#companies abuse the FUCK out of your imagination

[lilgynt]

i will sob my brains out at 5 am remembering events from this year and also christmas last year and being annoyingly petty and unable to let go of relatively small comments just bc i’m sensitive and raw and have a complex

[wraithdance]

Good Boy [part 1/2]

CW: Mentions of canon childhood trauma & abuse, loss of virginity (Simon), using sex as self harm, my man being traumatized and bitch-less, awkwardness, eventual reader mention, lots of internal dialogue I’m setting sumthn up for the next part

Simon is aware he wasn’t pretty or particularly personable. He didn’t ever really need to be.

Even before the scars and the night terrors that kept him up as he meticulously arranged and dismantled his service pistol, he’d never been one to get the girl.

The years spent supporting his mother and saving Tommy’s ass, while also surviving his father’s blows, took up what was a joke of a childhood. There were no movie dates or pretty birds under his arm or texting his phone (not like he had one). Not even the time to wank to whatever model graced the cover of the cheap magazines his mother hid.

He’d lost his virginity in the most clinical way in the back of the butcher shop he’d worked as a teenager. Couldn’t remember the face of the bold older girl that offered to suck his cock when he went on break. Simon had been befuddled that she’d wanted to repay him with a quickie because he’d discounted the cut of meat she’d been sent to pick up for her mother. He’d accepted nonetheless and followed as she lead him to the back of the alley between the shop and laundromat.

Simon had been stiff, unable to enjoy the feeling of her hot, pink glossed mouth taking his prick as far as she could manage. He’d been too preoccupied with the fear of being caught by his boss and the uncomfortable feel of her teeth snagging the sensitive skin of his shaft. He remembered her offense when she’d asked him if she was making him feel good and he’d said no.

At 18 he was still unaccustomed to the concept of lying to spare another’s feelings.

Expecting her to give up he’d tried to thank her (which offended her more) and stuff his cock back into his work jeans. Instead she’d rolled her eyes and lifted her skirt, positioning herself against the brick wall. She’s all but snapped at him to hurry the fuck up and put his cock inside her.

His hands had trembled as he worked himself into her cunt. She’d hissed around the gum in her mouth when he’d pressed the head of his cock past her slick hole, barking that he was too big and to go slow. He tried, the restraint it took to not chance her ire and rut into her like a dog made his teeth crack with how hard he clenched his jaw. She’d yowled like the female cat that made home behind the trash can when it was in heat. He’d nearly slipped out of her afraid he’d hurt her. She’d called him a fucking idiot and demanded he fucked her until she said stopped. So he did.

The force of his orgasm nearly made him black out, through the muffled roar of his blood in his ears, he’d been able to heed her warning to pull out.

He’d been apologetic about the cum that dripped on her open toed shoes. She’d ignored him and scrapped what she could off with a business card he kept in his apron, while he buckled his pants. She’d come inside to grab her parcel of meat and ignored him. His boss had come from the back office and took one look at the retreating girl before shaking his head at Simon.

When he’d joined the military he’d lost what was left of his naivety. There was no room for apologies and mincing words when seeing the life drain from your enemies eyes. For the first time in his life his roughness and straight speech was an asset.

Tactical. Strategic.

Those were the kind of things they said in praise as they pat him on the back.

He’d embraced it, embraced the part of him that would always be his father’s son and he raised hell in honor of his majesty.

He couldn’t look himself in the eyes in the mirror much less imagine the kind of life MacTavish went on about. Always talking about a house in the highlands and a pregnant wife with a barn full of children.

‘Ye can’t tell me ya don’t want the same L.T’

Johnny would say in the dead of night. Always while ‘keeping company’ at Simon’s shoulder while he watched the world through his sniper. Simon’s hands had always sweat beneath his gloves at the talks of imagined lives outside of the shithole safe house they were holed up in. Sometimes he’d grunt noncommittally and Johnny would take the hint and entertain himself with something else. Other times it took a gruff

‘Shut the fuck up MacTavish’

Johnny would be blissfully quiet awhile and the part of Simon that was still his mother’s son would rear his head long enough to transmute a sense of guilt. It was always short lived because Johnny was persistent, forgiving.

He’d bounce back after some time and laugh at whatever joke Simon had in his arsenal in lieu of an apology.

‘It’s alright L.T we’ll find ye a nice Lass to settle down with’ MacTavish’s eyes would sparkle in mischief. Convinced that was the solution to every problem.

Simon thinks about it often when in the bare apartment he calls home when forced on leave. On nights he can’t think of anything but of the echoes of blood and blows across his body, he thinks of what it would be like to have something to come home to. He never gets too far because there’s no frame of reference to use. Just a nameless girl who’d taken his cock in an alley way.

Simon learned that the more he lost himself to the entity that was Ghost the more women gave him the time of day. It was like the self loathing and dark acerbic energy that kept him tethered to the living was a beacon.

The first time it happened he’d made a mousy girl cry. She’d been dared by her friends to approach him at a bar. He’d felt her eyes on him throughout the night, choosing to ignore her. The mask protected him from the itch that came with being perceived in civilian life. He’d been somewhat prepared for her to get the courage to come up to him, having learned that some people were stupid enough to go against their predator/prey instincts. He hadn’t been prepared for the soft hand that trailed across his back to get his attention.

He’d humiliated her. Towered over her and cut her down with words until dark spots danced at the corner of his visions, until she’d burst into sobs. He’d thrown down cash to cover his tab and left. The echoes of her friends calling him a fucking bastard on his heels.

Much like the first time he’d had sex he responded better to blatant requests to be fucked. The requests nearly always when out at drinks with his team. He’d gotten good at recognizing the telltale signs of desperate interest. The glance over of his mates, the dilated pupils as they took in his mask and covered form. On the days he couldn’t be arsed he ignored them. When he needed to feel something other than nothingness he’d meet their eyes. Signal with his head to meet him in the dingy hallway or the back alley.

Always the same as the first time. Spreading their legs against the brick, rutting deep and wasting his spend on the asphalt. With experience he’d learned to grip their necks and maneuver their bodies just so. Overtaking their senses and giving them the fantasy of being just a cunt for him to fuck. In the end he always felt like the one being used.

Sometimes they wanted more from him. A kiss, a call, a second time. He’d occasionally entertained it, the prickling desire to have that dream Johnny painted. It always ended the same. His career kept him away, he was too closed off, the novelty of fucking the guy who scared their friends wore off. And he was left feeling more like a shell.

He stopped recognizing himself in the mirror after a while. A stranger stared back at him with lifeless eyes and a body that belonged to someone else.

The night he met you he’d been unprepared. You’d stared at him like the others. Flickering eyes back and forth taking him in with interest. Gaz and Johnny had noticed and made jokes that set his teeth on edge. He’d told them to piss off.

He caught you staring at him once more, holding your gaze with lidded eyes. You didn’t look away or act coy and embarrassed.

Good.

Subtly he motioned to the bars entrance. You frowned.

He watched you stand up and collect your bags and he took down the rest of his tepid beer. Gaz and Johnny whistled loud and obnoxiously, until Price rallied them in with a half hearted threat.

Simon is making his way through the crowded pub keeping track of your movements. He’s got a cigarette out and lit when you cautiously tip toe out into the night.

He’s watching your nervous shuffling from behind the tendrils of smoke. You seem to make up your mind about something because your shoulders set apart and you straighten your back. Brave little thing.

“Can you model for me-“

“Lift your skirt-”

Your eyes are peeled wide in disbelief. He’s honestly just as confused but hides it with a flick of the cigarette ash.

“Wot?”

“Uh? I asked if you could model for me,” you’re not quite fidgeting but you aren’t really focusing on him. Your eyes are looking just past his shoulder in a facsimile of eye contact. Something about it bothers him.

He flicks the half spent cigarette to the concrete and pulls away from the wall. You don’t step back from his size or flutter your eyes like a pretty bird. You’re taking him in like you’re categorizing him.

“Wots this about modeling? I thought you followed me out to ask for my cock.”

Your nose wrinkles at the crassness.

“No sorry, I thought you just wanted to talk in a quieter area,” you look around at the alleyway for a spell before facing him. “Honestly it seems a bit unsanitary to have sex out here don’t you think?”

He snorts. He’d never heard any objections before. He’d also never had sex in a bed either though.

Simon had long since learned he was good enough to fuck in alleys or cars between shifts. Sometimes couches if he made it across the threshold. Never had any qualms around it until you mentioned it.

It’s a grating thought he doesn’t want to dwell on. He’s turning to leave when you step in front of him with arms raised.

“Wait!” He is glowering down at you unimpressed.

“I’m sorry I really did want to ask you to model for me!” You’re panicking and inching closer to the bar door as if hoping to block his exit with your body. A laughable thought. You must realize it too because your hands drop listlessly to your side.

“Listen, I’m an author and I need someone to pose for a cover mock up for a series.” He scoffs.

“And you thought I’d be a fit?”

“Well yeah!” Your eyes light up in excitement and you ramble out a stream of things he doesn’t quite catch. His focus on the curve of your cheeks and the sense of life you emit. His cock is half chubbed in his pants watching you.

After awhile your rambles trail off and you stare at each other. Realizing he had no plans to respond you sigh in defeat.

“Look take my card,” you’re reaching into your pocket for a wrinkly square. “I’m serious I really do think you’d be a great model for my series and I’d really like to treat you to coffee if you’re willing to hear me out.”

Simon isn’t sure why he takes the card, but he does. He’s looking at the hand doodled picture of a dog and the chicken scrawl beneath the text stating ‘Expert Dog Walker’. He gives you a flat look that causes you to grimace.

“It’s my day job, you know what they say about starving artists and all.” You joke.

He doesn’t laugh.

He instead pockets the thin square and steps around you. You’re on his heels following him inside. He gives you a look as a sign of dismissal that you scoff at but you take the hint.

He watches you leave from the corner of his eye while he settles down at the table with his team.

‘You’re back a little early mate.” Gaz prods.

“The lass dinnae look too happy with your performance LT what did ye do? Do ye need me to tell you how to put it in.” Soap claps a hand over Simon’s shoulder that he shoves off.

Price observes him quietly with arms crossed. Simon doesn’t tell them about your odd little request at all.

He fingers the card in his pocket throughout the night. He looks at your scrawled name as he washes the eye black from his face, your card tucked into the mirror.

He has the number memorized by the time he’s done.

[rene-darling]

Imagine

You take scaramouche in after his battle and travel with him, he complains throughout it all whining about how much he hates this

Spoiler he doesn't but he'll never tell you that he enjoys you or your company..

Him being annoying and always insulting you just to get an reaction. He'll call your food bad irritate you call your fighting sloppy all to here to insult him. Humiliate him

Going away after you do cause he's 'annoyed' only to lock himself in his room and start pleasuring himself

Fingers mindlessly pounding into his sweet hole just remembering your expression...the way you glared at him insulted him oh fuck

He's too far gone now eyes rolling back as he fucks himself desperately onto his fingers cuming again and again

His red hole stretched out and abused he's gasping for air but the more he thinks about it he keeps getting wet again and again

His legs spread wide open his red hole squelching as he gags himself with his own fingers imaging it would be you

Mumbling apologies like you can here them "i-im so-...rry fuck! Mhm-..please"

He's such a whore his slutty hole still wet even after coming again and again he can't help it!

Taking pictures of himself like that all spread out and leaking for you testing the waters by sending you the picture but cutting his face off.

His legs immediately becoming weak and his hole turning wet as he heard you mumble a "fuck..."

So he does it again sending pictures to you every so often his eyes watching as your fingers trace his body on the picture

[readychilledwine]

So I saw a post on Tumblr that read:

“Imagine getting fucked from behind in a broom closet of the house of wind by Rhysand, his fingers in your mouth and his breath against your ear whispering “quiet down pet, you don’t want Feyre to catch us huh?”

And I am so desperate for a fic inspired by this. 👀

I love Feysand so, so much, but the thought of this did something to me.

I love your work so I immediately came to you. If you write it, thank you!!! If not, thank you anyway bc I love all of your work!! Ok byeeeee

.......alright you got me....

