to avoid the measures be altered by the thick of your clothing

>You were sleepy and docile, allowing them to carefully place the meter in your waist, bust, hips and shoulders, they also measured your arms

>Olivya presented you with squares of several luxury fabrics, one stack was several shades of white, and the other was a similar amount of shades of green.

>You did not let the opportunity slip, this would probably be the one choice you would have on your marriage

>You made your ladies show you each and every square of fabric, you took all the time in the world. Finally, the chosen ones were pearl white with emerald and laurel green. The colors reminded you of your dragon, you missed him so much, but the gods only know where he could be, he was too large for the dragonpit and therefore set free, he would have come to your calling once you left with your family, that was what was supposed to happen

>You spent three more days locked away, at least you had Olivya and Celesse now. Celesse came from Oldtown, she was the daughter of Hobert Hightower, you made her tell you stories of Daeron, as you were unable to see him. You fondly smiled when thinking of him, your dragon knight

>Olivya was from the stormlands, but she had been raised in King's Landing, as her uncle was serving in court, and she was brought to keep company to princess Helaena

>You told them of Pentos, then of Dragonstone, you told them of your little brothers, so small and cute, you also told them about dragons, you told them about your home, in all its meaning

>Three days after the measuring, the wedding gown was ready, you were amazed, and wondered how many people had been working in full speed in order to complete such an intricate piece in so little time. There was pearls and little gems embroided in the translucent sleeves, a green dress, a beautiful Hightower green dress

>Celesse spoke highly of your soon-to-be husband, telling tales of his skill with the sword and his intelligence

>Olivya told you you would enjoy married life, that the prince was a fine suitor with "admirable manners"

>You remained silent, luckily, your saddened face was covered by a white veil

>What you saw could hardly be called a ceremony, there was Alicent, Aemond and a septon. You slowly walked towards the altar, and recited the vows you had learned when fantasizing as a little girl, none of your fantasies happened this way

>Like always, Aemond was unreadable, and you did not care to try to read him anymore

>There was no feast, no celebration, nothing remotely similar to the wedding ceremony of a prince

>Like everything around the castle, it was rushed, poorly done and with second intentions behind it

>You struggled to look at Alicent, she was dear to you once, but now you debate whether should you trust her

>During the dreaded wedding night, you expected Aemond to humiliate you, to take you by force and call you names, to degrade you

>Anxiety pooled in your stomach, and your eyes burned as you tried to hold tears in

>But instead, he kissed your hand and laid next to you, not even touching you

>You must disgust him, he was forced to marry you, and he has no interest in you, you thought you found yourself in the position of Rhea Royce

>But you could speak plainly to Aemond, you always had

>"An unconsummated marriage can be easily annulled" you pointed out

>"You don't sound at all aroused with the idea, you appear hardly seductive" Aemond replied

>Aemond sat down on the bed, you copied him

>"I am not Aegon, I found screams for help less than enticing. Besides, you would never love me if I raped you" he stated as if he was talking about his day

>"Who says I love you now?" Maybe you should have not been so bold, but you were

>"We are married, you'll learn to do it eventually"

>"As humble as ever. Then let me ask why I should I love you, and you are free not to"

>"I love you, Y/N" you could feel the scorching heat coming from his eye, the sapphire shone in the candlelight. You were speechless, it would have been hard to believe if he wasn't gazing at you so intensely, he carefully took your hand in his

>"You have not acted as such" was the only thing you thought to answer

>"I am not Daeron" your eyes widen in shame. It is not unfaithfulness, yet shame makes you feel as if it is "But again, you have not treated me like you treated Daeron, have you?" He knew what he was doing to you

>"He never called me a bastard"

>Despite the topics of conversation, you both remained calmed, vulnerable in the cocoon of the sheets, your hand was still intertwined with his

>"Neither have I" he squeezed your hand a little

>"But you continue to humiliate Jace, Luke and Joffrey for it"

>"And I paid with my eye. And with you" you look at him confused after he says that, so he continues "After I bonded with Vhagar, you pushed me away, you never forgave me for it"

>"You never asked for forgiveness"

>"And I will not, not for what I did, but perhaps the way I did it"

>You and your husband talked for what it felt like days, for what it felt like years of lost time

>By the hour of the nightingale, you felt like you married one man and now lay with another. Despite his hardened exterior, you now smile at Aemond the way you did once when you were children

>"We still have time to make this wedding night exciting, my lady wife" he smiled mischievously, you looked at him with slight distrust, hoping he was not expecting sex after all that heartfelt talk "would do me the honor of flying with me?" You smiled

>"Dagahrion is not here"

>"There's plenty of room in Vhagar, I ride the largest dragon in the world"

>"You clearly have not seen mine lately" you teased

>"I suppose we'll have to clear that matter once he returns"

>You dressed up and sneaked into the dragonpit, this kind of mischief made you think of happier days, made you forget about the mess

>You missed Vhagar, she used to be Laena's, and she remembered you

>You rode with Aemond until sunrise, in that moment it was just the three of you. No marriage, no usurpation, no conflicts, nothing but the wind in your faces

>Until you had to come back, and you found the preparations for Aegon's coronation being set in place

>"This is outrageous, disgraceful, illicit! This is simply- this is bullshit, Aemond!" You shouted to him once alone "Aegon will be the worst king since Maegor and you know that"

>"I am not the one who sat him on that throne, don't you shout at me for it"

>"It's true, but you are not doing anything to stop it, Rhaenyra should be crowned"

>"Of, course, then Jacaerys Strong can become protector of the realm" he snickered sarcastically

>"May his father be Ser Harwin, Laenor or the damn mushroom, we are sure he is of Rhaenyra and that is what matters"

>"If he was born of Rhaenyra's husband then it truly would not matter if his sire is mushroom or whoever may he be, he is a bastard"

>"So am I! Appoint me leader of the bastard council If you want, because I will defend his claim to the throne, Rhaenyra is the heir and you and I know Aegon is a depraved drunk"

>"Bastard or not, you are my wife, and I will not argue anymore, you are mine now. And when you are called, I want you pretty and smiling when witnessing his coronation, because your husband says so" you had not even realized when he had caged you against the wall, his eyes burning with rage. No trace left of the man you spent last night with

>"Yes, my prince" was all you said. He nodded, kissed your forehead and left the room

>Your father used to call the court "the nest of vipers" and now you understand, the only way to survive was playing their game

>You called in for Olivya and Celesse. Told them to dress you and arrange you to attend Aegon's coronation

>You were pleasant, smiling when you had to, staying right at your husband's side, one may think of you as tame

>You even let Aemond fancy himself your hero, standing before you when Meleys interrumpted the ceremony

>Rhaenys looked at you, you knew she could not steal you away from this, so in her eyes, you imagined her apology

>You decided you will come back to your family, and so, after Aegon's coronation, you told Alicent you needed to go to the Sept, being so throughly shaken. As Aemond said you needed to be guarded all day long, you asked for Daeron to accompany you. Aemond would have never allowed it, but Aemond was not there, he was with the small council talking about recruiting the loyalty of different houses

>Once in the Sept, after praying, you looked at Daeron, it pained you to ask

>"Do you love me, Daeron?"

>"You are married to my brother, my lady"

>"We know what happened. And I did not ask you that"

>"It is improper for us to talk this way"

>You felt rejected, but once again asked "Do you love me, Daeron?"

>"I do" he bashfully responded

>"Enough to run away with me?"

>"Don't make me choose between honor and love"

>"I fear I have to"

>"Enough to run away with you"

>"Then meet me at the dragonpit at the hour of the bat"

>"Y/N, please-"

>"I will run regardless, but I would rather you are with me"

>You rose from your knees looking at him

>He came closer, your lips were near, but not touching, you could feel his breath

>"Kiss me once we're far away, do whatever you desire then" you say before leaving the Sept

>You decided to wait in the library until it was time to go, on your way, ser Criston asked if he could scort you there, you were reluctant, but skillfully lied and said it would be a pleasure

>"My lady, may I speak plainly to you?"

>"You have my permission"

>"I saw you asked for prince Daeron to accompany you in your prayers. Please don't look for him, he loves you, my lady" he made a melancholic pause, and again, his hand ghosted over your shoulder, his face close to yours "And noble ladies only run away with the knights in tales and songs"

>"I understand"

>Ser Criston's words left you with a strange feeling, he seemed sincere, did he know something you did not? Maybe you should wait before running, maybe you should find a better way to do it

>But you remained firm, and slipped out of bed once Aemond was asleep

>You went to the dragonpit, singing to the dragons, and hoping for Dagahrion to come back, if not, you'd have to leave on Tessarion

>You heard steps, thinking it was the dragonkeepers, you hid

>"Riñaaa~" you heard Aemond's voice, and you feared. You don't know if he would be capable of doing you harm, but you'd rather keep wondering

>His voice kept chasing you, in a mocking tone

>Until he finally found you

>You were a the center, and you felt the gazes of the dragons, but by far the fiercest one was Aemond's

>He pressed you against the wall, his sword unsheathed

>His body was pressed against yours, you felt him practically vibrating with wrath

>"I have wanted you for years, yet I held back, I was patient and devoted, and you run away at the first chance you get" he spat

>"I guess we had a rocky two-day marriage" if you were dying, you were doing it with your head high

>"I should have broke you, but I was a fool" it was all tension, you did not know if he would snap, or when would he, and kill you or gravely injure you

>He grabbed your face with his sword still pressing and threatening to break your skin

>He kissed you roughly, like he wanted to mark you as well as harm you, like he was tasting both heaven and steel

>When you were recovering your breath, you spoke "will you slay me?"

>"I will take you back and treat you like the backstabbing bastard cunt you are, the way I should always have" you knew this was probably the last time you will be like this, unbroken, whole

>You missed him back, tasting all the poison inside him, it was messy, rough, teeth crashing, you took him like he was your last breath. You were just saving courage

>All that could be heard was your labored breathing, Aemond's sword never moving. You felt an ache in your chest, you were scared. You wished for the mother, the celestial mother, the one that never left you, unlike every other woman you had though of as a mother. You wished for your father, although violent and rude, unpredictable and sour, he loved you with his whole heart, body and soul

>Maybe you were just going to make a fool of yourself, you hoped so, that Aemond would just laugh at you

>You took a breath of the second-hand air, smoky and anything but clean, and when your lungs were full, you screamed so loud your throat felt raspy

>"Dracarys!"

>Dragons obey their masters, and Dagahrion was not here, so it would work, supposedly

>The last thing you saw was the startled face of your husband when all the dragons around you spat scorching hot fire and burned both bodies

>Less than an hour later, prince Daeron found your remains. Some dragonkeepers said your voice commanded all the dragons to attack, others say that it was impossible, that it must have been Vhagar trying to kill you by Aemond's command, accidentally getting caught in-between

>The death of lady Y/N Targaryen, daughter of prince Daemon Targaryen, [allegedly] at hands of her own husband, Aemond Targaryen made the dance of dragons a conflict of fire and blood

[kaybreezy3000]

Five Hargreeves Dirty Headcanons ABC's

(Rated M for sexually explicit content, 5438 words, the last one for Z is sort of a mini story for you to enjoy. This list explores Five and his relationship with 'you' while taking a small dive into his very complicated psyche and looking at some of the reasons why he is the way he is. This is written with 'you' as anyone-not male or female specific.)

Note~ me doing this idea was actually born from me not sleeping last night, and a request my dearest friend Bad Kitty got to do a list this way. She just did a headcanon for Five, so she respectfully declined. Check her stuff out with the link above and I swear you won't be disappointed.

All right.... I hope I did this in a way that's satisfying for all you lovely Five fans out there. 🤞

A-      A student, Aftercare

Number Five doesn't do anything half ass, and that includes you. He’s a hyper focused genius who is going to study you like you’re just another thing he needs to conquer. Every sign your body gives him that he’s doing something right will be cataloged and used to his and your benefit. Five is all about attention to detail and from the moment the tip of his thick cock slips inside you, to the moment he’s done filling you, your pleasure is his. He will always make sure you come, usually more than once and always screaming his name.

With aftercare, he’ll be sure to touch you with the most cautious and gentle of touches as he wipes up the mess he made of you, his soft green eyes dementedly delighting in the glisten of his seed leaking out of you onto the sheets.

B-      Biting, Bondage

Five may seem refined, but he loves to let the feral part of him go wild when he’s with you, not just when he’s swinging an ax through someone’s face. Biting his teeth into your neck hard enough to make you cry out, or softly nibbling on the shell of your ear never gets old. Your agitated sounds of complaint when he does these things arouse dark parts in him that only make him want to drag his teeth along your skin and confuse you even more. Biting your quivering lower lip as his hips violently thrust into you and your nails dig into his back is just one of the ways he makes sure you never forget that you are his.

As a trained killer who loves to exert his power over others, Five is not opposed to using the silk length of his tie to bind your wrists, fastening them above your head, then to the headboard so you can’t touch him. Now you can’t get away-not that you want to.

The look of you that way and the feel of your body under him reminds Five of being with Dolores. She couldn’t touch him back no matter how much he wished she could, and now neither can you.