Extramarital Escapes

Warnings - smut, affair, slightly dub/con, abuse of power on Rhysand's end

A/n - I don't normally enjoy the idea of an affair and cheating, but I turned this into something I can work with.

This was wrong.

So very wrong.

You gasped as Rhys hit that spot inside of you again, growling as you clenched around him.

This was not what you had in mind when he hired you to be their live-in nanny. It had started innocent enough. Rhys would seek out your company when Feyre would head into Velaris. There were short glances, a soft touch to reach around you at times. Those touches slowly became longer, though. They lingered on your waist, the sides of your thighs, your arms. You had thought you were imagining it until Feyre's first trip out of the Court with Nyx.

"Have a drink with me?" He had stopped you from sorting the heir's clothing, tilting your head up to look at him. "They say you aren't supposed to drink alone, Darling."

You had agreed, following him to the cigar room you knew even Feyre never entered. It was his sanctuary. His place to be alone. She had her studio. He had this.

That one drink turned into him getting closer to you on the couch, cornering you between him and it. He tipped the wine back further as you took a sip, trying to get you to relax with this dangerous look in his eyes.

You were pinned below him an hour later, drunk and begging him to fuck you harder, to let you cum. All while he smiled above you, eyes blown out in lust, saying over and over again that you felt exactly like he imagined.

You had told him the next morning it was a one-time thing, that it would never happen again, regardless of if you wanted it to happen. The High Lord simply smirked, undressing you with his eyes all over again. "We will see."

He cornered and took you anytime he wanted after that.

On his desk after Feyre would fall asleep.

On the table when she was out of the house and Nyx was down for a nap.

In your room during the dead of night when he decided his wife wouldn't satisfy his need to feel complete control and power over someone.

You had told him this morning that you were done. If he continued to touch you after this, you would tell Azriel, Cassian, or Feyre, believing one of them would protect you from him.

You loved Nyx and he was why you had put up with being Rhysand's whore for so long, but you needed it to end. You needed the guilt to stop eating you alive at night. You knew you were worth more, are worth more.

Rhysand had again smiled. "You love your job, don't you, y/n?" You nodded, eyes watering. "And in your contract, it is stated your job is to ensure the happiness of my family, correct?" You nodding again. "Then I suppose if you are not willing to fulfill that obligation, I should find a new nanny."

He knew he had you as you took a shaky breath, tears rolling down your face at the idea of never seeing his son again. "I'd hate to take him away from you. He loves you so much, and it is so very clear you love him."

"Rhys, please," you felt him pull you to him, slotting you between his legs as he sat on his desk. "I just can't keep being a mated males whore."

His face softened, hand moving to hold your chin. "You are not my whore. You are my escape. If you do not want that, if you do not want to be loved by me, then we have so few options."

You looked up and away from him. "I just want to take care of Nyx. Like I was hired to do."

"Then you do so on my conditions."

That was how you found yourself, chest pressed against the wall in an unused broom closet. The High Lord pounding you from behind, his fingers down your waiting throat to silence your cries.

You felt your eyes roll back, moaning loudly as you sucked those digits. His other hand was on your clit, circling the bundle of nerves in time with each heavy drag of his cock. "Shush," he growled in your ear. "Gotta be quiet, darling. You wouldn't want Feyre to catch us, would you?" He nipped your pointed ear, causing your walls to twitch around him. "Acting like you don't love my cock inside of you this morning, but now here we are. Sure, it feels like you love it when I'm inside of you. Don't you?"

You could only nod, eyes squeezing shut and moaning more as his hips met the plush skin of your ass over and over, driving into you again and again.

You could feel your orgasm building waiting for him to give the command to let go, and suddenly, he stopped. Pulling out of you and slapping your aching cunt. "This is your punishment for trying to end things with me," he whispered into your ear. "If you're a good girl the rest of the day, maybe I will let you cum tonight when she goes to Rita's with the girls."

He left you there, wet and aching for him in that broomcloset. You sunk down the wall, head falling to your knees.

A few hours later, you had finally gotten Nyx down for the night. You sighed, heading to Rhysand's office to let him know the heir was sleeping, that you would tend to him during the night since Feyre was gone, but two hushed voices had you stopping.

"You have to tell her," a feminine voice stated. "I don't want her to quit over this. Nyx loves her, Rhys."

"I know," Rhysand's voice was barely audible. "She tried today. I had to manipulate her into staying before I fucked her in the broom closet. You were supposed to catch us and join us."

You covered your mouth, hiding the gasp you made before standing silently. Feyre sighed on the other side of the door, "I got busy. Azriel had reports, and he was looking for you. I had to lie to him, Rhys. I don't want to keep lying to our family about her and what she is to us."

"Then let's replan it for next week. Since you are supposed to be out of the house. I wanted to give her the weekend off. I'm scared if I do now, she won't come back."

You walked away, having heard enough information, yet not enough all at the same time.

You could not tell if you were angry, excited, curious. You went to your room, closing and locking the door.

As you bathed, the side of you that hated games began to emerge, and you began a plan of your own. In that moment, you decided one thing, if Rhysand and Feyre wanted to play, you'd play too.

General tag list:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager

Rhys tag list:

@tothestarsandwhateverend

💜 If you would like to be added to my general taglist, or a character specific one, let me know 💜

[whatswrongwithblue]

Girl Talk

Part Two of my Imagines with Angel Dust.

“So Alastor, he’s like all . . .” Angel Dust made strange gestures with his hands above his head, his thumbs pressed to his hair and fingers splayed out, and you were fairly certain he was trying to mimic antlers growing. “. . . murder-y and shit right? Even if he’s at the hotel, you can’t expect us to believe he’s stopped doing all that.”

It was late at night and you and Angel were at the bar, keeping Husk company, and nursing a couple of cocktails.

Alastor had disappeared hours ago, which wasn’t unusual, but it was getting late. You weren’t letting yourself be worried just yet, he was the Radio Demon after all, and could certainly take care of himself. But you couldn’t help being a little on edge. Alastor always came home but still. He could give you an idea of where he had gone off to and what he was doing when he took off like this.

“Why, are you going to tattle to Charlie if I say he is?” you said, a little too defensively.

“Hey, I ain’t no rat,” Angel said, also defensive. “I’m just trying to figure the guy out.”

“He’s still the Radio Demon,” you respond vaguely.

“Oh well that tells me everything.” Angel rolled his eyes.

Husk chuckled, wiping a glass dry.  

“He’s a serial killer and a cannibal. The day that guy stops doing all that is the day I’ll stop drinking and gambling.”

You scowl over the rim of your cocktail.

“You make him sound like a monster when you say it like that.”

Husk raised an eyebrow at you.

“Excuse me if I ain’t your boytoy’s number one fan. ‘Sides, not like anything I said wasn’t true.”

“Hey, he’s not out their killing all willy nilly, right?” Angel offered. “I mean, I pissed him off the other day and he let me go. Val woulda done way worse. So that means he’s got a type, I’m assuming? Like a uh . . . a demographic . . . of people he kills. If you ain’t that, he’ll still be creepy and fucking weird, but you’re probably safe.”

“Probably,” you smirk.

“Whatever,” Husk said with a grumble, and threw his towel over his shoulder, turning his back on the two of you.

“So, about those tentacles-“

“No,” you snapped, cutting off Angel’s sentence before it could be finished.

“Oh come on! You can’t leave me hanging like that!”

You just rolled your eyes and sighed, taking another sip of your drink.

“Oh . . . hanging, now there’s a thought,” Angel pressed on. “So suspensory play, huh? I bet those are really fun for that. Just how talented is the guy with those things? Because I bet with some practice, you could even use them for some interesting kind of Shibari. Or is he unimaginative and just shoves them right up your-“

“Angel, seriously, did you not learn your lesson last time?”

“Oh I learned my lesson all right. I learned how hot it is. So c’mon, admit it,” he teased, leaning closer to you, “you guys are into bondage.”

You laughed, unable to hide the sly smile on your face, but said nothing.

“I guess it makes sense,” Angel continued, “the guy does own souls. He’s probably gotta have that type of control in the bedroom.”

“You just go ahead and let your imagination run wild, my friend,” you said with a giggle.

“Baby, my imagination can run marathons,” Angel bragged. Then suddenly, he turned serious and looked over at you. “Wait, does he own your soul?”

Husk turned around and both men were now looking at you. Knowing both of their predicaments, you almost felt bad for your answer.

“No,” you said quietly.

“NO?!” Angel yelled, slapping his hand down on the bar counter.

‘No,” you repeated.

“But . . . but, that’s what he does. I mean, he even owns Niffty’s soul. So why are you with him-“

“Angel,” you interrupted, putting your hand on his arm. “I’m with him because I love him. Because I choose to be.” You said your words firmly, making sure your point was crystal clear. “And anyway, Alastor’s not the type to sleep with a soul he owns. It’s hard to explain his twisted moral code but he would think that was rude . . . or abusive . . . or just trashy. No offense.”

You knew about Angel’s forced and strained deal with Valentino and felt awkward, exposing the stark differences between your relationship and theirs.

“If I was making him sound like a monster, you’re making him sound like a fucking angel,” Husk said.

“Fair,” you agreed. “So, he’s complicated. But so am I.”

“So you really are into monster fucking. Got it,” Angel said, sounding deadly serious but when you looked at him, you saw the hint of a smile beginning to spread across his face.

“Wellllll,” you said, drawing out the word and giving Angel a side eye, “sometimes he has to blow off some steam. And those antlers are great for holding onto for balance.”

Angel choked on the drink he was taking a sip from.

“Now we’re talking,” Angel replied, eagerly leaning towards you again.

You held up a finger, stopping Angel from invading your space anymore. “That’s more than enough information for now.”

“Let me get this straight. He’s got the tentacles, he’s got the antlers,” Angel listed, holding up a finger for each item on his list. He held up a third finger, looking at you and tilting his head expectantly. “Say, you ever have a threesome with his shadow?”

You felt your face heating up, desperately trying to keep your composure and think of a witty response that wouldn’t give anything more away than your expression was, when thankfully you were saved by the front doors of the hotel slamming open.

Alastor walked in, his usual confident walk more of an exhausted shuffle, and he was covered head to toe in blood and the occasional clump or string of viscera.

“Holy shit buddy,” Angel exclaimed, “looks like you bit off more than you can chew.”

“I’m fine,” Alastor huffed and waved his hand dismissively. “Splendid, really. Just need some cleaning up.”

“Do you need any help?” you asked, sounding more flirty than concerned.

“Down girl,” Alastor replied and tapped you on the head with his microphone as he strode past you. “I’ll see you all in the morning.”

He evaporated into shadow as he reached the staircase.

“If he could just do that, then why’d he have to make a show of walking through the front doors?” Angel complained, “He left bloody footprints all over the lobby!”

“That’s Al’ for you,” Husk said, “Always gotta be dramatic.”

You sat in silence, ignoring the two men’s banter and you gripped the glass of your cocktail, staring at it as if it had your entire focus.

A few moments went by where no one said anything and the lull in conversation became awkward.

“You don’t have to stay down here, you know,” Angel offered. “I can tell you want to go sexually attack him.”

You nodded. “I need to go lick every inch of that man clean,” you said and headed upstairs.

Part 3

[rottiens]

i... i'm sorry....

i'm thinking about an older stepbro!Megumi now (or stepdad dealer's choice lol)... like maybe a 20-25yo reader w 30-35yo Megumi who's desperately trying not to follow in his father's footsteps. but we all know the fushiguro bloodline is slutty as hell...

you're his stepsis. of course you're off limits. you're cute, maybe even his type if he's willing to admit it, but you're off limits. plus with the age difference, y'know, it'd be kinda weird and fucked up. but still you're so cute he can't handle it sometimes. but of course these feelings get bottled up and he's generally pretty normal. maybe quiet and reserved if anything but the two of you do get along pretty well.

maybe it's weird for you to hang out with a guy so much older than you but you enjoy his company and even just hanging out and playing video games with him at his apartment is fun. plus, he lives closer to the city than your parents so when you go out late with your friends, you can crash on his couch. you feel safe with him.

it was after one of these late nights with your friends you stumble back to his apartment. he's usually up late playing video games, so you just start babbling and telling him about your evening. you flop down on the couch with your head on his lap. he'd push you off but you're drunk and tired and you kinda just fall asleep after a couple of minutes.

you're snoring a little, mouth open, nearly drooling on his cock. he's frozen in place, eyes flitting across the exposed skin from your skimpy outfit. his hand accidentally brushes against you as he pulls a blanket over you, but you don't stir. his game is entirely forgotten as his fingers slide under the blanket, following the contours of your curves.

you snore again, snapping him out of whatever lustful haze had him touching you like this. he wasn't like his father. you were off limits. you trusted him and he wouldn't abuse that trust. still, the annoying snoring had to stop.

"shut up, stupid." he mumbled with a soft smile, sticking his fingers in your mouth. he didn't expect your lips to wrap around them, lazily sucking with a soft moan. his cock twitched against the side of your face. he wasn't like his father, he repeated to himself as he wondered if you'd suck anything he put in your mouth right now...

35 years old megumi immediately gives me a boner. sorry but imagining him as muscular, a bit more grown up and bigger, with a pronounced jaw and more like his father makes me drool a little bit.

you're so evil for that ending. and i think megumi wouldn't do it, not because he doesn't want to, but because his desire to prove to himself that he is not his father's equal is much stronger than the erection he has right now. yeah, he plays a little with your tongue, yeah he lets you suck them a little while he wonders what is going on in his head but gets them out of you before he can do something he will regret.

he gets up from the couch and goes straight to the bathroom. he closes the door with a bang and locks it. and with the same hand full of your saliva he wraps it around his cock and jerks himself off under the cold shower water.

[maladaptiveobsession]

yandere valentino x reader x angel dust

contains: reader w/unspecified genitals, gn reader, nsfw themes, noncon/dubcon, dehumanization, degradation, heavy abuse (brief mentions of physical violence, manipulation, sexual exploitation), dacryphilia, overstimulation

word count: 2,160

It’s not unusual for sinners to throw themselves at Valentino’s feet, but it is the first time the red skies of hell have thrown one directly onto him. The impact sends you both to the ground, collapsing in a startled heap.

He scrambles to throw you off, having every intention to rip you to scraps. Upon lifting your head, he suddenly has grander schemes in mind. His towering figure and lascivious grin send shivers down your spine.

“My, what lovely specimen do we have here? How kind of heaven to send a beauty like yourself directly to me.” His flirtations send blood rushing to your head, making your face grow warmer. You shyly break eye contact, swiveling your head to get a look around. Where is this place?

Valentino must notice your growing confusion and distress, interrupting your thoughts with a low chuckle.

“Welcome to hell, dollface.” Oh, you must be dead. You never thought you were perfect, but you never could’ve imagined you’d go to hell! Where did you go wrong? Suddenly thrust into hell with murderers, rapists, and monsters alike, you wondered if you could die twice.

“Don’t look so down, baby; you’re in luck! There’s no better demon you could’ve crashed into.” He goes on to introduce himself as a powerful overlord with a well-known and successful business.

“I’m feeling awfully generous right now. Why don’t you come work for me? I know just where to put you! You’ll fit right in! I’m sure my patrons will love you too.” He pauses to let you digest the information. “As my employee, you’d be provided housing. I could easily protect you from the creeps and losers on this side of hell. I’ll even forgive you for dirtying my coat! Sounds like a steal, right?”

He takes a long drag from a cigar that you're not sure where came from, then whips out a contract and pen.

“So, how about it, baby?”

Stranded in an unfamiliar place, you easily accept his kindness. As you take hold of the pen, something about his grin makes you uneasy.

If only you read the fine print. So began your life of torment.

What Valentino neglected to mention was that the “successful business” he ran was a porn studio. You spent hours doing photoshoots, films, and shows. Like Valentino suggested, you became his star attraction—the shy and delicate pornstar all of hell’s degenerates thirsted for. Yet they would never get a taste. Valentino didn’t share his personal toys. 

Inexplicably, he couldn’t get enough of you. He wanted to own you the moment he saw your pretty face, drawn to the light in your eyes.

Even with your skin bruised by his fingers and your throat sore from careless treatment, you still desired his rough affection. You didn’t mind that he left you battered each night or his harsh comments when you couldn’t keep up with his demands.

You could even forgive him for cruelly allowing his customers to take advantage of you and fuck you back into submission.

“I said I could protect you; I never said I would. Perhaps you’ll think twice before disobeying in the future.”

You would do anything if it meant receiving his violent devotion.

Being the personal toy of an egomaniacal moth could never be easy, but at least you weren’t alone. You had befriended none other than Valentino’s former favored pornstar, Angel Dust. Despite your differences in character, your shared experiences created a bond neither of you could find anywhere else. Misery always finds company.

Angel felt conflicted upon meeting you. That bastard had finally found a new toy to replace him! His joy only lasted until he heard your voice, so soft and sweet.

Valentino would break you.

Angel dreamed of the day Valentino would grow bored of him and find a new toy to play with. Now that that dream was a reality, he couldn’t push down the guilt. Shouldn’t he feel happy?

There was nothing Angel could do to protect you, but he could give you advice on how to protect yourself.

“Just do what he says. The consequences aren’t worth going against his word.”

He hadn’t planned on getting so close to you; he had tried to scare you off with cruelties, but you never minded. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t shake you. He tried to keep his distance and went out of his way to avoid you. You must have taken the hint and stopped bothering him like he’d wanted.

He didn’t owe you anything, so why did your absence make him feel worse? Why did he feel like something was missing?

Angel found his answers not long after.

He'd followed the muffled sound of choked sobs to your studio, pausing outside the cracked door. Against his better judgment, he peeked inside.

He’s met with the sight of you huddled in your vanity seat, knees raised to your chest, and your face buried in your arms.

“Doll?”

You raise your head at the sound of Angel’s voice, rushing to wipe away tears. You greet him with the best smile you can manage.

How miserable you must look to him, with smudged mascara and puffy eyes.

“I’m sorry for bothering you so often, Angie.” With how hoarse your voice is, he suspects you’ve been crying for a while. “I didn’t mean to overstep. I just felt so alone, you know?”

He does. He knows better than anyone.

It suddenly occurs to him how much of an asshole he’s been. You didn’t deserve the shit he’s been giving you.

He'd put up walls ever since he signed away his freedom; he couldn’t trust anybody. He thought nobody could understand what kind of shit he’s been through, but then you came along. You do understand because you’re going through it.

You’re all each other has.

“Don’t cry for the bastard. He doesn’t deserve your tears.” You look like you’re about to apologize again, but he continues. “Listen, I’m sorry for being such a douchebag lately. You didn’t do nothing wrong. We’ve only got each other in this shithole.”

You smile brightly, unsure what caused the sudden change in attitude, but happy nonetheless. “Right, together, we’re not alone.”

So began your unlikely friendship.

Unfortunately, Valentino wasn’t nearly as enthused. His obsession grew to new heights when you befriended Angel Dust. This manifested itself in the form of longer studio hours and even rougher sex.

Seeing you get along on set made his blood boil. The final straw was the stupid grin you sent Angel’s way. How dare you flirt with that slut! How dare he grin back!

You both clearly needed to be reminded of your status. Since you liked each other so much, he would be happy to give his blessings. Why, he’d personally see to your union.

Later that evening, you found yourself back on set, blindfolded and gagged. The cold nipped at your bare skin. Valentino kept the studios cold to keep your nipples perked. The handcuffs keeping your hands pinned to the bed post provided little comfort.

The sound of the film crew setting up around you sent heat to your sex. You couldn’t swallow the feeling of disgust residing in your throat; how could you enjoy this? Even amongst the buzz of conversations, you could easily pick out the click of Valentino’s healed boots. You wait for the familiar call to begin filming, yet you do not find it.

It’s only when a pair of hands, strangely familiar, find their way to your chest that you realize the set began. The whole situation strikes you as strange, but what could you do anyhow? Nothing would change the outcome. In the end, all you’d receive for your curiosity would be a nasty bruise.

So you brush off your worries and focus on the sensation of soft hands groping at your chest, teasing your nipples. You can’t help but lean into their gentle touches; the familiarity comforting.

The way they glide across your skin—as if searching—you wonder if they’re blindfolded too. Shivers run across your spine as they spread your legs, the cool air kissing your core. The bed shifts as your film partner settles between your thighs, their hands never leaving you.

Fingers prod at your entrance, sinking in easily. Your head spins at the sudden intrusion. As they finger and stretch your hole, you struggle to maintain composure. Each motion was intentional and practiced. You could feel the slick gather below you in a thick puddle. Somehow, they knew how to work you just right.

Droplets of pre-cum smeared against your skin as their cock brushed up against your thigh.

Unable to wait any longer, you tried lifting your hips away from their fingers. You wanted more; you wanted to be filled.

Your desire clouded any creeping shame or embarrassment. You never wanted this; why shouldn’t you enjoy the pleasure being given?

The hand lingering on your hip stills you with surprising strength; another set of hands you didn’t know they had pushes your thighs up to your chest. Desire clouds your thoughts, never once questioning the owner of said hands.

They guide their cock to your entrance, driving it in without warning—the sudden stretch takes your breath away. Though easier to accommodate than Valentino’s, you still find yourself pushed past your limits.

Little time is given to adjust; their pace is rough but controlled. Waves of pleasure burn through you. 

Your moans and pleas are swallowed up by the gag. Tears of pleasure and pain gather in your eyes, darkening the fabric of your blindfold. It hurts so good; the intensity building in your core threatens to snap. A particularly rough thrust sends powerful shockwaves throughout your body.

They shudder against you, their pace stuttering for only a brief moment. They were too busy changing their own bliss. You writhe against your binds as the heat within tightens once more, all too soon. Your pleas for clemency are muffled.

Valentino watches with great interest, languidly stroking his own length as you're brought back to the edge of pleasure. You were so sensitive and expressive.

His favorite slut being forced to use his personal toy wasn’t a sight he thought he’d enjoy. He’d initially been reluctant, only convinced by the masses demanding your collaboration.

Now he couldn’t wait for the reveal—to see the despair of fucking your only friend. Commanding his toys to fuck like dolls was fun; maybe he’d do it again some time.

He watched closely as Angel’s hips stuttered, pace becoming erratic, and fingers pressing deep into your thighs. The heat of his climax sends you over the edge. With your ears ringing and your heart pounding, you feel dizzy. Darkness swallows up your vision.

Valentino makes note of your limpness, suddenly struck by an idea. He strides over to Angel, leaning down to whisper in his ear.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice you flirting with my toy?” He didn’t miss the way Angel tenses. “Well, I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Wasting no time, he wrenched the blindfold off.

Angel’s reaction is more than he’d hoped for. Horror and disgust flash in his eyes as he scrambles to pull out of you. He tumbled off the bed in his urgency and crumpled at Val’s feet in despair.

Angel can feel his stomach in his throat, panis rising.

“Aw, did you not like my gift?” Valentino mocks him, relishing in the pitiful display. “Well, too bad. Pick yourself up and get ready to do it again.”

For a moment, Angel is unresponsive. He has to do that all over again? He has to violate you? He can’t do that to you; it would break you.

Buzzing under the thick layer of disgust creeps darker desires: to touch and tease your skin, to sink into your warmth. To do it all over again.

He doesn't notice the way his dick responds, but Valentino certainly does. How unexpected!

“Holy shit, are you hard again? Does the thought of raping your friend turn you on that much? I wonder what your friend will think?” He can taste your fear and anguish already. “Let’s not waste any time, then.”

Angel's fear is palpable and thick. He doesn’t want to lose you. When you open your eyes, the little sanctuary you've built together will never be the same.

You should feel something, but you can only feel empty as your only friend splits you open against both of your wills. Averting his eyes, he rocks into you. Valentino’s voice hardly registers at all. 