C-     Control

Thanks to Five’s upbringing where he didn't get to learn what it meant to have the love of a real parent, he suffers from issues of self-worth and trust. He wanted approval, but all he ever got was ridicule and abuse. Due to this, he naturally developed coping mechanisms, such as the need to be the best at everything and becoming extremely self-reliant.

Five is the king of survival, and he knows how to take care of himself.  As such, he struggles with the need to control everything. This includes many things in your relationship, especially with all things sex.

D- Dominance, Dolores

Five is dominant, there’s no question about it. Living a lifetime with Dolores as his only companion only instilled that quality in him even more. This plays heavily in his joy of you calling him Daddy, and that has little to do with his real mental age of being way older than he looks, and much more to do with him wanting to take care of you because that’s what he knows and is good at.

Just like with his beloved mannequin, Five loves manhandling you into positions that make it even better when he fucks his long hard cock into you. With a sheen of sweat causing his chocolate fringe of hair to stick to his forehead, Five could pin you down and thwack his hips into your ass while it's flipped up in the air all day long, all the while maintaining a devilish side smirk and insisting that you are doing such a good job for Daddy.

He's such a wonderfully fucked up jerk, but you love your daddy for all his kinks and oddball quirks. Even his little ticks make you want him even more.

E-      Escapism

Sex is about love for Five. He’s just that kind of man.

He could fuck anyone, but he didn’t, not until he found you. He couldn’t open that part of himself without the intimacy that a real love based relationship gives him. That’s not to say that sex isn’t his favorite form of escapism because it is.

Five is hardly a simple man, but to him, the ecstasy of having an orgasm and the momentary blind eroticism of feeling your body release in that way are just part of what it means for him to be human. He is filled with a mysterious power that may or may not be originally from the alien race his adoptive father belonged to, but he’s still a man and he loves to fuck.

F-      Fingers

This guy’s long sexy fingers are really something, whether you look at him using his dexterity when steadily pulling the trigger that ends someone’s life in the blink of an eye, or if it’s when he’s running them between your legs, languishing in the feel of your engorged flesh wetly dripping for him. Don’t be surprised if Five sucks your lust off his dangerous digits, or if he forces them in your mouth after he’s had them inside you. Both options are great in his mind, and he’ll never get enough of tasting you or good naturedly debasing you.

G-     Grasping, Growling, Groping, Gripping

While hoisting your ass off the bed so he can pump his cock into you with an unforgiving rhythm that makes your insides clench around him and your mouth drop open wide while you gasp out stuttering profanities, Five is for sure going to latch onto your hips, your waist, your hair, your neck, your thighs, or basically anything he can get his hands on.

What you have is his, and he’s not letting it go. When your bodies are connected, he couldn’t be happier. Growling out throaty sounds of euphoria as his tip slips back and forth just inside your slicked entrance, Five knows just how to manipulate your body, and he knows it’s driving you equally crazy.

H-     Humping, Holes

With no shame and little other options, Five is no stranger to getting off by humping inanimate objects, but thankfully, now he has you. Still, you are often a target for his hip thrusting exertions where his hot length grinds against the side of your leg, or your ass crack. He really likes doing this when he wakes up with a boner that refuses to be ignored.

You don’t mind, he is young again after all.

It’s hot as hell watching Five lose himself in such an innocent way, but your heart also breaks a little when you think of all the loneliness he’s had to endure and why he’s still attached to doing this.

The good news is, he’s healing from all that. He has other options when it comes to being with you, and he’s not about to overlook several places on your body where he can insert his needy cock. Five isn’t picky, he will fuck any hole you let him pound.

 I- Imagination

Let’s face it, Five has a very big imagination. Dolores anyone….

Without his ability to imagine her love for him, he wouldn’t be here. She was his voice of reason, and what he considers the personification of all the best parts of him. Without Five there would be no Dolores, and without her, there would be no Five.

Thanks to that enamel covered molding of plastic and resin, you have Five and his imagination is just as strong as it ever was. He never seems to run out of ways to ravish you. Like in public, when he blinks you into a fitting room where he then shoves you against a mirror and slips his fingers and then his cock inside you while he watches your hands palm the glass and your eyes droop.

It’s all Five and his imagination coming to life. He makes your head spin and your body spasm your shuttering release.

He gets stuck in his head sometimes, but it’s not all bad. Sometimes it's just in him fretting giving you small gifts to show how much you mean to him or it's in the simple but as meaningful things he loves to do, like him quietly reading your favorite book to you while you lay together in bed.

J- Jerking off

Five knows how to polish his palm. One might say he’s the master of masturbation.

Needs being such in his many times of despair, the act of self-love gave him something other than pain and suffering to think about. Eventually, for a young boy all alone in the apocalypse, his desire to lose himself in this way became an addition. Smart as he is, Five knew this was happening, but he still became reliant on it, and now he’s still partly that boy, and also that lonely man, sometimes a bit too involved with playing around with his hands down his pants.

He’s shameless about it, never shy about taking his hardened shaft out to show you how it’s done. Fingers tightly curled around the base, he’ll slide them up and down his erection, sure to prolong his climax as long as possible. Not until he’s had enough will he tease the super sensitive slit and the bulbing band of his cherry red tip with his forefinger, circling it round and round before he goes at it hard, fucking himself so brutally his hand is nothing but a blur.

Not one to leave you out, when Five throws his head back and growls, “Get your pretty mouth over here,” you listen. Then you are compensated with the sound of Five groaning out your name as hot spurts his nearly translucent semen flick onto your waiting tongue and then drip down your lips onto your chin.

K- Kissing

The simple pleasure of kissing someone real was something Five had not known until he found you. Not until your first kiss did he understand why people in the romance novels he’d read seemed to be so taken by it.

The first time he looked into your eyes, knowing you saw him for who he really was, all the good and the bad, and that you wanted him anyway, he nervously but determinedly advanced. Slowly at first, he came within a hair’s width from your lips as his uneasy breaths danced across your skin. He was scared, but the moment his mouth touched yours and then molded around your warmth, softly pressing into your acceptance, he never looked back.

Now, after he’s had time to learn how to do it. Five is all about kissing. Running his tongue across your teeth, or tangling it with yours, it doesn’t matter. He’s in heaven when his mouth is on yours.

L- Licking

Five may not look it, but he’s strong, and so is his tongue, and he’s not afraid to fuck you with it. Before you come, he’ll get you so worked up and dripping with anticipation that it’s insane. He’ll happily lap your liquid desire for him until you’re a puddle of goo, laying there with him between your legs, the backs of your knees dangling limply over his heaving shoulders. Catching his breath after your body has just repeatedly tensed and then uncoiled, giving itself over to his mouth, he’ll chuckle at your state of complete and utter destruction, his boyishly handsome dimple doing you in even more.

M- Manipulation

Five is very clever and knows how to get what he wants but he doesn't mentally try to manipulate you. He will however indulge in the fantasy of using you as his own personal fuck doll. This, as is many of his tastes is simply something that's a part of him ,as much as his witty yet dryly delivered comments. Sometimes he asks nicely for you to lay down and not move as much as possible, sometimes he prefers to take your options away manually, and that's when we get the extra special suppressive simulation of bondage added to his sexual exploits.

N- Nuzzling, Naughty talk

Five is many things, uninhibited in bed being only one of them, but he’s also the most loving and tender person you’ve ever known. He shows this in many ways, but one that never gets old is when he’s feeling exceptionally needy and he buries his face against your neck, murmuring sweet nothings about how much you mean to him while he brushes the tip of his nose along the underside of your jaw. He’ll press his face against your ear, cherishing the smell of your hair and the feeling of your skin against his. Five can’t get enough of loving you in these small but passionate ways.

Also, while doing this and at many other times as well, Five lets his silver tongue go verbally, never ceasing to shock you with the dirty things he comes up with. If he tells you to get over here and sit on his dick and ride until he says stop, that’s always fun, and so is watching his eyes comically roll back in his head as he cries out how fucking good you are a taking his cock.

O- Ownership

Five is possessive. He doesn’t covet things unless they have value, and he doesn’t have much to his name and never did. He is a simple man in this way. He was also the kid who did not let the other kids play with his toys, and with you now it’s no different.

He’s not the type to prevent you from doing anything you want, but he is extremely territorial. If something is important to Five, like you are, or even when we are talking about something as seemingly insignificant as one of his tailored suits, if someone dares fuck with the things he holds dear, they are in trouble.

Five doesn’t own you but you own his heart, and if anyone he’s not okay with gets too handsy and lays a finger on you or the fine wool fabric of his sexy suit, expect retaliation and not always something as simple as him angrily swatting their hand away followed by a few choice words of distaste.

P- Punishment, Promises

Being someone that considers their opinion to be more often than not the only one that matters, Five comes off very harsh at times, but with you it’s all a game.

Teasing him about his real age brings out a side in him that’s all about showing you who’s the boss. And one of his favorite ways of doing it is threatening you with holding back when your body is just about to start convulsing from the rhythmic roll of hips pushing his dick so far inside you that you're sure he’s hitting your belly button. Another way is when he throws a hand back and smacks you in the ass while you’re already struggling to keep hold of the sheets so he doesn’t fuck you straight through the mattress.

Five’s promises to take care of you are just as true as his promises that you will pay for your sassy little comments. Together, your back-and-forth, fight style flirtations always lead to him getting overly worked up, and you getting pinned somewhere like against a wall while he frantically fucks his own brains out by way of pounding the fuck out of you.

Q- Quivering, Quaking

Five is beautiful. His soft bedroom eyes with their long dark lashes fanning his flushed cheeks as he looks down at you underneath him take your breath away almost as effectively as his desperate kisses.  But it’s after he’s finally let go and let himself fall over the edge, when you can feel the heat of his cock quaking its last grievances inside you, his body quivering as his legs let go and he collapses at your side, that you are both the most at peace.

R- Rough

Five loves to take you any way he can, but the guy loves it rough. His lean body and his sinewy muscles making a mouth watering ‘V’ as they point like an arrow downwards towards his perfectly tailored dress pants, spelling out all kinds of trouble, but in this case, it's the good kind of trouble.

His body is built for action and that’s what you’re going to get. Five loves to surprise you by blinking himself right on top of you, holding you down with his legs as he attacks. Be it all his training as a child, or as an assassin, Five Hargreeves likes to fuck hard and fast, with his hands holding you down under him with no mercy.

S- Submission

Five craves your submission. Just hearing you beg for it gets him hard, and he often demands you verbalize how much you want him to fuck you harder, or make you come. He'll get you to say it, or he’ll stop thrusting his cock inside you. While you’re losing your mind, he’ll merely look down at you with his cocky grin, just waiting for you to plead with him to give you his cock again.

When it goes the other way, at least when it’s in between the sheets, Five is rarely the one to give himself over that way, but with you, he will. But he only does so knowing that it’s in his benefit.

There’s been more than once he has shown you how much he trusts you, and wow is it a sight to watch Five Hargreeves wither and writhe as you torment all his sense, using blindfolds and gags, and even handcuffs to keep his greedy hands off until you say so.

Imagine his face twisted with agony, lips parted as helpless moans for more pour out of him.

T- Tits

Your body is a wonderland, plain and simple. Anything Five can stimulate himself with while also getting a rise out of you is fair game, and that includes tits.

Small ones, big ones, his or yours, whatever. Five adores the perky points of flesh that he can nipple and suck on. Making them hard nubs with the carefully cruel but also sometimes achingly gentle tugs and rolls between his fingers, is one of his favorite pastimes whether in the privacy of your bed, or in public if he can get away with it.

U- Unlimited energy

The nature of Five’s ability to teleport is something that he never really talks much about, but you know that within him is an infinite strength. Without it, he’d never be able to summon enough energy to propel himself through time and space; it's just simple math.

That said, this same quality of his very unique power allows him an unfair advantage in bed.

Five has unlimited levels of vigor while he’s bucking his hips back and forth and his cock slips in and out, over and over and over. Always a perfectionist, he prefers you get off before him, but even when he’s not so lucky, he can rally. Using his already spent dick, semi hard and still throbbing from the loads of cum he just dumped in or on you, Five will show you that his recovery period is just as extraordinary as he is, and the next thing you know, your sexy teleporter is showing you a whole new rhythm with his hips smacking into yours.

V- Vulnerability

Most of the time, the people in this world that seem the most aloof and coldly indifferent are actually the most desperate and in need of love.

Five is this person.

All his traits point to this. With his extreme levels of trauma, he will always be this way. He longs for the acceptance he never got from Reginald and his siblings. Deep down he’s terrified of showing weakness because if he does, that means he can be hurt. The reality is, he’s already been hurt more than almost anyone that’s ever walked the planet, but in his vulnerability and fear is so much love.

Never the one to give up, Five is trying to learn how to accept the parts of himself that he hates and see that he’s someone deserving of happiness. You are a huge part of that.

W- Whimpers, Whispers, Whines

Anything that comes out of you that sounds broken and desperate makes Five’s dick and mind go wild. The more you keen and struggle, the more he tries to get more of it. It’s pretty much a vicious cycle of torment that’s part narcissistic fulfillment, and also purely for the joy of making you feel amazing. Five feeds off your pleasure.

X- X marks the spot

Five has left his mark on you. Whether he knows he’s doing it or not, he’s taken claim of your body and soul. Let’s face it, he occupies way too many of your thoughts. But his accusation of all that is yours doesn’t stop there. He also loves to mark physically.

Five uses his teeth, tongue, sucking, and licking. He’s an expert, using anything he has at his disposal. He leaves trails of his claim over you for all to see. He’s like a puppy, unable to help himself as his mouth covers you with anxious expressions of love.

Y- You

When we think about Five Hargreeves, we outwardly see a person that one would think only thinks about himself, but it’s actually the complete opposite.

As we know from his troubling past, he’s made mistakes and he’s paid for them, and all along it’s been his love for his family that willed him to keep going. Now, that’s still there despite their continued differences, but his aim in life is more directed at you.

Five wants nothing more than to make you happy. He’ll never stop being scared of losing you no matter how confident he seems. It’s not his fault; he’s lost so much, over and over.

Right or wrong, he also makes you a priority in all things orgasmic bliss. If he’s going solo, you and your naked body welcoming him are all that’s on his mind. When you are together, he’s damn sure to see to it that you get off. He’s a teleporting, ex-temporal assassin that may or may not be the founder of a time controlling agency, but first and foremost, Five Hargreeves is a gentleman, and a gentleman always takes care of his business, and you are his number one business.

Z- Zippers (Heads up~ This one is special because with it, I’m giving you guys a little taste of more in the moment/story writing that I am more used to doing. This part being very similar to something a very naughty version of Five does to someone in the story I wrote called ‘The Devil Within’)

            One of the most erotic sounds in Five’s opinion is the sound of his zipper being pulled down by your careful hand as you coyly gaze up at him with your adoring eyes.

Looking between his widely spread legs at the sight of you kneeling before him, ready to do as he asks, makes him feel more powerful than he’s ever felt, and that’s saying a lot because Five is very, very powerful and has done unimaginable things.

            It starts with a steadiness in his soothing words and his hand brushing along your cheek, then moving back into your hair. His fingers thread along your spine as he pulls you closer.

You can already see the bulge of his desire even before you open his pants, but now, pulling the fabric aside, you see the outline of Five’s erection filling the thin cotton underwear still covering him.

You know what he’s going to do but he warns you anyway.

“You’re going to eat my cock and love it, honey.”

Licking your lips, you nod.

Coming down on him, you kiss the wet spot of darkened material covering his deliciously rounded tip. Just thinking of it inside you, opening you up almost painfully, has you wishing you could touch yourself, but you don’t dare because right now, this is about him.

Sliding a hand down, Five pushes his underwear down, freeing his stiff cock.

You let out a little whimper.

Feeling pretty damn proud, Five grabs a wad of your hair, then sharply pulls your head, pushing you down closer to his body.

“Don’t be a tease, sweetheart” he tauntingly sings with misleadingly boyish play in his voice.

You lick your lips again, then open your mouth around him, your tongue leisurely tracing up the raised veins roping the length of his engorged shaft.

After only one pass, you stop to gauge Five’s reaction. 

The moment he locks eyes with you, you wrap your lips around him and Five is quick to push you down without warning, forcing you to gag around him as you struggle and gasp for air. 

Smirking, Five lets you sit that way, allowing you to adjust as he lets out a low groan over that sinful act of ruthlessness. His fingers play with your hair, petting you even if it is a degrading form of encouragement. Doing as he pleases, Five refuses to adjust the pressure he is putting on the back of your throat.

With a small smile of approval over your quick submission, Five reaches down, requesting you give him your hands. You do, then he proceeds to place them palm down on his thighs. Taking your hair again, Five lets you move freely, bobbing your head up and down, mostly working his tip with your tongue.

Your eyes flutter and your fingernails gently dig into Five’s slouched slacks as he starts rocking your head back and forth over him, making his dick disappear inside your wet mouth. Holding you the way he is, with your head tilted back, your throat open and lined up perfectly, it gives Five the deepest penetration and a view that before being with you, he’s only ever seen in porn, and the sight and the feel of it is making his already heavy cock feel like it might truly choke you if he gets any more turned on.

“If it’s too much let me know,” he says, clearly indicating that you should push back if he is too rough or if he makes you take him too deep.

He isn’t expecting it, but you immediately push back, then start circling your tongue around his cockhead as you moan. This is all part of the fun, but since this was not what he wants, Five's mind whirls with punishments he could deliver, but his stomach also fills with wonderful butterflies the more he listens to you. As you tease the underside of his shaft, his breathing grows heavy, and he can’t help but grind against your marvelous tongue.

Reaching up, your hand drags down over Five’s tensed abdomen. You’re taking your time with him, and it is evident you’re enjoying it, and the feeling of each ridge between his muscles as he holds his body tight, trying not to sway.

Five has to admit, he is enjoying this too, but then you wrap your hand around him, covering the base of his shaft, only not moving it. His hands clench and his knuckles whiten as he lets out a rough sounding sigh of exasperation.

Letting his penetrating gaze settle on you, Five is just about to start thrusting down your throat again when your hand begins to move and your head shallowly bobs over his drizzling tip while you softly suck.

Five’s body shudders and you respond by moving your hand up his length, jerking him a few times before pressing your thumb gently but firmly against the underside of his shaft where your mouth is popping on and off.

Sudden waves of pleasure hit him, followed by shaky breaths as his fingers tighten their grip on you. Taking complete control of your movements again, Five forces your head down, pushing your lips sliding along all the way to his pubic bone, only pulling your head up again so he can fuck into your throat all over again.

It’s not like he didn’t warn you or give you an out. Still, there’s no denying he isn’t getting a sick sort of pleasure from your tears, wet gags, and each and every spasm of your throat, and there is no way he isn’t enjoying the sound of your desperate whines and moans.

You want this as much as he does and you are not tapping out, but your fingers are digging into his thighs as your eyes roll back so far in your head that Five is sure your brain must be turning off because he just skewered it.

Loving every second of dominating you by roughly fucking your face so hard he is making it impossible for you to think, Five pays you back for doing so good by not holding in his deep moans and low grunts of euphoria, but all too quickly he has to stop, or it will be over, and he doesn’t want that at all.

As his hips slow and pull away, your swollen lips gently popped off him. 

Your brows furrow upwards as you watch Five with a needy expression. Feeling like he can get away with it, he taps your chin with the end of his cock, spreading the drips of drool that you can’t help but have after taking him that long and hard. 

Five smiles down at you, a wickedly charming sort of look spreading across his face as he watches you wordlessly begging. He tightens his grip on the back of your head.

“God, you are fucking beautiful,” he breathes, then suddenly yanks your hair back, forcing you to crane your neck back. “I can’t wait to paint your face.”

After a few more taps to your waiting tongue, Five swiftly brings you down on him again, immediately causing you to gag. The sound of your body fighting him and the feel of your moans buzzing against him as you twitch and repeatedly try to swallow, all have him close to the edge again, but he can’t stop now even if he wanted to.

Soon, his rhythm becomes even more aggressive as he takes your head in both hands, slamming his cock into your mouth while griding the back of your throat against his tip before pulling off, only to repeat the process.

“You really wanted my dick, didn’t you?” Five breathlessly sputters as he throws his head back and his pale green eyes disappear under his heavy eyelids.

Inevitably his brutal pattern has become more erratic. Eventually, Five pulls back, fully pulling out. His hand that was tangled in the strands of your hair is moved to your puffy lips instead.

Jerking your chin up with his free hand, he urgently askes, “Do you think you can swallow all of it?”

You eagerly nod.

With an air of desperation coming out of him, Five strokes himself needily, bringing himself closer and closer as you watch in anticipation, your mouth open and tongue out.

With a few sharp inhales, Five’s body begins to tremor, and his legs begin to feel like they could give out on him. One of his heels squeaks on the floor as he drives himself forward, intent on delivering. 

A long string of rough groans fall from Five's gaped lips as you flinch and reactively shut your eyes in response to the pearls of white falling over your waiting tongue.

Having plenty of pent-up sexual tension, not to mention a lifetime of being deprived of anything to this level of sexual eroticism, Five’s superpowered youthfully charged load repeatedly spurts out of him in heavy ropes, just like it always does.

You swallow and swallow, trying to keep up, but even though you are, Five deliberately pulls back, letting the last of his cum land across your flushed cheeks, some even dripping down, landing on your breathless body.

"Oh fuck," he gasps with his hand clasped around his shaft. His angry grip keeps moving but much more slowly as it passes over his length while he rides the last incredible waves of his release.

His crisp white dress shirt moves up and down, faster than normal as he looks down at the mess he’d made of you.

“Such a good job for daddy,” he dizzily breathes before coming down to kiss your lips, his come covering them not at all stopping him. As his hands cradle your head, he breaks away just long enough to say, "I fucking love you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There we have it people…..

🎶-Now I know my ABC’s…and you guys got to get inside’s Five’s pervy head with me. 🎶

Link to my other Tumblr story/art posts

Link to My Five Centric Master List

Link to visit me directly on A03N

[gremlingottoosilly]

you think ms.konig would try to find a loophole into learning some German like example books or media on tv or does konig forbid her watching or reading anything that’s in his language? there are times where people can pick up a new language just by consuming it in their activities, so i thought that could be a helpful. 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

The main problem with learning German as a whole is that Konig forbids it because he wants control. He moved Mrs.Konig out of her country, literally placed her in his house like some sort of trophy, and now exerts control over her life even when he is away. If she knows the language, it would mean she can be independent - get her own job much easier, find some local friends and generally doesn't depend as much on him for everything. He moved them to a small town/village deep in the mountains, it's not even as much of a touristy spot - almost no one here knows English, so Darling feels isolated and lonely. Konig would soon find out that she had learned the language since he had cameras and other means of watching over her...he thinks it's almost cute, she wants to connect to his culture and it's honestly adorable, but he wants for her to kinda stop and just obey him as usual. It's one of the most toxic aspects of this relationship that I honestly can't even try to paint as light - he controls our status as an immigrant and forces us to play by his rules because he is literally the only person in this whole country who you can relay on. If he knows we have broken the rules, especially after a few fights about this exact matter, he is going to be fuming( placing us inside the room, probably chained to the bed without a TV or literally anything to entertain ourselves. He hates doing this, he wants to play this role of happy family for longer, but it's not possible anymore, he has to punish you( maybe he can fuck the language learning from you

[legobiwan]

I want to spend a moment talking about Ford's relationship with alcohol and how it ties back to both his social isolation and relationship with Bill. Warning, there's no real thesis to this post, but I do want to explore the concrete tidbits we get in so-called 'canon.'

Before Ford meets Bill, it's more or less stated that Ford doesn't really drink - maybe on occasion (high school/college shenanigans and such) and in small amounts, but never to excess. To do so would be to lose control of both his intellect and actions, and we all know Ford loves to try and exert control over his environment.

And then Bill comes around with this proposition:

"How about I mix you a drink to make it up to you? It's called the 'Myoclonic Jerk' and it can get you loaded in your sleep. Salvador Dali loved 'em!" "I was flattered but politely declined - I'm not much of a drinker."

Well, we know how that turned out.

Long-standing crush/obsession peer pressures you into drinking and you give in, finally able to slough off your many, many inhibitions for a delightful evening of...well, we're not exactly sure what happened but we're kind of sure via insinuation. (And let's be honest. The man did build a literal shrine to Bill, a point which I feel we're ignoring in the whole Bill-crying-over-his beer-because-he-got-dumped fiasco).

Anyway, Bill feels awkward. Ford feels awkward. They get cosmically smashed and then whatever happens, happens, but there's no reason this is considered a negative event considering Ford's escalating shrine and Bill's consistent fixation.

Fast-forward to the Krampus incident.

"He asked if I was finally coming around on holidays, or if this was just to keep the Krampus from coming back. I told him it was time to drink nog until we couldn't remember what a Krampus was."

I don't think Ford's referring to virgin egg nog here.

This is fascinating shift for a man who claims he doesn't really drink not all that long ago. There has to have been enough positive reinforcement for Ford to default to suggesting getting blackout drunk again for him to even bring this up. (The last time ended up with him and Bill doing something...good - he thinks. Ford doesn't want to consider the Krampus and how he insinuated that Ford was a callous, lonely man who cared for no one by not offering 'holiday cheer' to others. He might even feel that his natural anxiety and 'oddness' dissipate when he's drunk - a common enough rationalization for people with social anxiety/issues finding a social home. Hell, it might even be a fragment of what could be attraction to Fiddleford that he's working through the same unhealthy way Bill did with him).

This isn't the last time Ford gets plastered in canon.

"I was so excited that we [Ford and Jheselbraum] spent the entire night partying and drinking Cosmic Sand - the very same kind Time Baby himself consumes. When I awoke the next morning, she was gone and I was in another dimension entirely."

Again, I don't think Cosmic Sand is a Dasani bottle in this universe. Ford waking up in a whole new dimension with no idea how he got there is more than enough evidence, not to mention the fact the Oracle used to run with Bill's gang of Henchmaniacs and Ford himself outwardly states that they (him and Jheselbraum) 'party,' which is amazing for a man who was so socially tortured for so long. (But there is something to be said for being a freak in a situation where you know you'll be a freak. For example, living abroad in a country you have no chance of fitting in due to the way you look. You accept that you're going to be perceived as weird and that takes a certain amount of pressure off you, although it doesn't really help if and when you go back home. I have the feeling Ford experienced something similar on the other side of the Portal, and aside from not being able to kill Bill, it may have contributed to some of his bitterness upon coming back to Gravity Falls. Because at the end of the day, you can't run from yourself, and Ford had been running for a long, long time).