“Don’t act so shy, Angelcakes. Go on, fuck them with your eyes like you usually do. If I don’t see some eye contact, there will be consequences for your dearest friend.”

With your eyes connected, you can’t pretend anymore. This is happening. This is real. 

You only have each other, but together you created a nightmare you can’t escape. At least you’re not alone—closer than you’ve ever been.

[lizardaggro]

on the flip side (twst bully!au) part 2

the first part is doing way better than i thought it would, so here's part 2! please note that i won't normally put stuff out this fast, but i got woken up by tumblr notifs and only got 2.5 hrs of sleep. if this is trash, that's my excuse. also working on something for bnha, but that sucker's looong.

part 1 part 3

genre: gn reader, angst trigger warnings: bullying, lil bit of yandere word count: 1082

The look on their faces was hilarious, to say the least. Adeuce were in shock, and Floyd looked like a kicked puppy. Not that you made a habit of that. It was a shame that you couldn’t hole up in here a little while longer, and you knew the door would take ages to get repaired, but it would be fine. The sudden shift in your attitude would still be jarring.

“Wha- prefect, what’re you talking about?” Ace asked incredulously. Deuce nodded vigorously in agreement. The two had been your first friends in Twisted Wonderland, after Grim of course, and then the first to turn on you once they got bored. You supposed it was just too much for their pea brains to bear.

“Did I stutter?” Your gaze was cold as you looked both in the eye in turn. “Every day, the poor defenseless prefect is beaten, abused, and scorned. And all for what? Your entertainment? You lot are sick in the head and it shows,” you berated them mercilessly. It’s not like you expected them to have a sudden change of heart. You wouldn’t forgive them even if they did.

Floyd had been silent since demolishing your poor door, which could be good or bad. You’d always found him hard to read. His mood could change at the drop of a hat, and you knew you weren’t his only victim. For all you knew, he’d start whaling on Adeuce instead.

And then he just had to go and open his mouth. “Aww, that’s cute, Shrimpy. You think you can get rid of me?” He taunted. Now that was a threat, and you knew it. Still, you never thought any of your former friends would describe anything you did as cute now. It was meant to be mocking, but still. Something about his demeanor was off. He seemed almost… hurt.

Nah, there was no way. You must be imagining things. There was no way Floyd Leech, of all people, enjoyed your company. You were alone here; Grim and the ghosts were your only allies. You shook your head to clear away the unwanted thoughts.

You turned to face Floyd, a sinister grin working its way onto your face. “Oh, whyever would I want to do that? I can do so much better, after all. I mean, who’s the one who told me all their dirty little secrets they’d never want to see the light of day, back when we were friends? Because of course the innocent little prefect would never dream of snitching!”

You weren’t bluffing. You didn’t have to. It was true, after all. Each and every one of them had confided in you to some extent, the Overblot victims most of all. You knew e~verything that ailed them, and it would be oh-so unfortunate if their less-than-kind peers were to find out. It wasn’t like you wanted to play the villain card, but you felt you had the right. They’d already betrayed you, so why shouldn’t you return the favor?

The three boys’ faces visibly paled after hearing your words. Everyone had something to hide after all, and they were no exception. Deuce had been one of the first to trust you with his secrets, as well as one of the most forthcoming. Back then you’d thought he was such a sweetheart; you never would’ve dreamed it’d come to this.

“Come on, surely you don’t mean that?” He begged. It was pitiful, really.

“Oh, I absolutely mean it if you don’t leave me the fuck alone.” No one at Night Raven College had ever heard you curse before, so it must’ve been a shock. Your voice was cold as you crushed their hope. No one had ever listened to you when you pleaded for them to please stop hurting you.

Once convinced that you really meant business, they promptly turned tail and fled. You didn’t blame them. You’d be embarrassed too if you still slept with a teddy bear. But this was good- great, even. Now you had the chance to put the next phase of your plan in action.

You’d start off simple, with a warning, in case someone didn’t think you were serious enough. You logged onto the school’s messaging forum, and anonymously exposed some poor random guy whose name you’d forgotten’s crush. Who also attended NRC, of course. It wouldn’t be much of a threat if no one knew who they were.

Not long after, there was a rapt knock on your door, or rather the adjacent wall. Thanks, Floyd. When you headed downstairs to greet your unwanted guest, you were mildly surprised to see Riddle Rosehearts, there in all his glory.

“Riddle? What brings you here? Are you going to blame me for not knowing the history of countries I’d never heard of until this year again?” You jabbed. Riddle was never one for physical violence; his Unique Magic didn’t work on you since you had none to begin with. Instead, he chose to belittle you for your lack of knowledge.

“I heard from Ace and Deuce that you’ve been airing students’ dirty laundry on the internet,” he said with a stern look. “I’m sure you’re well aware that this behavior is unacceptable.” Two could play at that game.

“Yes, Dorm Leader Rosehearts, and I’m sure you know full well that several of your students are guilty of assault,” you rebutted, using his position within the school for emphasis. “So tell me, do you really want to go there? After all, it’d be a real shame if your mother were to hear about this.”

You really hoped his mother never heard about this. Him being abused would only make you feel worse, and it certainly wouldn’t correct his behavior. The most you’d do was “accidentally” let the whole school find out he’s secretly a crybaby.

Riddle’s face grew as red as Unbirthday party roses. “You dare to threaten me?! I’d have your head if you had any magic worth sealing! But you don’t, so you’re lucky I even bother to tolerate your presence. I don’t even want to think about what your grades would look like if it wasn’t for my help.”

You really didn’t think shouting at you qualified as helping. But once again, there was that odd tone to his words, like he was implying that he wanted you around. There was no way Riddle of all people would agree to play some elaborate prank on you, so just what was going on?

[bloodiedrogue]

I'M STARVING, DARLING (8)

SUMMARY: For the first time in a long time, you and Astarion find yourself experiencing a sense of normalcy through the chaos.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader

WORD COUNT: 3,346

WARNINGS: Sexual tension (there always is with these two, whoops), a bit of bloodsucking, mentions of past abuse, angst if you squint.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry this took so long! I'm back from vacay at work and died for four days straight but now we're back! Sort of!

Updates from now on might not be as frequent but I'm going to try and post weekly; maybe on Saturdays?

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER

-

 “Don’t you dare.”

At this point, you’ve been lying there for what feels like hours, locked inside his arms —unable to bring yourself to move thanks to the comfort you feel surrounding your frame. A comfort you haven’t felt in a long time as you listen to the raspy way his voice tickles your neck, prompting you to sigh and give in, knowing that resistance is futile.

“They’re going to kill us, you know.” 

Shifting awkwardly to face him, you try not to smile when he peaks one eye open, quickly closing it when he catches your own. “I’d like to see them try considering I’m already dead.”

“Yes, well I’m not.”

He huffs, clutching you further into his chest. “And that’s my problem?”

Rolling your eyes, you playfully smack his face before wriggling from his grasp, moving to sit upright with a groan. As you do, you quickly remember the events of last night and slowly roll your bare shoulders, feeling them click in and out of place before you raise your arms to the sky with a yawn. 

Despite your better judgement, you stayed up far too late, enjoying the ever-growing intimacy the night had to offer. All of the lingering touches and longing gazes mixed between small bouts of passion and a rather lengthy dip in the tub were nothing short of worth it. In fact, if you were honest, it was better than anything you could’ve imagined. A proper break from the chaos you’d been unwillingly thrust into as of late.

You knew because of that it’d be hard to wake up. To let your mind move from fantasy to reality as the sun hit your face and the reminder of the oncoming doom filtered through your tired mind.

What you weren’t prepared for however was Astarion’s lack of restraint as his curious fingers begin to slip across your back. Carefully drawing up and down your spine, his fingers move in delicate motions, sending an onslaught of shivers down your spine that have him chuckling under his breath, shuffling closer toward your frame. 

“If you told me last night I’d be enjoying such a delicious view…”

When you turn to give him a narrow-eyed look he trails off, looking at you with feigned innocence as he kisses your shoulder blade, allowing his lips to linger as you stare him down. 

“You’re lucky you're cute.” 

“And you’re lucky my blade’s still attached to my clothes. Otherwise it’d be at your throat threatening you back to bed.” 

“Kinky.” 

Immediately he snorts, pressing his forehead against your back. “For fuck sakes— come back to bed, please. I won’t ask you again.” 

Biting your lip, you look around the room for a moment, picking apart the disaster of discarded clothes and muddied floors mixed between half-opened packs of supplies. Somehow despite the disarray of it all you still manage to smile as you crane your neck back, knowing that you should get up but ultimately give in to temptation, shuffling around Astarion’s frame to rest your head back on your pillow. 

“Fine. You win.”

“Win?” He slips effortlessly into your side, leaning over to place a chaste kiss to your cheek before tracing the edge of your jaw with his finger. “And what pray tell is my prize?” 

“My company.”

He scrunches up his face in false disgust, softly taking hold of your chin. “I was hoping for something a bit more exciting.”

It’s apparent then that he’s looking for a repeat of the hours prior. More moments of shared ecstasy before the inevitable shift in focus occurs and you’re most likely left wanting for another few weeks.

It’s tempting for sure. Especially when he slips a leg between your own, gently pushing his thigh against that spot that has you swallowing hard as you close your eyes. 

“You and I both know—“

He cuts you off with a long kiss. One that’s devoid of anything other than the hunger of a starved man, reaching for that initial bite. It’s all tooth and tongue —a mess of movements that have him shifting upright to straddle your leg, breathing hard against your open mouth as he slots his teeth against your lower lip, making you groan.

“Sorry darling, what were you saying?” His grin is wicked when he pulls away, using the moment of dazed confusion to stroke your cheek as you open your mouth to speak. When nothing comes out he merely chuckles and places a much softer kiss in the same spot, resting against you for a second or two before pulling away. 

“You’re awful.”

“And you’re easy,” he muses, moving his thigh against you. “Desperate even.”

Immediately, there’s a part of you that wants to argue that the feeling of your legs suddenly tightening around his own as your breath begins to falter isn’t the result of your desperation, but his. That you’re merely just a victim to his charms like always. However, the bigger part of you knows he’ll probably make you feel otherwise. More than likely, he’ll retort with something far too clever and make you second-guess your words.

So instead, you merely give in to his claims, humming quietly as he explores your frame, quickly laying waste to your neck with an open-mouthed kiss that makes you crave that feeling again. The cold nothingness brought on by his teeth latching against you.

Despite its somewhat violent cause, you still long to remember the feeling. The incomparable bliss of that icy jolt before total numbness occurs, leaving you lightheaded and empty. Suddenly, it takes over your mind, flashing amongst the current movements of his mouth trailing down your torso.

All of it’s enough to say his name. Quietly through the haze of desire, you feel him pause and look up, raising a brow at your heavy chest as you cup his cheek. “Are you hungry?”

He looks at you confused. “If this is some sneaky way of trying to get out of bed, I can assure you—“

“No.” You shake your head, moving it slightly to the side to showcase your throat. “Are you hungry?”

For a moment there’s an undeniable tension that grows. Festering amongst naked skin and scratchy sheets, it builds by the second, making your chest ache with the kind of nervous anticipation that has you wondering if maybe you shouldn’t have spoke. 

He may be a vampire but thus far he’s managed to keep himself from feeding on you since that first time. Something you were both surprised and disappointed by, considering you had expected him to ask for more. Especially after the reaction of his previous feed. It was obvious that it was enjoyable. A moment of pure decadence that left him wanting more despite the consequences.

“Wait a minute, am I dreaming?”

His face is suddenly inches from yours, his breath wafting against your face through a grin that makes you chuckle. “No.”

 “Are you sure? Because I’m sure I’ve dreamt of this exact scenario once or twice.” 

“Have you now?” 

He hums with a nod, leaning forward to kiss your cheek. “Yes. However, the only difference is that I was in a castle and Cazador’s head was on a stick in the corner.” 

You snort and wrap your arms around his head, pulling him closer. “Sorry to disappoint. Hopefully you can consider my offer the next best thing?”