Funny enough, this habit doesn't seem to cease even after Ford comes back through the Portal, the most notable moment being after Stan and Ford are captured by Bill while the kids run off on a - as Ford so aptly puts - 'suicide mission.'

I would bet good, legal currency that this isn't water. Why even include it in the animation - in a set of episodes that were already constrained in terms of time and plot - without good reason? The fact that he passes his canteen to Stan afterwards is telling.

They're bracing themselves.

Now, why Ford had this on him before the surprise Weirdmaggedon (and that has to be when he equipped it, as he was in captivity throughout the rest of the timeline up to the point where the Shacktron and Stan/Mabel/Dipper freed the Gravity Falls citizens) - well, that's anyone's guess.

Addiction? Wanting to feel something the way he did so many years ago? Trying to bury a fuckton of emotional issues, including the nature of his relationships with Bill and Fiddleford? (He is a child of 1960s New Jersey, and that is bound to fuck you up). Too much time spent hanging around Rick Sanchez in the multiverse? (Not out of the realm of possibility).

I've seen a few fanfics touch on this topic and I don't think it's that much of a stretch to consider that Ford - for many, many reasons - may have developed an unhealthy relationship with alcohol, not solely, but at least partially due to Bill's initial influence and that first true influenced moment possibly resulting in a scenario where Ford would be able to drop so many of his barriers and, for once, (in his mind), be a human who is worthy of acceptance without needing to prove and justify his existence through achievement and accolades.

Anyway, this would be great fodder for Stan O'War II content, especially considering the massive guilt complex/hair shirt Ford dons after the whole Weirdmageddon event.

[scoobyrooster1]

"But to Qimir it also unearthed how little he truly knew you. And something he couldn't predict or control... that probably terrified him."

Their relationship is so realistically tense and terrible i LoVe it. Because YEAH Qimir having 'killed my last teacher <3 ' in their resume doesn't really mean anything good for YOU does it.

I agree! Thats something that Qimir might want to consider haha! Glad you like it!

She's Mine [Part 2]

Qimir x (she/her)!reader

Summary: You and Qimir travel with the crew to Corinth where you pose as a high class bidder at a black market auction. However, a few unexpected events complicates your mission leaving you wounded and with more questions than answers about the nature of the job. Warnings: Angst, cursing, violence Notes: This is a slow burn story between you and Qimir. I've been researching high republic history and I'm really excited for the next chapters!

*Im trying my best to use canon history but high republic era is a little difficult so there will be discrepancies and times where I have to improvise... bear with me!

She's Mine Masterlist

She's Mine [Intro] She's Mine [Part 1]

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

One month ago...

Under the thick canopy of trees, the clearing was small, just enough space for the two of you to move without constraint.

You and Qimir had stopped on this planet for a brief respite, also provding one of the few places you could train without drawing unwanted attention.

"Again," Qimir instructed, his voice steady and commanding.

You tightened your grip on the wooden stick in your hand. The makeshift training weapon was a far cry from a lightsaber, but it would have to do. You squared your stance, bringing the stick up in a defensive position.

Qimir moved fluidly as he swung his own stick toward you. You managed to block the first strike, the wood clashing with a sharp crack. But Qimir was relentless. His next move was faster, a low sweep aimed at your legs. You jumped back just in time, narrowly avoiding the strike. You were able to catch your breath if only for a moment as he spoke.

“Keep your elbow up,” he reminded you. “Or else I'll catch you before you can block.”

You nodded, trying to focus on his advice even as your muscles burned from the exertion. It had been a long time since you trained like this. Your heart beat inside your chest so rapidly and with such force that you thought it would burst. You had to remember to control you breathing, only letting air pass through your nose, and conserve what little stamina you had left.

Qimir lunged again. You lifted your arm to block, but your elbow dropped just a fraction of an inch too low. His stick slipped past your defense, tapping your ribs with just enough force to sting. Your torso buckled over in response.

Stepping back to give you a moment to recover, he didn't need to tell you what you had done wrong.

"I get it." You said sternly.

"You need to anticipate the next move. Don't just react—predict."

You clenched your jaw in frustration, wiping the sweat from your face with the back of your hand.

You took a deep breath and adjusted your stance, raising your arm higher this time. Qimir watched you carefully, nodding in approval before launching into another series of attacks. You parried each one, your movements more precise now, more controlled.

The two of you moved in a deadly dance, sticks clashing and feet shifting on the soft earth. You began to lose yourself in the rhythm of it, your mind clearing as your body took over.

It was just you and Qimir, the world narrowed down to the space between your bodies.

Until his stick found your ribs again.

Qimir stepped back, lowering his weapon. "Better," he said, his voice softer now, less harsh. "Still a lot to learn."

You made a face about to mock him for saying a high and mighty master line.

He caught you before you could. "Don't start."

You just laughed, then nodded, panting from the effort. Your arms felt like lead, but there was a sense of satisfaction in knowing you had improved, even if just a little.

"Thats enough for today," he said, tucking his stick under his arm.

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

You jolted awake shaking off the memory that overcame your senses.

You had been traveling for a few hours and had fallen asleep regret-tingly straining your neck in the process. Qimir sat on the other side of the cargo hold.

After the heated discussion you both had… yeah it was probably for the best.

You had both taken precautions to hide any personal items that wouldn’t classify as civilian.

I.E. one cortosis helmet, vambrace, and lightsaber.

You remembered tracing your fingers over the embedded scars of the metal. It was terrifyingly beautiful.

Try it on.

Those words sent shivers through your entire body.

You wondered if when you returned to Qimirs little backwater planet, you too would craft something made of the precious metal.

Would we ever be able to return?

"Put these on"

Ian had thrown a duffle at your feet. You unzipped the bag to find far nicer clothes than the ones you were wearing.

"What happened to drawing less attention?"

“You’ll be bidding with some serious credits, you need to look as though you didn’t just crawl out of a bantha pit.”

You didn’t bother to scowl at Ian for his cruel joke.

“And who will I be today?”

“Bidder 79.”

“Lovely.”

The outfit was formal, modest, a suit-like ensemble made from breathable fabric in dark hues of blue and gray. You took one of the scarves from the bag and wrapped it around your head and hair. The less recognizable you were, the better.

“Don’t look at anyone, don’t talk to anyone, don’t answer any questions you don’t have to—”

“I think she gets it” Qimir interrupted, his voice curt.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” Ian finished.

You gave Ian all the confirmation he deserved. "Don't do anything you would do... got it."

You were dropped at the nearest corner with Rod following closely behind.

The coordinates Ian had provided led you to a rough, gritty part of the city, where the streets were narrow and the air thick with the scent of smoke and decay. The towering buildings around you were a patchwork of cracked concrete, rusted metal, and flickering neon signs, casting eerie glows onto the damp pavement. You approached the entrance of a large, nondescript building, its facade faded and crumbling, blending seamlessly into its surroundings.

Pushing through the heavy, rusted door, you stepped into a dimly lit lobby. The few figures loitering in the shadows eyed you with suspicion. You made your way to an elevator at the far end of the room, its grated door screeching as you pulled it open.

The elevator groaned to life, descending into the depths below the city. As you felt the air grow cooler and the hum of the city above fade into silence, your pulse quickened. When the doors finally slid open, you were greeted by a stark contrast.

Before you lay the Corinth black market, a sprawling underground bazaar hidden beneath the city. The space was vast, its ceiling arched and lined with cables and dim, industrial lights casting a dull glow over the scene. The market was alive with activity—merchants hawking their illicit wares from makeshift stalls, the air buzzing with whispered deals and low, guttural conversations in a dozen different languages. The scent of exotic spices, machinery, and lawlessness filled your nose.

The Corinth black market was a place where laws were only mere suggestions.

Rules, Rules, Rules... If you don't follow them, you never have to break them.

Minutes later, you found yourself seated in an uncomfortable chair, dark lenses shielding your eyes as you scanned the stage ahead. You were in a small room dimly lit but far richer than the bazaar outside. The items up for auction you guessed based on size and weight was a mix of trinkets and far more dangerous contraband, all locked away in secure containers.

Your client had provided you with only a number, leaving you in the dark about what you were actually bidding on. Your job was to outbid everyone else. Rod, as Ian assured you, would make sure you had the funds to back up whatever figure you landed on. How they’d managed that was another mystery, but one you didn’t need to solve.

“Item number XN2187”

Your eyes tracked the stage.

This was it.

What the staff placed on the table next made absolutely no sense to you.

It was a book... or... a journal?

"Let’s start the bid at 100,000 credits."

Maker.

You had to withhold your gasp.

Two people had already called out raising the bid to 250,000 within 3 seconds.

You threw your card up.

“300,000.”

You saw another card go up near the front.

“350,000”

Maker how could a journal be worth this much.

You raised your card again with no hesitation.

“400,000.”

They matched it again. "4500,000."

“500,000”

It was all fake credits and Ian had given you your instructions... attain that item at whatever price... better to end it right here.

You waited for their response, but there was none.

Got it.

“Sold...to number 79.”

Small claps ensued.

You headed to the back of the stage where the transactions were being held.

Suddenly your path was blocked, now inches away from a hooded figure.

"Whatever your being paid, we can double it." They hissed in your ear.

Rod glanced at the human stranger with his fixed glowing pinpoint eyes that seemed to show concern even for a droid.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about." You continued to walk past them.

They grabbed your forearm. Their grip was strong.

“You take it and you’re a dead woman walking.”

You could now see their face. A male human with rusty brown hair and dark eyes.

You shook off the strangers hand and stated with cold indifference, "I already am."

Your response seemed to catch him off guard.

You shrugged him off turning away, finally reaching the desk behind the curtains.

"Bidder 79?" the attendant confirmed.

"That's right. Item XN2187."

"Please have your droid exchange the credits for your purchase."

Rod stepped forward, inserting his chip into the computer. A moment later, a man presented the box.

The attendee looked at the screen, seeming pleased. "Thank you madam. Have a wonderful evening."

Your breath resumed as you smoothly took the box and gave the courtier a smile. What ever Rod had done it had worked. You cracked it open checking that the item was inside.

Rodney turned in the other direction taking a different route to meet back up at the rendezvous.

That had been surprisingly easy.

"See you back at the ship." You whistled as you turned into the crowd behind.

Something struck your mind. The force had shifted near you and you could feel it. You started scanning your surroundings more carefully.

Watch out.

You unholstered your gun but it was too late.

It was all of 2 seconds before you felt the box knocked out from under your forearm. The force of a back kick to your chest sent you crashing to the ground. Dirt filled your mouth as you hit the earth, the impact reverberating through your body. Your blaster had been sent flying across the ground.

Damn it had been a while since you were hit that hard.

Gritting your teeth, you turned to face your assailant— female Twi'lek with green skin, her imposing figure casting a shadow over you. Her face sheathed in fabric and some manner of breathing apparatuses. Time seemed to slow, the sounds of the chaotic crowd fading into the background.

The journal had fallen out of the box now laying between you and your attacker.

It was too valuable to lose. You couldn't just run.

You pushed yourself off the ground, moving faster than you had fallen. As the warrior lunged for the book, you reacted instinctively, snapping your leg out to kick their hand away. The clash of metal and bone echoed in your ears as you simultaneously snatched journal, pulling it close to your chest. The adrenaline surged through your veins as you regained your footing, your breath coming in short, sharp bursts.

She charged at you closing the distance swiftly. You dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding her grasp. She swung her arm in a wide arc that forced you to duck, the wind from her strike grazing the top of your head.

With the book still clutched tightly to your chest, you spun around, using your momentum to drive your elbow into the Twi'leks side. The impact caused her to stagger.

She recovered swiftly, raising her arm to strike again this time brandishing a small blade. You heaved your body from left to right to dodge, the knife dancing centimeters away from your chest.

You dodged another stab. But she was smart. The Twi'lek flipped the blade through the air catching it with her left hand. You felt a sharp pain spread in your chest. Too distracted with the wound in your right side, you failed to notice her right hand swinging towards you head.

Your brain rattled inside your skull as you hit the earth. Applying pressure to the bleed you turned your pounding head upwards. She picked up the journal from the floor, her other hand now brandishing a blaster pointed directly at your forehead.

"Should've taken the deal"

You only stared down the barrel of her gun. This couldn't be the end.

You wouldn't let it be the end. You blinked. She pulled the trigger. A shot rang out.

You weren't dead.

You stared at the gun.

The blaster shot hung suspended in mid-air, glowing red just inches from your nose.

It floated there, trembling as if struggling against an invisible force, caught between you and the barrel.

Qimir.

You almost couldn't breathe and realized it could only last for so long. You ducked your head before the shot could continue its intended path, piercing the dirt behind you, leaving a small scorched black hole in its wake.

Your breathing was rapid and deep as stared at the hole in the ground that was intended for your head.

The Twi'leks eyes widened. Baffled by what she had just witnessed.

"You... you're a jedi." She sounded as disgusted as she was surprised.

“Not quite.”

In a fluid motion, you kicked a cloud of dust up towards her face. She loosen her grip on the journal stumbling back. Sprinting past her you grabbed the book, the pain of the stab wound luckily numbed by the adrenaline coursing through you. She roared in frustration, but you were already several paces ahead.

You could hear her quick footsteps behind you, but you didn't look back. Your only thought was to put as much distance between you and her as possible.

You ducked into an alleyway once you thought it was safe to stop, determined to sacrifice just a moment to see what you were truly risking your life for.

You opened the book.

Scribbles you couldn't understand filled page after page. Flipping through it all you couldn't make any sense of it.

You stopped at the back of the last page.

Written then carved delicately into the leather near the binding was a name.

Mari San Tekka.

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

The plan had gone off without a hitch... if you hadn't included the unknown assailant that almost put a blaster hole through your skull.

Closing the blast doors, you buckled over, heart still racing. You ran your fingers over your cheek which was tender to the touch. It had to be badly bruised and you could better feel the one developing across your chest now that the adrenaline was wearing off. Not to mention the blood dribbling down your side.

"That went well."

Qimir had caught you off guard. You didn't think he'd be back to the ship by now with how much of a crowd that stood between you and the ship.

You inhaled deeply resting against the cold metal wall your right hand still pressing the right side of your ribs.

“You had me worried.”

You paused for a moment. You had him… worried?

"I thought I'd have to find a new acolyte after today."

You relaxed your shoulders dropping your hands into fists.

"You son of a bitch."

He smiled with his teeth, his eyes taunting, but his smile faltered when he saw your now exposed lower chest wound.

"That looks serious." You couldn't tell if he was still joking or being earnest. "And what a foul name to call with your mas--"

The ship doors hissed open.

In walked Ian and Rod.

Qimir went quiet not daring to finish his sentence. They didn't need to know what you and Qimir were. If they did, they'd all be dead.

The Jedi say I can't exist. They see my face... They all die.

If that's what it took for Qimir to shut his mouth then fine.

You snapped back to reality reapplying pressure to your side and took the opportunity to interrogate Ian.

"What the hell was that." You yelled.

Ian look disgruntled. "Seems like this cargo is more high priority than I thought."

"Ya think?" You only gave him a pleading look in response.

"Look nothing has changed. You knew what you signed up for."

"I didn't sign up for this... remember?"

"Rod, signal Shaun and Kiro. Prep the hyperdrive, set a course for Canto Bight... You might wanna take care of that." He motioned to the wound that was still leaking blood at your side. "Theres a med bay. Two rights and left."

"Thanks." You started walking towards the doors slightly lightheaded from the blood loss.

He extended a hand. "Here let me help. That looks bad."

You waved him off. "I've got it." Before disappearing down the hall to the med bay.

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

Luckily, Ian had the sense to keep a decent med droid on board. With how sketchy most of his jobs were, it would be foolish not to. The droid had effectively stopped the bleeding, stitched it close, applied bacta fluid, and recommended a pressure dressing before shutting down.

Okay, so not a fully functional droid.

You pulled out the rolls of gauze and compression wraps. The droid had cut through your bloody shirt to access the wound, leaving the tattered fabric hanging from your shoulders. In the mirror, you could see the damage--your chest was mildly bruised, the skin slowly turning a deep purple, especially closer to the wound. You applied a generous amount of gauze and began wrapping the bandage around your chest.

You managed 6 tight loops before a sharp pain made you wince, the movement of extending your torso and raising your arms too much to bear. Breathing deeply, you tried to steady both your head and your heart.

Then, a sudden movement caught your eye, and you nearly reopened the wound as you jumped—Qimir was standing in the now open doorway, silently watching you.

"Maker, you scared me... How long have you been standing there?"

"Not long enough."

"Ha. Ha." You mocked, still guarding your chest, covered but only by a sheer wrap.

"Need help?"

"I got it."

He gave you a look that said, Yeah, sure you do.

You sighed deeply. Every breath was painful. "Fine."

He walked up to where you sat on the med table, glancing at the now deactivated med droid.

"The droid couldn’t do it?"

You tilted your head in response.

"I can call Ian to wrap the rest. He seemed pretty eager," you teased.

Qimir clenched his jaw, clearly not amused, and quickly seized the large roll of gauze from your hand.

"Put your arms around me."

You shot him an incredulous look.

"Maker, you're difficult," he muttered, rolling his eyes dramatically. With a gentle touch, he grabbed your hands and placed them on his shoulders. Then, he took the roll and began wrapping it around the rest of your chest.

You let your hands move closer to his neck, lacing your fingers together and allowing your arms to sag, finding a small amount of relief.

"It's a faulty piece of equipment," you continued. "Leave it to Ian to have a semi-working med droid on a risky job."

Qimir's eyes were only focused on his hands, meticulously layering the bandaging over your wound, making sure it was secure.

"Hey, my eyes are up here," you quipped.

His focus remained unwavering, but you noticed a small smile tug at the corners of his lips.

You allowed yourself to dissolve into this moment. It was innocent, and it was yours.

He finished the last length of the bandage, gently tucking it into the top wrap. His fingers brushed against your skin, and your breath hitched slightly. If he noticed, he pretended not to. Both his hands now rested softly against your ribs, checking the stability of his work. Your hands remained on his shoulders.

He looked up at you.

You met his gaze.

"If you let someone get that close, you must make every decision with confidence and conviction. Remember—"

"Don't react, predict," you repeated the mantra.

"There's no room for error in a fight that close."

"Yes, master," you added with a touch of sarcasm.

He only nodded, still getting accustomed to your use of the title.

"Thank you," you said, recalling what had happened only hours ago.

"For the wrap?"

"No. For saving me."

"Saving you?"

"The blaster shot."

"... You're welcome."

He released you, making you remove your arms from his shoulders.

The moment was gone... and something in you would've done anything to get it back.

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

The sound of the ship rattling against the void of space ripped you from sleep. The walls trembled, and a deep, ominous roar echoed from the rear of the ship, filling you with an immediate sense of dread. You ducked out of your cot.

Qimir was already on his feet.

Before you could fully grasp what was happening, he was out the door, and you were right behind him. The cold, metallic floor vibrated beneath your bare feet as you both sprinted down the dimly lit corridor.

Suddenly, the ship lurched violently, a brutal force that sent both of you stumbling. You felt yourself losing balance, your body careening toward the metal wall. But before you could brace for impact, Qimir’s hand shot out, grabbing you by the waist. He swiftly twisted his body, pulling you against him, sending himself backwards.

His back slammed into the wall with a sickening thud. You felt the force of it reverberate through him as he grunted, but his grip on you remained firm.

For a second your chin rested on his collar bone. His mouth grazing your forehead and hair. The heat of his body was a stark contrast to the cold metal wall you were expecting moments ago. You were pressed against his chest, your breath catching as you looked up at him. His expression unreadable.

"Your stitches." He questioned.

"Fine." You assured him.

He only scanned you for a moment then let go of you continuing to walk down the corridor. You hesitated for one second, your heart still racing, before following him.

When you had finally reached the cockpit you found Ian walking toward you and through the doorway before grunting. "Might be a problem with the hyperdrive. We have to make a pit stop."

Any thoughts of Qimirs skin against yours was gone.

You followed him back down the hall.

"Qimir."

He stopped.

You gave him a look.

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

"Mari San Tekka” he repeated the name you had given.

“Do you know that name?”

“Not the person, but the San Tekkas were a great dynasty, closely affiliated with the Republic as hypersurveyors”

"Hypersurveyors?"

"Mappers who worked for the clan, charting new hyperspace routes."

"The writing, I didn't see it at first but they could've been notes or calculations."

"Could you read any of it."

"I've seen hyperspace calculations before, but I didn't recognize the figures in this book. Why would someone risk so much to retrieve it?"

Qimir took a long pause. "I don't know."

The uncertainty laced in Qimirs voice irked you more than you'd like to admit.

———————————————

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!

[respectthepetty]

This is gonna sound very weird but I hope as we go on with the show you won't stop making posts about how much you love Ming's toxic ass cause they make me laugh and I'll need them when in the future I'll feel the urge to somehow strangle Ming through the screen. No pressure but please help a girl in need if you can!

You're writing to the person who is openly praying that Ming gets worse (amen), so I am not one to call others weird.

Something about those who live in a glass house shouldn't throw stones, you know?

Because, once again, I want Ming to be awful to Joe, and only Joe, which I know is kind of weird of me, but I'm just too happy to care.

A few people have commented that Ming will get worse, and I'm giddy from the mere thought of it, so I'll be here all season being unhealthy about Ming's behavior.

Because in the first episode, he was awful, which I LOVED, and I don't think some people really see just how bad he was simply because he is being played by Up, which was a brilliant move by casting, so I love that the show directly told us he is a nightmare, and we could judge all his actions accordingly.

Regardless of Tong's fake personality, Ming just showed up at the set without any warning and ambushed Tong at his job

Ming only wants to eat alone with Tong, and it's of course because he likes Tong, but he even hung up on his sister mid-conversation after she threw him a little welcome back surprise (sidenote: I think he and his sister might be similar personality-wise because her call while Tong was eating with Ming was convenient)

Ming doesn't tell Joe his name or how he got Joe's number

He called Joe drunk and obviously pissed off, then snapped at the staff for being shocked by his behavior

He doesn't tell Joe he thinks of him, but instead reversed Joe's statement to point out that Joe thinks of him

He doesn't compromise

And none of these have to do with sex and Ming wanting to fuck Joe because he looks like Tong because Ming's toxicity isn't just about sex.

This is about how meek Ming is around Tong

Compared to how aggressive he is with Joe.

Pushing Joe down and standing over him, which in the heat of the moment doesn't seem like much.

But Joe took Ming to his house because Ming told him to. Joe doesn't eat instead opting to watch Ming eat. Joe lets Ming spend the night because Ming asked. Joe gets on the bed because Ming tells him to. Joe goes to Ming when called. Joe bottoms because Ming wants him to. Joe does everything Ming wants.

With Tong, Ming can't control anything, but with Joe . . .

Ming's gonna control everything.

Or at least that's what I'm hoping!

So I'll be here all season, cheering every single time Ming does something truly fucked up because he is going about his issues in the worst way by trying to exert dominance on a stand-in of Tong since he is weak for the real Tong until he ends up regretting it once he loses Joe and tries to replace old Joe with new Jo which restarts the vicious cycle that began this entire shit show in the first place! *deep breath*

God, I'm so happy!

[sheikfangirl]

Since you're the Queen of Puppet Zelda, what are your thoughts on these possible explanations for her level of autonomy?

Is Puppet Zelda merely made of Gloom and acts as a physical extension of Gannondorf himself so he has a set of eyes, ears, and hands that can travel and exert influence outside of his perch in the Depths, but as a higher quality puppet/projection (and therefore more taxing on his power to maintain) than the Gloom Hands and Phantom Gannons? Or is she a separate being entirely, created by him, but given her own agency, mind, and will to make her own decisions, in so far as she's still a slave to doing Gannondorf's bidding? She doesn't need constant effort on his part to control or exist, but would have probably cost him a chunk of his power upfront to create.

Could she be something else?

First, let's rectify one thing: I am NOT the Queen of Puppet Zelda. Puppet Zelda IS MY QUEEN. (But thanks for the compliment, I am blushing over here 🤭)

Secondly, thank you so much for your interest in my HC. I will happily share my thoughts on this criminally underused character that has drama written all over. This is an overview okay because I feel I could write a freakin thesis paper on Puppet Zelda 

Quick note: I am not pretending to be right or to have the absolute truth. This is my headcanon, the backstory in the back of my mind when I draw my Puppet Zelda art.

All headcanons are valid, games are interactive media, and the relationship and connections one has with a game are personal.

As you might know, English is not my first language and  visual support helps me explain things... so I made a graphic. I hope this will help understand my take of this character and why I love her so much🤣🤷‍♀️

In a nutshell:

I think Puppet Zelda is an independent minion created by Ganondorf using his magic powers. He created a shell in Zelda's image from 10 000 years ago to do his bidding and re-used her 10 000 years later to distract Link to buy himself the time to regenerate to full power.

Exhibit A: Ganondorf's Magic

If Ganondorf can spawn a whole list of monsters and gloom hands, he created Puppet Zelda too. The monsters are not continually controlled by Ganondorf, right? They do his bidding, they do what they were "programmed & designed" for, we might even say. I think it's the same for Puppet Zelda. But she is definitely a more defined and complex creation.

Exhibit B: The Hot henchwoman trope

I am not gonna lie: This is one of my very favorite tropes.... EVER! I always fall for the hot henchwomen. Ganon's quote from the glorious Sanctum scene during  the "Crisis at Hyrule Castle" scene makes me absolutely think she is indeed autonomous. "Did my puppet distract you?" Ganondorf asks Link in that chilling and subtext filled scene.

Puppet Zelda had one objective: To distract Link.

Ganon was busy regenerating. Having to control or act through someone would've been too power consuming. I don't buy it's a manifestation of him. AT ALL. so...yeah. hot henchwoman trope. Also, I'm a lesbian and I have no interest whatsoever in Ganondorf.