“I suppose. But only because you were my first.”

First?

Immediately, you wonder if it’s a slip of the tongue —another one of his flirtatious lies sent to woo despite already having you. Given the nature of his past, it wouldn’t be all that surprising. Considering his role under Cazador’s thumb was to charm and lure, you know that lies like this are still second nature. A mechanism of lust ingrained into his psyche. 

Plus, it’s not like it’s possible for you to actually be his first. Having spent most of his time in spaces like this, a bit of bloodletting was bound to happen at some point. It was inevitable really when you think of Astarion’s voice and face and overall ability to manipulate. 

Surely it’d be hard to resist. But then it dawns on you —the severity of his abuse. The tightened leash so carefully tied around his neck for hundreds of years. There’s no way Cazador would’ve allowed him such pleasantries. Despite his efforts —despite the countless opportunities to take his fill, it quickly becomes apparent that he wouldn’t. 

Because he couldn’t. 

Because despite the allowance to explore the city, he was still considering nothing.

It makes your heart simultaneously skip and break, watching the sudden nervousness that clouds his features. The way his cheeky grin sort of falls out of place, showcasing an underlying fear that has him licking his lips and searching your face.

“Is that true?”

All he does is nod his head, looking at you with such sincerity that the only way you’re able to respond is to inhale slowly. To stop and stare and subtly nod back, hoping that he understands.

When he does you’re met with nothing but anticipation. A breathless series of moments leading up to Astarion’s mouth against your throat, warming up the skin with languid licks that have you closing both your eyes, waiting for the pain. 

“I don’t understand what I did to deserve you.” 

The edges of his teeth scrape gently over your skin, making you swallow and sigh, unable to answer because you’re too busy preparing. Too busy expecting the pain before it eventually subsides into that numbness you so desperately crave. 

“Thank you, for this. Truly.”

His voice feels like velvet on your skin. The way it coasts the expanse of it in the softest of praise before it’s surpassed by that first initial jolt, ripping through your flesh in one quick push. Groaning lowly, you feel the presence of his teeth slide inside before you can even process, his lips haphazardly slotting over top to suck.

Without much warning you find yourself lost. Laying slack against the bed, unable to even bring yourself to grab his hair like the first time, you merely ride the wave of pain and pleasure that repeatedly breaks against you. Allowing it all to sink in with a quiet hum that has him smiling against your throat, lapping up bloodshed after bloodshed until he hears the door crash open. 

“It's way past sunrise what the hell are you —oh fucking— Astarion, seriously?”

Both of you look over in horror to see Karlach looking down at the floor —her one hand covering her face as she disapprovingly shakes her head, realizing what she’s just witnessed. 

Upon noticing, you know she isn’t all that surprised —just disappointed. A feeling that makes you sick to your stomach as you work to sit up, swearing under your breath and reaching for the nearest sheet despite your head starting to spin.

“I know we’ve been without proper shelter for months but for god's sake Karlach doors exist for a reason!” 

Mortified, you look between them as Astarion scolds, noticing the subtle smirk that rises over Karlach’s lips. “Well, maybe if the two of you got up when you were supposed to instead of lying around sucking each other off I wouldn’t have to fucking come up here in the first place!”

“To be fair, we never got to the part where I suck him off.”

Immediately, Karlach groans while Astarion snorts, prompting you to press your lips together to suppress a laugh as the energy in the room shifts toward your favour. 

“You two are just —just… come downstairs, please. Gale was supposed to cook breakfast but his hand’s still sore from the fight yesterday.”

“What the hell does that have to do with us?” Astarion asks but unfortunately, you already know the answer.

“You know how protective he gets over the cooking duties.” Annoyed, Karlach rolls her eyes, dropping her hand from her face to motion to you. “He won’t let anyone else but Blood-Bag over here do it.” 

Both of you groan but relent, telling Karlach you’ll be down soon before she grumbles a low you better be before shutting the door. 

When she’s gone you let out a sigh of relief, moving to sit up and shuffle towards the edge of the bed, trying your best to ignore the aching in your neck and the piercing gaze of Astarion’s frustration honing in on his handiwork. 

“Don’t even think about it,” you tell him then, narrowing your eyes at the hunger that lingers beneath the surface, threatening to rise all over again at the sight of your bloodied skin. 

Despite this, you know he’s most definitely thinking about it. Intensely and angrily, it’s probably the only thing he’s thinking about as he watches you push off the bed and move to your pack to grab a washcloth. 

“Can’t I just finish you off?” 

As you wipe down your neck, watching the way he frowns at the waste of blood you groan. “Astarion—“

“Please?” 

He’s at your side in an instant, wrapping his greedy hands around your waist, pulling you in all over again. Convincing you that despite the importance of your compatriot’s breakfast, his fill still reigns supreme. 

“Fine but—“

“I promise to return the favour.” He cuts you off with a smirk. One that’s laced with lust and quickly finds its way back to its home, stopping at the entrance with bated breath.

You can’t help but roll your eyes through your suppressed grin in response, feeling his fangs hit your neck only to stop when the door rings out in a series of knocks causing you both to close your eyes and groan, knowing it’ll have to wait till later. 

A fact that stirs an anger in both of you as you begrudgingly clean and throw on your clothes, attempting to ignore all the tension as you head downstairs to the communal kitchen space. 

Inside there’s about half a dozen bodies, slaving over pots and pans and chatting with their peers as they await their meals. In the corner, Gale and Shadowheart stand chatting amongst themselves, unaware of your presence until you’re standing before them, hands crossed grumpily over your chest. 

“Ah! About time you two showed up! We were beginning to think you’d abandoned the crew —or worse.”

“What could possibly be worse than leaving all of you behind?” Astarion asks dully, prompting you to shoot him a glare that has Shadowheart cocking her head.

“Where’s Karlach? Did she find you?” she asks.  

Both of you nod, trying your best not to reveal the events of her findings before quickly changing the subject, signalling Gale to go into some long-winded rant about the importance of breakfast. 

After that Astarion zones out completely. Standing alongside you, you can tell his mind is elsewhere as you and the wizard discuss the various ingredients you have on hand, working together to ultimately decide on a simple breakfast hash you could’ve easily whipped up without the lecture. 

“Do you want me to supervise or?”

You shake your head. “Seriously Gale. I’m fine. I’ve been cooking since I was five. Go rest with the others.”

It takes some further reassurance; mostly from Shadowheart who insists that you’re right because of how starving she is. But eventually, he manages to set aside his pride with a sigh, muttering something about spices before being dragged away, leaving just the two of you. 

“I swear I’ve never seen a more uptight wizard.” Astarion shakes his head while you wander over to the nearest prep table, producing a cutting board and a blade from Gale’s leftover pack. “I mean, I know they’re all pretty tightly wound but him—“

“Can you start peeling potatoes for me?”

He looks at you like you’ve just insulted his character. With widened eyes and open lips, he takes a minute to look around the room to see if you’re speaking to someone else before he realizes he’s the only one there. “Me?”

“Yes, you. C’mere.”

He does, but only to further stand there and stare, letting out a laugh. “Oh darling, I don’t cook. Hunt, yes, but obviously considering the fangs and all that you and I both know I no longer have a need for culinary skills.”

Ignoring his words you hand him the knife and motion to the spot next to you, watching as he reluctantly obeys. “Peel these then cut them into chunks about this big.” You show him the sizing with your fingers, hoping he’s smart enough to understand before tossing a couple of potatoes in front of him. “Then cut these peppers about half that size.” 

As you hand over the peppers, Astarion continues to look at you in disbelief. “You can’t be serious, darling.”

“Dead, actually.” You grin mischievously, procuring some eggs that Gale managed to trade off of one of the other cooks before you arrived along with a bowl. “Besides, I recall a moment earlier when you said you’d return the favour?”

“Sexually,” he states. Then, he grabs the nearest potato and begins to peel, shakily slicing off a piece of potato skin. “Also, if I recall we didn’t even finish your end of the bargain.”  

“Yet.”

Realizing that you’re right, he merely huffs and continues to peel, wreaking havoc along the knuckles of his fingers in the process. 

It makes you frown, watching him struggle as you crack your eggs and mix, remembering that he probably hasn’t done this in years. For the last two centuries, he was too busy hunting whatever he could find underground, desperately consuming whatever crossed his path —meaning he probably hasn’t used a knife for anything other than violence since before he was turned. A depressing fact that has you reaching for his hand and examining his wounds with tired eyes.

“Can I show you how to hold it?”

There’s a moment where he goes to protest but ultimately accepts, looking at you half-annoyed as you explain the angle at which the knife should sit in his hand and the amount of pressure you should use. 

“I don’t know why you insist on having me help. I don’t eat any of it.” 

As he speaks he still takes your advice, letting the knife carefully slide across the potato, avoiding his knuckles entirely, making you grin. “It’s not about eating. It’s about making something you’re proud of.”

“How can you be proud of something that will no longer exist in an hour?”

You shrug your shoulders, unsure how to explain as the two of you then work in silence. As he peels and cuts, you prep your eggs before moving on to the sausage, dumping the meat into a pan with some simple spices that most definitely weren’t on Gale’s list. 

You discover then how easy this all feels. From the moment you woke up, it’s as if you’ve been transported to a new life. One where the threat of danger is lost just like the stagnant tadpole behind your eye. In your mind, there’s not a care in the world other than Astarion’s knife skills and the hungry bellies that impatiently sit and it’s nice. Simple. The kind of life you quickly find yourself longing to have as the two of you continue to cook, occasionally joking about your peers between flirtatious touches and suggestive comments that have your chest feeling warm.

“You know with some practice you might actually be a handy prep cook.” 

Bumping your hip against Astarion’s you notice a flicker in his gaze. One that’s filled with something foreign and happy as the two of you begin walking out your freshly cooked meal. “I’d say you’re wrong but considering my toxic pride, I’ll merely agree.”

Before you can respond the whole table catches your attention. Their eyes are wide with want as you set the bowl of hash at the centre of the table, barely blinking before they’re shovelling it onto their respective plates and expressing their thanks; filling Astarion with a new kind of pride that makes him fully understand just what you meant earlier. 

-

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[tinydefector]

This just hit me but there is sort of an inherent impact play to fucking a cybertronian! Like their metal frame probably makes it sting a little when they make contact with human skin every time they thrust. I can just image some mech seeing their humans sore little butt from taking a beating from their robo pelvis

Ahhh gods!!!. All I can think is the amount of bruises I get from bumping into things, all I can think is the bruises that would be left on my legs from large fingers. But also that each mech leaves different bruises and outlines in your skin from the plating of their digits.

You know for a fact that the human is going to be sore afterwards. They are sprawled out on a berth, table, or any surface a bot can take them on. And you know for a fact they are going to be limping, tender and sore after fucking. Yet it's almost addicting. you always find yourself back on their spike, whether it's a soft love making session or a brutal fuck fest, your always going to have marks, bruises and tenderness.

But like the amount of bruises left over, at first the cybertronians are so worried because 'oh frag I've hurt my lover' but then it turns out their human seems to rather enjoy the marks left over, tho the first few days they are rather tender and sore form it, so it turns into the next few days after a session that the bot is just watching them, checking on them.

But over time, the cybertronian starts to really enjoy the bruises, and he loves the fact that their digits are basically bruised into their lovers body. Watching the way the blues, reds, greens and yellows swell together on flesh, on one hand they hate the fact they are responsible for the injuries, but on the other they adore the colours and knowing the fact they they are the ones who did it.

If it was from anything other than interfacing or from someone else it would be a very different story, but for the fact you trust them enough to know how much strength this giant metallic being has, yet you still trust them, seek out their company and curl up against them afterwards.

_____

-Imagine getting so into it with a bot to the point they accidentally break your pelvis but your not willing to go to a medic and have to explain what happened.

- human doctor thinking your being abused due to the about of bruises on your body when they are doing a full health check.

- bot your with having a full blown panic first time they see the bruises and they scan you and realises the marks line up with their frame. And they are nearly sobbing becuase 'I've been killing your blood and skin cells and you haven't told me!?!?'