...HOT HENCHWOMAN TROPE SUPREMACY!! Yep. Fanservice for me.

Exhibit C: Real Zelda's Angst

This is where it's getting twistingly FUN.

This is an HC I assimilated like a borg from my ZHS buddy @kazraza  Her theory is so ***** angsty and delicious and I love it! 

At the time of King Rauru and Queen Sonia, Ganondorf created a pawn with Zelda's appearance so that it could get close to them and attack.

Then, in order to distract Link 10 000 years later, Ganondorf had to "refine" his weapon. He needed "data and real Zelda knowledge" uploaded into Puppet Zelda to ensure her credibility and the success of her mission. He wanted to make sure she could distract Link and trick him. 

And where did all this personal knowledge of Real Zelda's innermost intimate thoughts and insecurities come from, you may ask?

Well from the real Zelda herself of course!!

But when and where was this data collected?

We believe all of Zelda's Angst was leached directly from her during her 100 years mystic battle containing Calamity Ganon in this Malice Cocoon in Breath of the Wild. *GASP* Puppet Zelda was there all along in Breath of the Wild....absorbing all of Zelda's angst!!!

This is why everyone was confused and tricked by Puppet Zelda in TotK. This is why Puppet Zelda asks Link if he remembers their time at Hyrule Castle: she has Zelda's pre-calamity memories and this why Link is so tortured in my art! She can REALLY mess with him big time. I really like to think there is a part of real Zelda inside Puppet Zelda. Her dark side: Her anger, her cockiness, her jealousy, her selfishness... her desire. 

She is also kind of Zelda's answer to Dark Link.

Alright I wrote enough for tonight. To whoever took precious minutes of their lives to read this well...thank you! I am now moving on with my life too 🤣

For more HC about Puppet Zelda, her powers and influences, this should be all covered in future art

(i hope)

Cheers!! And glory to Puppet Zelda ✋

[sokkastyles]

I hope you don’t mind me sending in asks every so often, because I really love your blog and I like reading your opinions/analyses of ATLA’s story and characters. What I want to talk about is this one trope in fiction that I’ve always liked and wanted to see more of, which is “Person A sees characteristics of Person B’s personality or abilities that are kind of morally dubious or complicated and possibly less than desirable (depends on what the ability or personality trait is) and even though Person B has complicated feelings about what they saw, they never flinch or look away from who Person A is.” Because I’m obsessing over Zutara again, this made me think of the scene where Zuko sees Katara bloodbend for the first time and while he is momentarily surprised, his facial expression goes back to normal quickly. Something similar happens when he sees her waterbend while confronting Yon Rha. I really wish we had gotten a scene where Zuko and Katara actually talk about her blood bending abilities, though the main reason I wanted this isn’t only because of the potential for another Zutara moment. I also really wish the narrative had utilized bloodbending more and that we had gotten to see more of Katara’s complicated, ambiguous feelings about bloodbending (and yes I know she didn’t like bloodbending in canon, but I wish we got to see her be a bit curious about it or not knowing how to feel about it before she decided that). What are your thoughts about this? Is there anything about Katara’s bloodbending that you wanted to see explored in the narrative as well?

First of all, I love getting your asks! They are always very well thought out and insightful! I think you sent me another one that I didn't get a chance to respond to yet because I have been very busy, but I'm not tired of getting asks from you at all!

And I do think an underrated aspect of Zuko witnessing Katara bloodbend is that it's validating to him as an abuse survivor, as a fellow child of war who also lost his mother, as someone who deals with anger issues, to see Katara bloodbend and be able to control her bloodbendinng in that moment.

I do not think that Zuko was intentionally living his revenge fantasies through Katara or encouraging her to commit violence. We've actually seen both Jet and Hama try to do that to Katara and there are some distinct differences. If you recall the way Jet and Hama talk about their actions, and the way they try to get Katara to also do those things, they appeal to her with specific language. They appeal to her anger, specifically, telling her to think about what happened to her mother. They take joy in assuming that she is just like them and has sunk to their level.

When Zuko talks with Katara about Kya, he does not focus on her anger and loss and the need for revenge. Instead, he tells her that Kya was brave. When he sees himself in Katara, he doesn't see negative. He sees someone who is angry, yes, but also someone who isn't controlled by that anger.

Part of the problem with the way antis talk about this episode and Zuko or Katara specifically is this pathologizing around whatever "fantasy" they think Zuko or Katara might be engaging in. And let's be real for a second. It is actually incredibly common for abused children to have revenge fantasies about their abusers. Like, incredibly common. But it's something that is not talked about very often because we don't like to think about it. When it is talked about, it is usually in terms of the person becoming violent themselves.

I do think that Zuko wanted for Katara the same thing he got with his father, the chance to confront him and to walk away, to not be goaded into violence or sink to that level. But that doesn't mean it isn't also incredibly validating for Zuko to not only watch Katara have power over this man, but to be able to exert enough control over that power to be able to walk away.

Which is similar to what Zuko does with his father. Zuko doesn't want to be angry anymore, but that doesn't mean he suddenly becomes a doormat. And when he faced his father, he was prepared to fight if he had to. He brought his swords, he redirected lightning right at Ozai's feet. He made it clear that he could have hurt Ozai if he had wanted to. But he has enough control over that anger not to. Directionless anger is ultimately similar to intrusive thoughts of revenge, because both make the person feel helpless and out of control.

Also my piping hot take is that Aang was afraid of Katara's anger because he himself never learned to control the Avatar state, whoops.

Anyway, I love that Zuko has that moment when he maybe sees a bit of his old self, the part of himself that was angry and wanted to hurt people because he was hurt, in Katara, and it surprises him. But now he's wise enough to have compassion for himself, and for her by extension, and understands now that that anger comes from grief.

[coochellati]

My dear, I always look forward to your Bruno posts! Within your canon, could you maybe do some headcanons about some kinks the capo has? I can totally see him being ashamed of some of the stuff he might be into

AWE thank you!! I appreciate your kind words so much 💕 and HELL yes!!! This is such a fun question!! I’m so excited you asked this, and I can’t wait to share my thoughts 😭💕

Also, I fully agree with you—there are definitely some things he's into that he feels ashamed about, mostly regarding his submissive desires. (I believe he can become more comfortable with them over time with his partner's help.)

I discussed this topic with Maggie, so I want to give her a shout-out! (@phosphor-escent / @cornerfortherats) Go check her out, she’s awesome 🩷 (and she’s a fantastic person to hold a deep conversation about Bruno with.)

Alright, let's get into it!!!

Length: 1.5k words

Dom/Sub Dynamic

Most of Bruno's kinks stem from his main one, which is his affinity for a dom/sub relationship in the bedroom. (Specifically, the power imbalance that comes from such a dynamic.) Bruno is a powerful individual--he holds much authority as a Capo or the Underboss of Passione (like he is in my post-GW headcanon.) He enjoys exerting this power in the bedroom, taking pleasure in the control he has over you.

However, Bruno's job also puts him in a position where he rarely gets a break from being in command. Because of this, he isn't just a dom--he also finds it exhilarating to relinquish his authority and take on a submissive role.

One of the reasons a power dynamic turns him on so much is because of the deep trust required between both partners for it to happen. There's nothing more intimate than being able to fully trust your partner, and the fact that you're allowing yourself to be put into such vulnerable positions demonstrates the deep trust between you. (And the same goes for Bruno when he's in the submissive role.)

Now that I've established that I believe he is a switch, we can get to the kink list. For each kink, I will specify the context in which he enjoys it. (Domming, subbing, or both?)

Orgasm Control

He enjoys the use of orgasm control when domming and subbing, with an emphasis on edging and denial.

When domming, he loves watching your reactions to what he's doing and seeing how desperate you become for him. It's the fact that you want him and that he's the one giving you that pleasure that gets him. It's no wonder (he kind) of power trips off of it.

When on the receiving end, part of what excites him is the unexpected nature of it. He has no idea when you'll let him cum or deny him pleasure, which keeps him on edge--literally and figuratively.

Overstimulation

Becoming overwhelmed/overwhelming someone with stimulation is something he finds particularly hot. He'll crumble apart into a mess when you do it to him.

Discipline

Bruno enjoys this kink in the context of both roles. He can be particularly evil as a dom, and one way he enjoys disciplining you involves using orgasm control as a form of punishment. Playing games that hinge on his lie-detecting ability excites him--if you get caught lying, he punishes you. ;)

Being punished is something he enjoys as well--being "put in his place" reminds him of the power imbalance at hand. He especially enjoys being spanked, flogged, overestimulated, edged, and denied.

Bondage

He loves bondage in any context, and it just so happens that his stand ability is perfect for this kink. Bruno can get extremely creative using Sticky Fingers--for instance, he can use his zippers to attach your body to something, attach your body parts together, completely zip you apart, etc., etc. (I am very passionate about this topic, and have written about it extensively.)

This next thing doesn't exactly fall under the bondage umbrella, but when you're restrained, he may decide to use his cock on you as a dildo, having Sticky Fingers detach it from his body.

Being restrained is fun for him, too, and the power loss that comes with it excites him. There is, however, a slight issue: if you're using normal methods to restrain him, Bruno can escape at any time with Sticky Fingers. This can make the task of creating immersion more difficult--if you don't have any way to keep him from using his ability, there's a good chance he'll eventually break out on his own accord and flip the switch. He's too much of a weasel to let you get away with domming him for so long.

If you're somehow able to keep him from using his ability, (perhaps you're a stand user yourself,) it would increase his arousal tenfold--knowing he can't escape no matter what adds a nerve-wracking, salacious thrill. (He's nervous because he generally doesn't like it when he has no control over his situation. It's hot in a sexual context, though.)

If he stays restrained until the end, (or decides to be good and plays along,) he may turn on you as soon as he's set free. He's not going to let you get away with what you've done to him. ;)

Praise

He loves praise in both contexts, especially when he's on the receiving end. Being told, "I'm proud of you," isn't something he hears very often, (especially not from the people he's associated with,) so when he hears he's doing well in the bedroom, he feels like he's walking on air. Maggie stated that she likes to imagine that there would be a 50/50 chance that if you praised him during his first time, he’d finish early.

I agree with this statement.

Biting

Do you know what cute aggression is? According to Wikipedia, it's "the urge to squeeze or bite things perceived as being cute without the desire to cause any harm." In other words, it's that feeling you get when you see something so cute you want to squeeze it. Bruno can't help but feel this way toward you at times. (He only really acts on it in the bedroom.) It's worth noting that his bites aren't too painful; they're just strong enough to leave a small mark that fades within a day or so.

He's not into receiving bites--he doesn’t want to have to explain to people in the workplace why he has them.

Hair Pulling

For Bruno, pain (in small doses) heightens the pleasure and makes the experience more enjoyable. As long as you're not yanking his hair from his scalp, he's enjoying it. He also makes a point to be delicate with your scalp because of this.

Latex and Lace

Do I need to explain this one?

Kidding aside, nothing turns on Bruno more than seeing you adorned in lacey garments or a tight, latex bodysuit that hugs your body in all the right places. Need a way to get him hard quickly? Wear something sexy. ;)

Here's the best part: not only does he enjoy seeing you all dressed up, but he also loves dressing up himself. (OF COURSE!! He's already got that lacey one-piece he wears every day.) His confidence soars in garments like latex and lace--nothing makes him feel sexier. (Can you imagine Bruno in a latex bodysuit? Jesus Christ almighty, I would die on the spot. OH my god, the bulge. )

Giving Massages

Given that he loves focusing on you, Bruno would happily lather you in body oil/lotion and massage your entire body. The poor guy would be rock-hard after doing this. (Of course, he'd also be rock-hard if you gave him a full body massage--even more so if you threw in a happy ending. ;))

Pegging

Bruno's into being pegged, but he feels a bit of disgust himself for thinking that it's hot.

Part of the reason he wants to try it is because of the submissive aspect. When you have "control" over him, you don't usually truly have total control since he could easily take it back from you. (Unless you have a way to prevent him from using his ability—thank you, Sticky Fingers.) However, it isn't as easy to get away from being pegged, and part of that makes him a tiny bit nervous to try it, given that he doesn't usually like it when he has no control over a situation.

However, his more prominent hang-up is the fact that he hasn't had someone tell him it's okay to have these sexual thoughts, and he feels conflicted about his desire to try what he lies. Of course, he believes people can do what they want with their bodies, but he feels like he needs to hold himself to a different standard.

Also, his disgust towards pegging has nothing to do with him being a man and taking something up the ass--it's more so because it's his ass... he's a hygienic man, and it feels wrong.

I don’t know if these next ones fall under a kink, but here are a few other things I believe he’s into:

Tasting you

Bruno loves dragging his tongue across your skin--tasting your arousal through your sweat (or arousal fluids) is one of his biggest turn-ons. (Come on, he tastes sweat as a part of his job. Of course, he's going to be into this. And let me clarify something: licking others in general to run his lie-detection test isn't something he's into--I’m specifically talking about being into tasting the arousal of his partner.)

A fun game he makes out of this involves his lie-detecting ability--he'll ask embarrassing things that would be hard to answer truthfully, and if you get caught lying, you get disciplined. ;)

ORAL!!!!!