- you looking yourself in the mirror and going. "Fuck today's going to be hell" realising how much walking your going to have to do, and the fact that sitting down is going to hurt just as much.

________

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[mellowwillowy]

I NEED TO TELL A YANDERE BLOG ABOUT THIS NSFW HEADCANON I HAVE-

Imagine a yandere that bought one of those super high quality sex dolls and dresses it up as you with stolen clothes and puts a wig on to match your hair color, etc, used it constantly calling out your name, etc

Also imagine you finDING IT- oml

- ☀️anon

☀️ nonnie you beeg brained :D

ᴡʜᴏꜱᴇ ʟɪꜰᴇ-ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴅᴏʟʟ? (ɢɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

♥ warnings — general yandere warnings, reader is a dom? and yan is a subby... doll and yan wears lingerie, degradations toward yan, sub-dom, worship - Master play, slapping and mention of sounding.

—𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓 - 𝑳𝑰𝒇𝑬 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒋𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕, ʙʟᴜᴇ

By just dressing this silicone doll in the correct wig, outfits, and makeup and dousing it with perfume, he gets to practice all his fantasies on it. It almost looks like you now, especially with how accurately it's dressed since it is indeed your clothes that he stole. He does enjoy dressing it up with the type of outfits you wouldn't usually wear.

All is great but not the best.

Why? It's not you after all. It's just some silly expensive doll that is dressed to look like you to satiate his needs. Nonetheless, what's better than 0? 1. And that is this doll, a 1/100.

It's mostly used for menial stuffs such as a morning bed buddy, a company for breakfast and a company for when he's sat in front of the computer for a long time, alone.

But when night falls?

"Fuck–, be good." He grunts as he slams his cock into the doll, mindlessly calling out your name like some sort of prayer, eyes rolling to the back of his head. The doll is totally abused by him every night, dressed in countless themed outfits.

"Yeah, yeah, gonna cum, gonna paint you white from the inside fuck-!"

His pace grows erratic, breath raggier and tongue lolling out like a dog. He's already on cloud nine over a doll, what will it be if he's fucking the real deal instead?

"Ah- fuck, gonna cum-!"

The sound of beeping suddenly rings, cutting his panting in half as his eyes are trained toward the door.

Beep. Clack.

"Hey Blue, brought ya' the goods.... s...?"

Your eyes go up and down. Him, naked with a doll beneath him, his cock buried inside the doll, shielding your eyes from it. Hand tugging on the wig of your hairstyle and the clothes you thought you had somehow lost lying on the floor, not to mention the whole room smells like you!

"Uhh... am I supposed to... knock or ring the doorbell from now on?" You motion toward the door as you try to avert your gaze toward somewhere else. Ah yes, the framed photo of you two looks good on the cabinet.

"Wa-wait, wait, don't, I mean, stay! I mean, go-! Arghh..." Blue stutters as he pulls out, his hardened cock now on display for you to see. So he is a grower...?

"Listen, I mean, fuck, look anywhere but me!" Blush creeps into his face as he wraps the blanket around his waist, striding toward you in panic.

"I got ya' the lemonade and uh..." You fail. Your eyes are just a pair of curious souls, looking at how his bulge is seen poking through the blanket.

"... shitfuck. Never knew ya' a grower"

"This is no time for joke..."

"You want the awkwardness to die down or nah pal?"

Blue stays silent for a moment before crouching down in annoyance. He should have just chainlocked the damn door today!

"Been wondering why I've been missing some of my clothes and undies, ya' into stealing or just broke?"

His cock is supposed to be limp by now but it's not. It's twitching from your last words. What has gotten into his head?

"And that lingerie? Oo... never knew yer' a kinky one." Your foot nudges his shin before his bulging cock, giving it a rub. Blue shudders from the contact, falling backward on the butt while the blanket slips from his waist, revealing his aching cock that is leaking precum.

"Fucking masochistic aren't ya?"

You straddle him as you place the plastic bag down onto the floor, knee pressed against his bulge while your tongue licks his sweat from his face, hand slowly taking the glasses off his face, is this prescribed spectacle?

"My pretty boy."

You walk toward the bed and sit on it, your eyes trained on the naked doll, it looks almost like you, thumbs up for him for sure. You beckon him closer with your finger, and so he does.

"Would love to see you dressed in lingerie instead, come on, do a favor for me yeah doll?"

Blue gulps as he nods, slowly undressing the doll before wearing it himself, the size doesn't really fit him but it's manageable. His cock twitches every now and then as you watch his figure.

"Lovely, isn't it?"

"U-unh..."

"Did you pick this lingerie while thinking how it'll look like if it's wrapped around my body? How the color will suit me... how easy the access would be for you to just..." You sandwich his cock with your feet, rubbing it up and down, "feel me like I'm doing to you right now?"

Blue shakes as he moans out, his knees slowly turning into jellies. He needs you, to feel you all over. And so he pleads, "Please..."

You raise your eyebrows, "Please what?"

"Please... do me... yeah?"

You smack his cock with your foot, "Is that how you are supposed to talk to your Master?"

Blue gulps before kneeling down, his lip moving to your foot pressing kisses on it while occasionally licking it, "Please, Master." You try your best to bite your excitement back, eyes swirling in lust as you focus on the lovesick mutt in front of you. You'll collar him later but for now, he is your doll, yours to toy with just like how he's been toying with this doll.

"Come," You pat your thigh, "Let me feel that cheek of yours."

Blue nods and brings his face closer to yours, you can feel his breath fanning you. Your finger pokes his cheek before it turns into a palm that feels his cheek, hard. You slap him.

"Be good, else I'll fucking squeeze a pipe down your cock."

Blue shivers from the idea of sounding. That would totally feel so good, right? His cock starts leaking even more pre-cum, spoiling your thigh with the white liquid.

"Fucking mutt in heat. Why not rut yourself with my thighs?"

It only takes that for Blue to raise your legs by the ankles, his cock in between your thighs as he ruts himself in and out, panting like a dog in heat. You pinch him in response to his action, too bad you couldn't reach his nipple.

"Fucking slut." You rip the lacy lingerie as you claw him, nails digging into his hips, "Gonna fucking chew your cock off later until it's minced."

Blue's cock twitches again from your words, pace even more erratic now. "Please do so!" He is close, you can see it. But he knows better than to come before you allow him to first. "Please, please, please, lemme cum? Need one out so bad, hurts so much."

"Ah? Do I look like I care?" You scowl at him for pulling one of your legs away from him, kicking him by his shoulder, "Fucking mutt, go hold that until your balls are as good as blue and I wouldn't even care."

Blue whimpers at your words but his excitement only grows even more, it only pushes him even further from his limit.

"Please, please, please I beg you. Please..." He begs as he rubs his face against your foot, peppering it with kisses and licks, "Please let me come, just one word I'm all done, please..."

You sneer at him before kicking his face lightly, "Give me a twirl."

He twirls. "Show me how needy your cock is." He shows it to you, lifting the veil for a clearer view. "A striptease for me." He strips, eyes never leaving yours until you suddenly jerk him off, "Good boy... come on." You rub him even faster, his hip bucking toward you for a better angle, "Come, my pretty doll."

Rope of cum soils your feet not afterward, your name rings in the room as he pants, trying to grasp reality after how cum-dazed he was. You rub your spoiled feet against his pelvis, soiling it with his cum as well.

"Come," You open your arms wide for him to dive his face into your neck. You kiss his ear as you caress his hair, muttering praises at him.

"Wanna try the real deal now?"

[bella-goths-wife]

Hi! Love your work! It's always so good! And how I feel the Vees' reaction to finding out pet reader is dating. Especially another "lowlife" demon (so most of hell lmao)-

Val: (If they're attractive, he tries to convince them to work under him. If not, he'll shoot them then tries to convince Vox if he can punish you for being a bad girl~)

Velvette: Ew, gross. Even you can fucking do better than that! *Beats you.*

Vox: *Is already hiring bounties and threatens to kill them if they fail. Reprimands and revokes what remaining privileges you had left. You get locked in your room with electrical burns too.*

Hiya, thank you so much!

I’m gonna do crushing instead of dating because let’s be honest here you’d never get as far as them complimenting you without the Vs sniffing your partner out and disposing of them :)

The Vs reaction to pet having a crush

Warnings: abuse, dark content, SA mentions, murder, punishments Valentino, hypocrisy, possessiveness, forced hair cutting, maiming, forcing reader to watch SA

Vox:

Vox noticed something was different about you

You had been quite….. cheery lately

You had requested to have more days working with Vox, and when he questioned you on it you had just stated that you knew it was his busy season since the extermination will have destroyed many technological items

Vox was ecstatic, and so so proud you were finally coming around to your role and wanting to learn about the business and help

Every meeting he had he would introduce you as his doll of an assistant, even if the client had seen you a thousand times over and had probably seen vox abuse you at one point

Vox’s enthusiastic bubble was quickly burst when he came back from his coffee break and heard you talking to one of his camera men

He even heard you let out a giggle with a blushing face as the lowly demon made some sort of off joke about your fawn ears and called you his little fawn

His? His little fawn? How dare this lowly little demon boy presume to call voxs possession his

You are vox’s daughter pet and that had to be respected

Vox acted like nothing happened and quietly dismissed you for the afternoon as a ‘treat’

He then called the your little crush into his office and threatened him with all sorts of things until he agreed to stay away from you or be insulting to you until you lost interest

If the demon refused, he’s dead

He’ll be killed torturously before his body is left in display in the basement, where Vox will take you to see what happens when you try and get cozy with other demons

Vox will lock you in the room with the body until his skin begins to rot and the smell makes you pass out as punishment

You’ll also be getting the shock collar treatment for a few months afterwards, just to remind you of your position at the company

After that, he’ll lay you in bed and strokes your head while he tells you that that demon didn’t want you for anything other than your body, just like the men and women from when you were alive

He places a fatherly kiss on your forehead as he tells you that he only does this stuff to teach you your lessons, and to make sure you remember that your owned and can never exist outside of him and the Vs

You’ll be watched carefully after that, to make sure you don’t get anymore ideas about having crushes on demons who weren’t worth the dirt under your shoes

Velvette:

She thought you must be an idiot or insane to think you could form a connection with a demon outside of her and the Vs

She assumed you wouldn’t be that stupid

But imagine her shock when she sees you blushing bright red as you talk to one of her newer models

She even heard you let out high pitched giggles at the models pathetic jokes

And she practically saw red when she saw the model use her filthy fucking hands to touch you and move a strand of your hair behind your fawn like ears

She lost it at the sight and demanded that everyone but you, her and the model left the room, and they all scurried out like rats to avoid her wrath

She berated you for trying to outsmart her and crushing on a lowlife demon who wasn’t worth anything

She hit you over and over again until she say you in the chair and turned her attention to the model

She made you take hold of some scissors and forced you with threats to cut all of the models hair off, and after fear got the best of you, you did it

You cut off her hair, but that wasn’t good enough for velvette

She took the scissors from your hands and slashed across the girls cheek, leaving what would be a deep scar as she claimed that no one would want to take her on now

She grabbed your crying figure by your shoulders and laughed about how you could ever let yourself be attracted to such an ugly lowly demon, you obviously did not laugh along

You had to wear her collar for the next few months with the lead attached, velvette claimed it would stop you acting like a bitch in heat and costing her more models

Velvette never liked to share anything, even her pets weren’t an exception

So it’s fair to say that whoever your crushing on at any time will be destroyed by velvette, mentally and physically

Valentino:

Valentino had hired a new camera man for his newest videos, claiming that he needed a fresh eye

So it was one of the rare occasions that Vox allowed you into Valentino’s studio during filming since Valentino had tasked you with showing the new guy around as he was far to busy with his little angel dust

So you had done just that and showed the new guy around, you just didn’t think he’d be this handsome and charming

His words melted you like butter and he practically had you wrapped around his finger

At first it was amusing for Valentino to see his little pet so lovestruck and foolish when he returned from his little play date with angel

But it quickly turned into a jealous annoyance as you gave the demon genuine smiles that Valentino had yet to receive after you working for him and the Vs for many years now

He squeaked in annoyance whenever he’d see you laugh at the camera man’s jokes or you’d smile at him while looking at him with lovestruck awe

So when you went off to do your daily tasks, he approached the camera man and stated that he had a new offer

He offered the camera man a job to film a video with him being the star and Val being his co-star

The camera man was extremely against the idea but after a lot of money was offered and coercion from val, he eventually accepted after much pressure was applied

So the camera was in a gruelling filming session and after it was done, he couldn’t look you in the eyes when you passed him in the hall

You became very confused on why he was avoiding you, and you became even more confused and dread filled when Valentino had called you into his office for an impromptu editing session for his newest video

You were disgusted as you watched your crush be practically assaulted as Valentino forced you to use your ability to edit the sounds

You threw up multiple times, but Valentino still forced you to watch and edit

After you were done, Valentino caressed your face and stated that only he and the other Vs would care for you as everyone else just care about money or fame

He patted you on the shoulder before handing you over to a very pissed of Vox for a punishment for your lovesick actions

Any punishment Vox gave you felt like nothing compared to having to watch the person you had made a connection with get assaulted by your abuser and having to edit the sounds

You stayed away from Valentino’s workers after that, you even avoided angel for a few months after the incident

You feared what a jealous rage might do to them, and to you

Taglist:

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[ophelian-darling]

𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬.

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Jonathan Joestar, Joseph Joestar, Jotaro Kujo, Josuke Higashikata, Giorno Giovanna and Jolyne Cujoh - gn reader.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : There's more than a way to say I love you, yet there are many too ways to say I hate you.

TW : Obsession, delusional thoughts, verbal abuse.

enjoy ♡

𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫:

♡ : Thank you for everything you do for me, JoJo.

It fills him with blessing to know how much his words and actions are something with great meaning in your eyes. Faithful servant when in love- except that everything he does sources from the warmest atoms of his soul and from the deepest corners of his heart. Jonathan fights the world to see you happy, and rests with a smile when he earns the slightest curve of your lips; to him, it's the ultimate gift he can ever receive- your Love.

- You mean nothing to me.

Tears- everything that would wash him with agony strikes at once. the sensation of tearing the flesh of a heart open accompanies your words; deeply cutting and painful, causing all of his insecurities to float : Am I being useless again darling? Am I being a burden? Have you grown tired of me? He can't help it when he sheds these tears: He had lost all of your affection and care. the only source of warmth he had, now doused in the cruelest way possible. 

𝐉𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐡 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 :

♡ : I like you , you're awesome!

Just imagine it, that ghost of a blush coffined beneath a confident smirk and a glinting wink! Joseph catches a love fever once you state that his presence around you is enjoyable. He feels that he already aimed at the moon by gaining your trust and company- it meant that you were besotted with him in return, regardless of whatever you said about considering him as a mere brother or a dear friend. JoJo sees the colors of your eyes soften as you say so, it is surely, undoubtedly love!

- We're done.

a swift of a cut that it doesn't elicit any pain at first, then it's repeated again, slightly stinging, then it rolls down your tongue, fully sinking in his soul. How could you?! Was the thing in the middle of your chest a hard stone to not see or feel a fraction of his love towards you?! a heavy realization of being used falls on his head like a heavy anvil: the blood in his veins floats just right under his skin, painting anger as red, yet the pale dread underneath can't be helped. Why? He would scream at you, but the reasons were nothing of an importance, you just toyed harshly with his feelings. 

𝐉𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐊𝐮𝐣𝐨 :

♡ : I'm always by your side. 

It ignites a pleasant warmth within his heart and shines through his eyes; it confesses his undying love and loyalty for you, regardless of whatever mean words he utter. No force on earth can banish him from you: From the depths of Inferno to the ends of earth and above in the heavens, He would remain with you forever, his lineaments engraved under your eyelids and in the darkest curtains of your vision. JoJo doesn't show it, but he's on cloud nine to know that you're staying as well- that he finally earned your love. 

- Nobody loves you, not even me.

He's already aware. Half of people fear him, the other hates him, and there were you, probably feeling something negative swirl inside you towards him, now confirming it with each spiteful letter you let out. Couldn't you just shut the fuck up and swallow it instead of saying it out loud? He spits, the words of you reiterating louder and louder in his mind that now he can't unhear. You've just ruined everything for him, he had peacefully thought that everything went well, that your protests and complaints were just a childish fit- but now, it's all so grotesquely real: you truly hated him, and for the first time ever, he has no idea what he should do. 

𝐉𝐨𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐚 :

♡ : You're cute! I like your hair!

Nobody can stop him, the boy with a heart of diamond and eyes of warm seas! Everything in his eyes glints with beauty; especially you: everything about you is a well crafted detail, say your eyes, your smile or the contours of your face. The subject of his daydreams- they were made of spring rain drops and cotton candy, the enchanting human whom he had a silly intense crush on called him cute! Was there even a better time to be alive? to be praised by someone you adored was the epitome of being coddled beyond any wishes of a young man madly in love!

- Look at you, pathetic and ugly.

Huh?! 

It's all that he can think of as a response. Your words take a slow effect on him; as if he was trying to process it in another different light, in a gentle way that didn't convey the clear in them. At first, He's at sixes and sevens for a few minutes: people who are in love together were supposed to have each other's back, to boost each other's confidence and accept them whatever and whoever they were- so why were you saying this to him now? obviously it wasn't a joke, your voice was too cold to warm the words into a playful comment, he would have accepted them if you were just a tad above expressful, not a doll that just stares back eerily. He should be angry, but it just melts in tears, all of his hidden insecurities emerge into existence, and not even Crazy Diamond is able to fix the shatters of his heart. 

𝐆𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐨 𝐆𝐢𝐨𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 :

♡ : You mean the world to me.

Galatea to Pygmalion, Juliet to Romeo, Layla to Qays- You to Giorno. Romanticism wasn't something he was versed in, but in a blink of an eye, the world fell into a pink blur, filling everything with such amour a human never had in a little heart. GioGio ponders to himself that you were an Angel, a poor pure plumed creature that tripped and fell into the land of the stained; worth to be kept in a vitrine till the sun burns away. The smile that dances on his lips when he hears your gratitude, the joy he feels when his efforts of shielding you are finally noticed by you equate the flow of sweetness he tasted for the first time he saw you: Love.

- You're a monster. 

The gray flicker in his eyes blends with the greens of his irises; it doesn't reflect on your face that you just hurt him, while having the audacity to brand him as a monster. His patience contained all of your attitudes, he bottled up every evil word you threw at him and continued to offer more than he should for the sake of winning back some or little of your affection, but to no avail. The mayhem under his skin is concealed by force, consuming whatever left of his patience as he makes you toe the line. You're selfish- you always were, yet he can't help his love for you. 

𝐉𝐨𝐥𝐲𝐧𝐞 𝐂𝐮𝐣𝐨𝐡 :

♡ : Good Girl! 

Valentine, Friends and dates- High school sweethearts and kisses! Her world is a ridiculously colored picture of a sunny day; her imagination paints a world where she is with you and nothing could ever go wrong. How much would she offer to just touch the tips of your fingers with her hands? nothing less than what she is able to count! JoJo wanders around you in the excitement of a puppy around its master, waiting for a treat or a word of praise for pleasing them. She wants you to say it again, over and over again, to no end! A Good girl was a girl in Love! 

- How annoying you are. 

She had heard someone she loved before say this, but who were they? 

Remorse falls heavily on her like a dark curtain- She'd just ruined the best thing she ever had in life. She blames herself for being too clingy, too needy and too desperate- she carries the shame and burden like weights on her shoulders, staggering as the remains of her confidence seep through the fractures. Your sweet words and praises were brightening her existence; was she to be something if you didn't adore her? The talkative, open and daring Jolyne is now nothing but a silent, gloomy and wounded little girl, asking for a little of love and receiving none no matter how much she gave. 

[moonlitstoriess]

Across the Universe-ch.4 (Fenrys x Reader)

Summary: Y/n has everything she needs in life. A family, friends, a safe place she calls home and most importantly a male whom she loves. What happens when it all changes when Y/n finds out about the betrayal of her lover and her so called family? Well, ending up in Terrasen and in queen Aelin's court was not what she expected but what she will need to start her new journey full of surprises.

Warnings: mentions of trauma, abuse, suggestive themes but no smut yet

See masterlist

She was 13.

He came home furious. Shaking his wings from the ice and snow stuck to them. Today was the Winter Solstice. Y/n always liked to imagine how normal families, normal faelings celebrated this magical day. Presents, delicious food, games, dancing, laughing and singing all night long. How warm, loved and happy they are. Then she turned her head from the window and came back to reality as she saw his angry face staring right at her.

But, as if the Mother took pity on her for just this special day, he walked past her to his room. Maybe, she could ask him then. Maybe, this time he will listen.

"Today is Winter solstice."

He froze midway, turned around and looked at her, his scarred and bearded face forming a scowl as he said, "And?"

She took a deep breath. It was now or never. "Maybe...maybe we could celebrate it. Like a normal family."

"Like a normal family."

"Y-yes. You could buy me a present and if you give me money, I could buy you one too. Maybe you could help me coo-"

A harsh slap right across her left cheek.

He grabbed her jaw and squeezed it harshly as he spat at her face, "You idiot! Why should I waste my money on a useless whore? And how dare you suggest that I, a respected Illyrian warrior, a captain for fuck's sake, stoop so low as to help you cook?"

She simply stared at him with emotionless, dead eyes. Begging, cring and pleading would do her no good. She learnt it the hard way.

He smirked, "On second thought, if you love this foolish day so much, why shouln't I give you your gift."

The next thing she knew, he was stripping her bare and throwing her out into the freezing, unforgiving cold of the Illyrian mountains. He laughed as he said, "Happy Winter Solstice you pig." and with that, he shut the door to her face, leaving her to freeze to death.

Two hours and fifteen minutes. She knew it because as she knelt with her knees to her naked chest, she counted every second, every minute that passed by. Not once did she cry. She only prayed for the Mother to make her death as painless as possible. By the time her feet and fingers were getting blue, she had already collapsed and got covered in snow.

When she awoke, he was in the room, standing next to her bed, acting concerned, "Sweetness, forgive me, I did not know what came over me. But you had to somehow understand that Winter Solstice is only celebrated by fools and although you ARE an idiot, I can not allow you to still be manipulated by all that high fae bullshit."

She could not breathe. Everything became too tight. She was drowning. She could no-

A hand. A hand was stroking her head. There was a voice...so distant now. A male voice but...who? The hand was rubbing calming circles all over her back. Everything was foggy, so blurry. The comforting touch made her feel so light...like a feather and so free. She felt like she was lying in a field of flowers now. She felt the storms within her quiet.

Calm. Tranquilent.

Then, the soft touch was gone and y/n awoke immediately. But there was no one in the room. Only the light coming from the moon, illuminating the room through the curtains and the absolute silence of the place were there to keep her company.

By the early signs of sunrise, y/n was already awake and ready to fight some of this stress and pressure out. She found some training gear in the wardrobe which consisted of black, tight pants and a long sleeved tight shirt that was custom made to accomodate her wings. How Aelin managed to get such a shirt for her in a matter of hours, was a question to which she had no answer. With a final touch to her hair, y/n exited her room in search of a tarining area.

This palace was enormous. The walls were covered in white and gold. She passed room after room, went down stairs after stairs. How rich are they? For a queen that fought in a war 3 years ago, Aelin has done very well in improving her courts living standards. Y/n only hoped that the same applied to the rest of Terrasen. To the common people living within villages.

After reaching the ground floor and taking a couple of turns after asking some servants and taking a 3 minute walk outside the West wing, y/n managed to find the the training area. It was an open, medium sized, circular ring, surrounded by grassy mainlands and small hills. In the distance, you could see the forest. On the left side, there were rows and rows stacked with weapons and other training equipment while on the left side, there was a table with a pitcher, probably with water inside, on it and some chairs and lying mats. Opposite to her on the other side of the ring, was a dummy strapped to a wooden holder.