Bruno is extremely into oral and especially loves receiving blowjobs--he never lasts long at the sight of your pretty mouth around his cock. He also loves giving but feels guilty that he enjoys receiving slightly more.

He also loves the sensation of getting his fingers sucked on--it gives you a chance to show off what you can do ;)

Mutual Masturbation Phone Sex

He especially enjoys it when he has control over your masturbation, such as telling you how to touch yourself and when. It's having that control over you that really gets him.

And that’s my comprehensive list of his kinks!!! There may be some stuff I've missed, so I'm curious what you guys think! Anything else he’s into?

[webanglikethat]

On Gabe. (TW // abuse)

as a victim of abuse myself, everyone complaining that Gabe is not ''abusive enough'' makes me so enraged. just because we don't see sally limping with a black eye while blood is rushing down her face, it does not mean she's not abused. it's important to recognize that abuse can manifest in various forms, including emotional, psychological, verbal, and financial abuse and even more. it is not always visible or easily identifiable. abuse leaves scars that aren't always visible to the naked eye. stop pretending it is always black and white.

he is financially abusive: he is unemployed and seemingly devoid of any inclination towards responsibility. he shamelessly exploits Sally's hard-earned money and so, her efforts to secure a stable financial future for herself and Percy are callously disregarded as Gabe channels those funds into a destructive vortex of gambling.

he is verbally abusive to Percy: he always belittles him, undermining his self-esteem and sense of worth. Percy is barely twelve, living in a world that was not crafted for him, and he is trying to come to terms with that and there is Gabe, taking advantage of that. the psychological impact of Gabe's actions goes beyond mere verbal jabs; it seeps into the very fabric of Percy's self-concept. if you want to believe it or not.

he is okay with physical abuse: when Percy mentions he got kicked out for ´´assaulting a girl´´, instead of the expected concern or guidance everyone would expect, Gabe's response is a simple yet chilling "okay," delivered with an almost impressed and approving tone. rather than condemning the use of physical force, Gabe's indifferent response suggests that he too would be okay with it and that perhaps, Percy's house isn't the safe place he thought it would be. (which we know is true, if you have read the books)

he is mentally abusive: HE answered Sally’s phone and spoke to the principal at Yancy. Gabe, ever the puppeteer, attempted to extend his influence by seeking to control not only the household dynamics but also the very upbringing of Sally's son.

coercive control: in this scenario, Gabe is exerting control over the family's mobility by dictating access to the car. by making Sally negotiate, Gabe is asserting dominance and creating an environment where Sally feels compelled to seek his permission for everyday activities.

and I cannot believe that twelve year old Percy saw the red flags before some of you all -- who are grown adults -- did. Percy's recognition of the subtle manipulation tactics employed by Gabe showcase the emotional intelligence and observational skills that children can only develop when navigating difficult circumstances (shoutout to my psychology class).

so you know what? I think TV shows need more representation like this. the portrayal of Gabe as an abuser who initially appears harmless and quite stupid aligns with the reality of many abusive relationships because contrary to popular perceptions, abuse doesn't always manifest in blatant physical aggression or explicit threats. more often than not, it takes on subtler forms, such as psychological, emotional, or financial manipulation (as I already mentioned). and I am so proud that the show chose this narrative path because it sheds light on the less-discussed aspects of abuse. in my opinion, the show proves to be a valuable resource by deviating from conventional tropes in its portrayal. victims often hesitate to seek help when their experiences deviate from the expected narrative, and bystanders may struggle to recognize the more subtle aspects of abuse, perpetuating a culture of silence and impunity for abusers. so good job to the percy jackson directors, you got my respect. <3

[quitealotofsodapop]

[Once Mac learned that Wukong got possessed trying to take down LBD, the shadow monkey almost 99% decided that he wasn't going to lose his King to that bony biotch. And depeneding on how messy the Samadhi Fire ritual goes, the last thing Wukong says to Macaque is along the lines of "You ruined everything!", and Macaque doesn't want those to be the last words he hears his King say…] + [And soon Macaque started to remember how much him and Wukong discussed Having a family once the war on heaven was over, and how much they both wanted to be parents…]

he spent this whole time trying to put the... whole thing with Wukong on hold until he was free from LBD's control. keyword being trying, ofc. things don't really work like that when you're tasked with hunting the other monkey in question and his friends down, so he accidently made things worse and know he's trying to reign everything back in long enough to have even a chance to fix it.

[Its also around the time Macaque really has it sink in that; "Oh sh-t. I attacked the Monk and fought Wukong when he was pregnant. No wonder he killed me." He isn't sure how to build himself up to discussing this fact with Wukong yet, but he'll get there.]

it's probably something he decides to bring up shortly after the whole s4 debacle. Between the fight from right before ep 1 to the world almost ending again, he doesn't want to risk his death potentially being another surprise argument that gets out of hand or risk another world ending event getting in the way of any substantial healing again. he knows disagreements are normal and even healthy in any kind of relationship, lest the relationship be codependent, but he'd rather not fight about that.

[Red's hair is ruined with baby monkey drool by the time someone gets Yuebei off of him.] + [Nezha, angry flames flaring up: "You mean to tell me that you were "with Stone Egg" during the ritual to separate the Samadhi Fire!? She could have suffered the same fate as Ao Lie!" Wukong, guilt-ridden: "Yeah. Don't remind me. She kicked me non-stop for days afterwards."] + [Yuebei: *tries grabbing Nezha's skates to test the "spicyness"*]

Wukong is laughing at Red the whole time.

Ne Zha def feels a bit guilty about his first reaction being to bring up Ao Lie's death, probably knowing how Wukong feels about it.

and aww no, no I'm picturing Wukong so in pain from Yuebei's distress that he's basically bedridden. I imagine he'd spend this time resting with Ao Lie until they both recovered (atleast on the surface) while the other pilgrims fuss over both of them.

Ne zha can only squawk indignantly when Yuebei manages to get her mouth around one of his rings, immediately trying to pry it from her little jaws. with him and Wukong combined it takes 10 minutes and the promise of a lot of fruit to get her off. luckily the rings aren't perpetually on fire.

[And the dragon's last words to assure his friend that he never blamed him for the accident, nor his baby. Ao Lie was just sad that he'd never be able to meet the cub in this lifetime. He just wants Wukong to stop being so hard on himself for it. If only the dragon he tell him that in person.]

Scroll of memory! Ao Lie already broke the mold by interacting with Mei, he breaks it again when MK + Macaque are scroll diving for Wukong by telling him to pass on the message to the king that his stance on the matter hasn't changed.

[He def makes an awkward apology once they run into eachother at the start of S3. He refuses to let Wukong get into danger or exert himself tho - Nezha's a momma's boy at heart after all.]

Wukong insists it's fine, and that Ne Zha couldn't have known that he kept it from basically everyone, but Ne Zha still feels bad about everything regarding the ritual. he intends to make up for it by doing whatever he can to protect Wukong and his little one now (even if Wukong insists its not nessecary)

[Spider Queen hears the sounds of a thousand knuckles cracking and realises that she's looking at the person who might as well be the Monkey King's Mama. SQ ain't even mad by the end of it.] + [And although SQ kinda trusts the demon a little more, she's far more hesistant to step on the Monkey King's toes than before if his Mama's gonna respond. SQ is a lot more scheming for the rest of S2.]

I love the mental image of Guan Yin using their hundred hands to aid in their righteous beat down

Spoder Queen knows she kinda deserved this, she did put a heavily pregnant person who is practically made of magic in a magic draining web. she was basically asking for this.

she will take this loss with the dignity and grace of the queen (believes she) is and not bother Wukong again (yet) she promises- please don't punch her again.

[LBD almost in the same fashion it tried absorbing the Samadhi Fire so many years ago - guess his baby found the ancient demoness "less spicy".] + [BTW I love the art you did for this scene!! Stone Egg had enough of LBD's nonsense and was Hangry, and Bama had spoken some sense into Baba, and now Nom NOM NOMNOM.]

she is very icy!

and I'm glad you like the art!

[Oh gosh Macaque realising that the baby looking like him brings Wukong joy too would make him cry even harder. He almost cost his mate everything by risking the world over his own debt to the Bone demon. Mac would gladly have died all over again if it kept the baby safe.]

Macaque is an inconsolable sobbing mess of emotions for a while after first meeting Yuebei, for a lot of reasons. and imagine how hard he cries when Wukong first names her out loud officially calling her "Sun Yuebei Xing" for the first time, Yuebei being a moon inspired/adjacent name. he's practically wailing at one point.

[She plants a big kiss on Yuebei's forehead, forgetting that her lipstick stains. Her husband chuckles, still teary-eyed, at his wife's embarassment at planting a big kiss mark on the baby's head.] + [MK is having unknown instinctual urge to curl up with Yuebei (his honorary sister) next to the other monkeys. Pigsy laughs that MK did the same with his fave plushie for years.]

Wukong laughs at the befuddled chirp Yuebei makes when PIF kisses her.

he would also very much welcome MK into his nest with his sleepy little family.

[Also, Mac is def the kinda guy to use exaggerated versions of the Brotherhood's voices when narrating villain characters in Yuebei's books. The little raspberry noises (or "Boos" as Mac likens them to) she makes at the voices encourages him even further.]

I love this. He so would. Wukong would be laughing his tail off the first time he hears Macaque voicing a villain with an over exaggerated Peng voice, Wukong actively encourages him to do this as well.

[And considering Yellowtusk is the only one with the sense to feed and bathe the hostage infant, he's not surprised when she turns on Azure and Peng specifically.]

I'm now thinking of a scene where yellowtusk manages to get Yuebei away from the others long enough to give her bath, and she's fussy about it but baths with her Baba and Bama in the mountains hot springs were usually fun and calm and she felt better afterwards so she didn't put up much of a fight when Yellowtusk tried to get her into the water. anything that reminded her of her parents is comforting right now. but she's crying the whole time and chirping for her parents as she's very far from home and with no one she recognizes, but this elephant is giving her fruit and cleaning her as best he can, so maybe he's okay? she ends up clinging to his trunk like how'd she would cling around her parents neck, and thats how he got his sore trunk during Yuebei's "tantrum". it wasn't her getting mad at him the same way she got mad at Azure and Peng, she was just scared and clung to the first person she felt was safe with, her uncontrolled baby strength leaving it's mark despite him being the only one she didn't really feel threatened by.

kinda sad note on Yuebe missing her parents, but I feel like she'd have seperation anxiety after the s4 debacle. she needs at least one of her parents in the room with her at all times when she's awake or she's wailing at the top of her lungs.

[Some of Peng's feathers are stolen too (Yuebei had a mouthful of them) and Macaque and Sandy turned the feathers into a cat toy. Mo and Yuebei both adore it.]

this is amazing Macaque would so let Yuebei keep a "trophy" of her victory over Peng in the form of a baby appropriate toy. he also is def never letting Peng live down that they lost to a baby if they ever meet face to face again. hell, they day he got Yuebei back he was ragging on Peng for their loss before the bird could even be peeled off the ground

Sequel to this Slow Boiled au post.

[he spent this whole time trying to put the... whole thing with Wukong on hold until he was free from LBD's control. keyword being trying, ofc.]

Yeah, Macaque is having a not-so-fun time trying to get used to being alive again, being still in love with his former mate (who killed him), having his soul indebted to a omnicidal Bone Demon, his former mate having a baby etc...

After finding out about MK and the Stone Egg; Mac was sorta half-hoping that he could duck LBD enough to slowly absorb the whole Wukong situation, maybe meet up with some old allies, get some answers, that sort of thing. The Mayor kidnapping him really threw those plans out the window.

[it's probably something he decides to bring up shortly after the whole s4 debacle. Between the fight from right before ep 1 to the world almost ending again, he doesn't want to risk his death potentially being another surprise argument that gets out of hand or risk another world ending event getting in the way of any substantial healing again.]

It's def a super awkward thing to approach, especially with Yuebi literally just being born and stuff.

Wukong now knows that Mac knows, and is super guilty for not having told him back then. At the same time, Wukong is confused why Max seems so... ok with it suddenly??? Like;

Wukong: "Dude, I killed you." Mac: "Yeah, and I attacked you while you were carrying a baby. Lets call it even." Wukong: "You didn't *know* at the time!" Mac: "Don't matter. Lets just drop it ok?"

Mac does have his own super complex issues regarding the whole "being killed by your former mate"-thing, but in his mind - he really could have killed Wukong and Yuebei if he hadn't been careful. He also knows that in his heart-of-hearts, he wouldn't have even considered fighting Wukong had he known about the Stone Egg ahead of time. He ultimately doesnt want to open up any old wounds Wukong has from the incident since he's been living with the outcome of that fight far longer than Mac has.

Bumping around Wukong's memories in S4 really dredges Mac's buried resentment and confusion about the last fight to the surface. Questions like; Why was Wukong protecting the monk that hurt him? Why was Wukong going on this Journey and not returning to his throne? Why did he hide the Stone Egg from the world?

MK is politely trying his best to let Mac vent to him about what happened between him and Wukong, but ofc they quickly stumble into MK's shared history with the Monkey King.

Lots of hugs, peaches, and family counselling is required afterwards, not doubts about that.

[and aww no, no I'm picturing Wukong so in pain from Yuebei's distress that he's basically bedridden. I imagine he'd spend this time resting with Ao Lie until they both recovered (atleast on the surface) while the other pilgrims fuss over both of them.]

Ao Lie and Wukong are quickly panicking over eachother while their other bros are forcing them to rest after the Samadhi Fire Ritual. Wukong was in so much pain that he was convinced that he was going into labor, or that he even lost Yuebei as a result of joining in the Ritual. Eventually though, the Stone Egg calmed down. Ao Lie's pain did not.

[Ne zha can only squawk indignantly when Yuebei manages to get her mouth around one of his rings, immediately trying to pry it from her little jaws. with him and Wukong combined it takes 10 minutes and the promise of a lot of fruit to get her off. luckily the rings aren't perpetually on fire.]

Yuebei mistook the rings as chew toys and liked the shiny gold colour. It takes Nezha a solid minute of apologizing to Wukong for his past behavior to notice that the little monkey cub has clamped her mouth over one of his skates. Wukong is laughing hysterically, especially as Nezha tries his best to gently remove the ring from Yuebei's mouth without activating it. Luckily all it takes to distract the baby is for Experienced Dad™ Pigsy to pull the oldest trick in the book.

Pigsy: "Got your nose, mooncake!" Yuebei, drops ring: :O! Nezha, quickly picks it up: "How did you know to do that?" Pigsy, still holding Yuebei's "nose" as the baby grabs at him: "You'd swear MK was half-garbage disposal from how much stuff he tried to eat as a toddler. Stealing his nose always worked." Wukong, a little wistful: "Tell me more, please?" Pigsy: "Sure thing. Guess little monkeys aren't much different from little MKs." *gives Yuebei her nose back*

Nezha makes note of hiding anything flammable whenever he visits the monkeys.

[Scroll of memory! Ao Lie already broke the mold by interacting with Mei, he breaks it again when MK + Macaque are scroll diving for Wukong by telling him to pass on the message to the king that his stance on the matter hasn't changed.]

Oh gosh... Imagine this though... Wukong trapped in the Scroll, busting on through his memories. Suddenly he hears a familar voice...

Ao Lie: "Wow! She really did make us all wait, huh?" Wukong, frozen in his tracks: "What?" Wukong: (*slowly turns to see the memory of Ao Lie, far older/frailer than what Mei had seen, standing by and watching the memory of Yuebei's first day of life.*) Memory!Ao Lie, smiling: "She's a perfect little pup... Mei was right on the money when she called her a ball of cuteness! She really looks like you! The blue eyes are a little unexpected, but considering that your mate dragged himself out of Diyu to be there - I guess anything could have happened!" Wukong, lip quivering: "No... you're just that memory curse. Ao Lie never got to see her! You're not real!" Memory!Ao Lie, frowning: "Why are you so stubborn to admit that it wasn't your fault? I really truly never blamed you, or her." Wukong, crying: "Why were you so ok with it? Because of me, the Samadhi Fire it... hurt you." Memory!Ao Lie: "I would rather die protecting my family than live and let them be hurt in my stead." (*quietly moves to hug Wukong*) "That includes you and your pup, Wukong. Always has." Wukong: (*now sobbing, hugging Memory!Ao Lie tight*)

Eventually the Memory!Ao Lie has to remind Wukong that he has friends to reunite with in the present. Wukong hesistates to leave Ao Lie alone again - the memory reassures him that he'll be fine as long as his pilgrim brother lives his life without the weight of the Ritual upon his shoulders. And to make sure to spoil Yuebei in his stead.

[Wukong insists it's fine, and that Ne Zha couldn't have known that he kept it from basically everyone, but Ne Zha still feels bad about everything regarding the ritual. he intends to make up for it by doing whatever he can to protect Wukong and his little one now (even if Wukong insists its not nessecary)]

Ofc Nezha feels like garbage for treating Wukong's actions during the Ritual as a failing.

Wukong thinks he has it bad with DBK, PIF, and Pigsy forcing him to rest? Imagine how stubborn Nezha is when he's worried over the Monkey King.

[I love the mental image of Guan Yin using their hundred hands to aid in their righteous beat down] + [she will take this loss with the dignity and grace of the queen (believes she) is and not bother Wukong again (yet) she promises- please don't punch her again.]

Spider Queen isn't sure who she's afraid of more; the spooky ancient bone demon pretending to be a little girl, or the 1000 Armed Bodhisattva that just whooped her hard (but mercifully let her live) for hooking the Monkey King to the power-draining Spider Mech. Spider Queen makes sure not to directly target or interact with the Monkey King or his protege if she can for the rest of S2.

The Spider Gang has nightmares of Guanyin coming to beat the rest of them up like she's a Jojo stand.

[she is very icy! and I'm glad you like the art!]

It's really great art!!

Also LBD's soul probably tasted like shaved ice with a hint of chalk. Lots of it, but pretty bland. It filled up Yuebei at least!

[Macaque is an inconsolable sobbing mess of emotions for a while after first meeting Yuebei, for a lot of reasons. and imagine how hard he cries when Wukong first names her out loud officially calling her "Sun Yuebei Xing" for the first time, Yuebei being a moon inspired/adjacent name. he's practically wailing at one point.]

Aww ohoho! Macaque makes so many joyous squeaking/hooting sounds during Yuebei's arrival. To hear that Wukong has named her his little "Moon Comet Star" just makes him cry harder, especially with how casually Wukong names her. Like he'd had it it long before this moment, before he even knew that Macaque was back in his life.

I think in older Chinese traditions, the parents typically wait for the Man Yue (30 Days) celebration to publically announce the baby's name. But I bet Wukong is just so happy that he tells everyone Yuebei's name long before that time.

Nezha insisted on being at Yuebei's Man Yue to bless her, as that's his whole Patron God of Children thing.

[Wukong laughs at the befuddled chirp Yuebei makes when PIF kisses her. he would also very much welcome MK into his nest with his sleepy little family.]

There's def a bunch of photos of the incident with Yuebei looking at PIF with the most confused doe-eyed look ever, a huge red kiss mark on her head. The Princess looking embarassed and adoring all at once. It's PIF anf DBK's fave baby photo of Yuebei - besides the one where she tried eating Red Son's hair.

MK is very tired after the battle, so the gang has no problem just letting the kid rest in the nest with the monkeys. t

[I love this. He so would. Wukong would be laughing his tail off the first time he hears Macaque voicing a villain with an over exaggerated Peng voice, Wukong actively encourages him to do this as well.]

Heehee, Macaque finally agrees to read Yuebei a kids-friendly version of JTTW at MK's insistence, and when he gets to Camel Ridge, he pauses before looking towards Wukong for confirmation. At Wukong's excited nod, Macaque grins evily.

Macaque, narrating: "In the kingdom of Lion Camel Ridge, there lived three Great Demon Kings." Macaque, exaggerating the real voices: "Azure Lion! Yellow Tusked Elephant! And the Golden-Winged Peng!" Yuebei: *blows raspberry at the villains!* >:P! Macaque, normal voice: "Yeah, boo! These guys sucked!" Wukong: *laughing hysterically!* MK, sitting cross-legged on the floor: "Did they really sound like that?" Wukong, trying hard not to cry from laughter: "It's closer than you think!"

Macaque also deliberately exaggerates the voices of their allies like PIF and DBK so Yuebei doesn't accidentally associate their voices with the muddy past shown in the book.

[I'm now thinking of a scene where yellowtusk manages to get Yuebei away from the others long enough to give her bath, and she's fussy about it but baths with her Baba and Bama in the mountains hot springs were usually fun and calm and she felt better afterwards so she didn't put up much of a fight when Yellowtusk tried to get her into the water. anything that reminded her of her parents is comforting right now. but she's crying the whole time and chirping for her parents as she's very far from home and with no one she recognizes, but this elephant is giving her fruit and cleaning her as best he can, so maybe he's okay? she ends up clinging to his trunk like how'd she would cling around her parents neck, and thats how he got his sore trunk during Yuebei's "tantrum".]

Awwww..... :(

Yellow Tusk brings up the matter shortly after their takeover. Their former ally's cub is very fussy (especially since Azure has had her for about half a day now) and is starting to smell... ripe. Peng takes one sniff and recoils in disgust. Azure is clueless and isn't sure if monkey cubs work like lion cubs or not. Yellow Tusk has the sense to ask the remaining servants for help with tending to the infant - a group of seven brave orchard maidens stepped forward to run the baby a bath and prepare her a meal. Yellow Tusk is sure that he recognises them.

Baby monkeys instinctively cling to whatever is nearby - especially in situations where they feel scared or unsafe. So when the elephant gently put Yuebei in the warm bathwater and offered her mashed fruit, she instinctively clasped around his trunk like it was the arm of her parents, making sad hooing sounds as she sucked on her fingers. Yellow Tusk felt his heart break at the sight. He simply cannot fathom harming her in any sense of the word.

Azure must be mad to think that Sun Wukong won't kill them all to ensure this child's safety.

[kinda sad note on Yuebe missing her parents, but I feel like she'd have seperation anxiety after the s4 debacle. she needs at least one of her parents in the room with her at all times when she's awake or she's wailing at the top of her lungs.]

Absolutely.

Baby monkeys are already super clingy - the trauma of Yuebei's kidnapping during S4 only intensified this. She fears that if either of her parents leave the room, that they might not come back. Considering it was her parents arguing and "something" (aka the Scroll) taking her Baba away preceeded her kidnapping...

The first few times it happens, Wukong and Mac + the extended fam are terrified and aren't sure *why* Yuebei is so distressed. Eventually they figure out it's her anxiety, and are able to at least keep a clone posted to ease the worst of her worries when the others babysit. MK thankfully is one of the figures that Yuebei is calm around, and while she loves her uncles and aunts; Yuebei still starts wailing after a few minutes of realizing that she can't find her Baba or Bama.

It takes a long time for the baby monkey to be comfortable to not have her parents in sight. And considering how worried and overprotective that Wukong and Mac can be of her, they aren't in any rush to force her independance.

[this is amazing Macaque would so let Yuebei keep a "trophy" of her victory over Peng in the form of a baby appropriate toy. he also is def never letting Peng live down that they lost to a baby if they ever meet face to face again. hell, they day he got Yuebei back he was ragging on Peng for their loss before the bird could even be peeled off the ground]

Imagine the smug look on Macaque's face as he sees Peng reduced to a chicken burger on the ground by a *baby* with not even a tooth in her head. Mac would make a show of picking up his baby girl and kissing her all over while commenting in baby-talk; "Did you have fun with the birdy and kitty, moonlight? Yeah? Do you want Bama to take something to remember your little play date?"

And before Peng could make a snarking comment, they squawk! at the feeling of feathers being removed. They look up and see Yuebei playing with a handful of golden feathers. The Shadow Monkey grinning like a cat who's caught a mouse. The celestial bird faints from embarassment.

Macaque has one of the feathers preserved as a bookmark. It brings him great joy.

Again tysm for being so invested in this au!

[balanceoflightanddark]

Can I ask why you think the way Azula treated Zuko was not abusive?

To understand why Azula was not abusive to Zuko, we need to understand what IS abusive. I'm not exactly an expert in the field of abuse as there are many kinds of abuse. However, I do feel that the National Domestic Violence Hotline on their website www.thehotline.org does give us at least a basis to start off with in terms of this kind of abuse that Azula is accused of.

Essentially, if Azula were trying to exert any form of power or control over Zuko, we could consider that to be abusive. She would come from a position of power and use that to browbeat Zuko into submission. Whereas the latter wouldn't be able to do anything about it due to that power dynamic I mentioned. Either that or Zuko wouldn't know it was abuse since it was so engrained in their dynamic.

Thing is...Zuko never shows signs of being abused by Azula.

Whenever Azula mocks him or taunts him, he fires back. He's not afraid to speak his mind. We saw that all the time in "Zuko Alone". Indeed, he doesn't show any signs of being afraid of her or any sign of her exerting any sort of power over him. The closest we came to that was during the bedroom scene where she dangles the possibility of the Avatar over his head, but even that's debatable since he was the crown prince AND barged in with a bad mood already.

So clearly, Zuko didn't feel threatened by Azula at all. And if their dynamic had him fire back at her just as much as she did towards him, how can that be considered abuse?

But what I think is most telling is that we do have an example of abuse in the cartoon. And it does involve Zuko and everything that I just mentioned.

It's just, it wasn't Azula.

It was Ozai.

Putting aside the scar on his face, Zuko's relationship with Ozai DOES reek of abuse. I made a whole post about it, but the point is, Zuko never feels comfortable about speaking out against Ozai or fighting against him. The only time he does is when he has a bit of an advantage, but that was only to escape and not kill.

Zuko will speak out against Azula. But Ozai? No way. He'll take Ozai's comments, and internalize them to make himself feel weak as he does throughout the series. Hell, his rivalry with Azula is Ozai setting them against each other just like any abusive parent would do.

In short, Zuko's dynamic with Azula is the complete opposite of Ozai. And since we know that Ozai is an abusive father, I cannot for the life of me see Azula being at the same level. At worst, she was a symptom of the problem. Not the problem itself. And if you want to address the topic of abuse, you need to get at the source.