With a quick stretching out, y/n took some binds for her hands and then walked towards the dummy. She hoped that starting out with punches and kicks would somehow sedate her growing anger. Besides, it has been 3 whole days since she last trained. As she began punching, her anger seemed to only increase. Anger at Azriel? At the rest of her family? At the Book of Breathings? At Aelin and her court? No, she was angry at herself. How weak could she be? She was pathetic really. First she let that monster dictate her life for 20 years, then she was stupid enough to fall in love with a male who played her, and now she is weak enough for letting those horrible past days come to her as nightmares.

She killed him. He was gone. She was trained to be better than this. Stronger. But...he was still winning. Even in death, he was haunting her. And Azriel...how foolish could she be to open up to him about everything, show him her raw and vulnerable side, trust him, only to be betrayed by him. What a joke she was for thinking that she got a happy end. Never again. Never again will she ever be foolish enough to be with a male, let alone trust him. Such a coward, so-

"What are you doing here?"

She knows that voice. How could she not after it has been the most aggravating thing that she has ever heard. So infuriating and yet...so hypnotizing. As much as she hated him and his voice, she would also find herself yearning to hear i- No. Stop. He is rude and unapologetic and thinks only of himself. Now her anger shifted again. This time to the male standing behind her, waiting for a reply.

Y/n turned around with a glare but felt herself foam at the mouth as she took in the sight in front of her.

Fenrys was standing in the center of the ring, half naked. His soft, shining hair was put up in a half bun, his broad, extremely muscled and scarred chest and arms were put on display as she devoured the view starting from his throat going down to his v line and then...he was wearing loose black pants and some combat boots.

She must have been staring at him for who knows how long because he said, "Did you enjoy slithering your way into my queens embrace?"

All the growing lust she felt suddenly got washed away as she felt like a cold water was dumped over her. Does he truly think so lowly of her? How dare he. How dare he assume such things about her.

"Seems like you are really pissed about me being here. Mind telling me why on earth you were so rude to me yesterday?"

He turned around towards the weapons as he said, "I meant what I said. You may think you have everyone fooled with your games but not me. I watch your every move."

She smirked as she said, "So obsessed. Might as well create a whole devoted circle in my honor. You and Lorcan could be it's representatives or leaders."

At that, he turned around and slowly started stalking towards her as he said, "You should start praying to whatever being you believe in to help you find your way home quicker because if you don't leave this place soon, I am afraid it won't be nice for you."

He was around two meters away from her now. Not close but also not far.

"Oh really? And what will happen to me, I wonder? Are you going to turn into your big bad wolf form and eat me?"

At that, Fenrys smirked as he said, "Trust me, many ladies would agree that I do not need my wolf form to eat someone."

Y/n slightly blushed but still held her ground as she said, "Those ladies must surely be blind if you are their type."

They were close now. So close she could feel his breath hitting her skin. His woodsy and vanilla scent was hitting her nose now. His nostrils flared slightly and his pupils dilated. He stared right into her eyes as he slowly said, "You want to let your frustration out? Come fight me."

Y/n, still in a haze, only asked, "W-what?"

He smirked slightly and stalked back "Let us see the infamous Y/n who is so legendary in her world."

She shook her head as if forcing her body to wake up from the haze she was in as she scoffed and said, "I do not train with uncultured animals."

He only stared at her from the center again as he said, "Scared, princess?"

It seems like that was the push she needed because at that moment she wanted nothing more than to punch his infuriatingly handsome face. She started stalking closer towards the center of the ring as she said, "Alright. But only to prove to you how weak you are compared to me."

He smirked but said nothing as they both took their positions, opposite to one another. Before they could start, she gave him a slightly puzzled look "Aren't you going to put binds on your hands?"

"I do not need protection for my knuckles."

Y/n rolled her eyes "How impressive of you."

"I know what you are doing."

"Really? and what exactly am I doing."

"Trying to get me to talk so you could get the first pu-"

Fenrys did not get to finish his sentence as y/n lunged for him. But he quickly sidestepped her, his movements fluid and precise, as he threw a quick kick to her shin that sent y/n staggering backwards. In a skilled move, y/n lunged forward, aiming a powerful uppercut at Fenry's jaw. He managed to deflect the blow, but it left him momentarily off balance. Seizing the opportunity, y/n delivered a swift kick to his abdomen, sending him staggering backward.

As Fenrys stumbled, y/n launched herself forward, tackling him to the ground with a resounding thud. They grappled fiercely, rolling across the pavement in a tangled heap of limbs and adrenaline.

Despite Fenry's strength, y/n's agility gave her the upper hand. With a deft twist, she managed to pin him beneath her, straddling his chest as she pressed his arms firmly to the ground.

Their breaths came in ragged gasps, the heat of their exertion mingling with the chilly air of an early morning. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as they gazed into each other's eyes, the intensity of their connection sparking something deeper than mere anger or frustration.

He was always breathtaking. As if he was sculptured from marble. But now, as she lied there, chest to chest with him, she could see how absolutely marvelous he was. Such sharp and defined facial features, slight golden freckles, and those tempting lips. Cauldron boil her she really should get up if she did not want him smelling any of her arousal that was surely starting to grow. But...he felt so warm and his abs that were right beneath her....and then lower, she felt his-

"So this is y/n?"

Y/n immediately pushed herself off of him as Fenrys quickly sat up. They both looked to their left to see the source of the voice. It was a girl with red-gold hair and seemingly golden eyes. She did not look too small, more like just hitting puberty. She has deep scars on both of her cheeks but despite that, she was still very beautiful.

"Eva, what are you doing here?" Fenrys said as he got up and went towards the girl.

She ignored him as her curious eyes stayed trained on y/n "When I first heard of your arrival, I really really wanted to meet you but then Lysandra said no and then you fell unconscious and thennnn you were brought to Aelin again and I really really begged her to let me also see you but Aelin said no. That you may be dangerous- Oh sorry I should not have said that." she clearly was embarassed because she looked down.

Y/n giggled as she said, "Do not worry. What is your name?"

The girl seemed to quickly forget her moment of embarrassment as she smiled brightly and jogged towards y/n "Evangeline! But everyone calls me Eva. Lysandra and Aedion are my parents- well not real parents because they adopted me- Oh wow! you do have wings! may I touch them? Please please please"

She smiled as she looked at Eva and said, "Nice to meet you Eva, my name is y/n. You are very sweet but unfortunately I do not like when my wings are touched."

A frown appeared on her small face as she asked, "Why?"

"Because they are quite sensitive so if someone touches them without my permission, I will punch first then ask the questions. For those like me, wings are our most cherished possession." and with that, y/n's finger's booped Eva's nose as the little girl smiled and said, "I understand! I also get angry when someone touches my things without permisson."

Then, suddenly, Fenrys came closer as he sweetly said to Eva, "Is there something you needed sweetheart?"

"Breakfast is being set up, Lysandra allowed me to come and call you guys."

"That is very nice of you Eva, but I need to train some more-"

"We will be there in a minute, sweetheart" Fenrys cut y/n off to which, she gave him a glare.

Eva nodded before turning around and running to the palace.

"I am not hung-"

"You have been here since Gods know when. Your body needs food to stabilize it after all the energy it generates. Thought you knew that."

She scoffed "I do know that I am just not feeling-"

"Well, that is too bad because you are still coming to eat."

The way he said it left room for no questions as she sighed and followed him. As they were walking, y/n smiled a little as she said, "Is Eva always this talkative?"

At the mention of the little girl's name, Fenrys also smiled as he said, "On the contrary. She is very quiet and observant. She only gets like this when she is around us. And seemingly you. But who can blame her, the things that child went though..."

Fenrys quickly shut himself up before saying any more private things that he had no right saying. Not unless Lysandra or Eva felt comfortable sharing it with y/n. She did not ask him anything else as she understood and respected his silence.

By the time they reached the dining room, everyone was there. This room was less formal but luxurious enough nonetheless. The ceiling and the ground were both pale gray. To her right, there was a large floor to ceiling window with green drapes over it. The walls were pale green but they had silver floral designs over them. There were also candles in silver holders attaged to the walls. Finally, at the center of the room was a table which had multiple delicious-looking meals on it. Around the table were pale green chairs with silver legs. And on the chairs, were Aelin and the rest of her court.

"Y/n! Fenrys! come you two. Since you arrived last, you get those last two seats. Try not to kill one another." Aelin said while smiling as Aedion let out a snort and Lysandra cackeled.

Indeed, there were only two empty seats left at the end of the table. Y/n knew luck was never on her side but atleast now would be agood time for someone to switch places with her. Fenrys tensed beside her but quickly regained his calm before moving to sit on the chair.

When she also sat down, she noticed that there were 2 more children around. One looked like he could be 3, sitting on Lorcans lap while the other was a complete newborn snuggling in Elide's arms. When she saw y/n's look, Elide smiled as she said to her, "Y/n, these are our sons, that is Blaise, he is 2 and this...this newborn angel is Theon."

"They are adorable" she said with a smile

As they began eating, Aelin said to her, "I have made sure that you are granted acess to all the royal libraries here as you begin your search. Parallel with that, we will also be looking into the matter of the Wyrdgates because we think that now there is a possibility that one of them has ripped open. If that is the case, we must search for a way to close it again."

"Ugh not this again. We went through enough trouble the first time around, I can barely stand dealing with it the second time." Lysandra said with a sigh that had Aedion putting his hand behind her back to caress it.

"Well, I was too young back then to help you guys but I am old enough to do so now!" Eva said with a big and proud smile.

"You were 11 then, you are 14 now. Still too young. Not a chance." Aedion said with a teasing smirk before sticking his tounge out at her.

She huffed as they started their bickering session that had Lysandra rolling her eyes but still smiling.

Through her peripheral view, y/n saw how Fenrys was full on smiling. Not the teasing, annoying smirks he would give her, but a full, big genuine smile. Of course he would be at peace here. It seems like they all endured a lot and only had each other to protect and lean on. But, she knew, somehow felt it that he was sometimes putting on a mask. How no one noticed it as well was beyon her grasp. He had secrets. Nightmares. Ones he probably has not shared with anyone. That is understandable. After all, this could possibly be the only thing in which y/n can relate to him. They all had their dark secrets, past memories they tried to bury long ago.

Once breakfast was over, she joined Aelin and Lysandra on their trip to the library while Elide, together with Eva, took her newborn to sleep.

Fenrys had to go for his daily run as a wolf. It was something he has been doing a lot recently. It would help ease his visions of Connall's and Gavriel's death, his times with Maeve and the war. It has been 3 years already, they won the war, Maeve is dead, Erawan is dead, no more Valgs, everything is getting better. By now he should have moved on, felt less guilty and more happy. But he has not. Gavriel is dead while he is alive, his own brother is dead while he is alive. He was there when Maeve killed Conall, he could have done something to stop her. But, instead, he watched like a fucking coward. So now, as he left Lorcan and Rowan in the latters office, he shifted to his wolf form and headed towards the forest to once again, temporarily get rid of the growing shadows that surround him. He has been getting so aggressive lately.

It did not help that Aelin gave y/n a room that was right next to his in the West wing. Annoyed would be an understatement to describe his emotions. But, maybe it was because of the thin wall seperating them that he heard her moans of anguish, her nonstop chants of 'pleasepleaseplease' or maybe it was because he felt this sudden tug within him, urging him to go to her. Her energy and emotions were mixing with his own, he felt like he was suffocating too. He felt her pain. Even though he had promised himself to ignore her, to hate her with the hopes that whatever this feeling was would pass, he could not ignore her anguish. And so, he winnowed himself to her.

She was struggling, tears were staining her red cheeks, hair was all over the place, as she tossed and turned while still pleading to whoever or whatever it was she was seeing. It made his heart physically hurt to see her in so much discomfort. He quickly but carefully sat down next to her and put his hand on her back, rubbing calm circles over it.

"Y/n."

She did not hear him. Did not wake up. Did not stop her panick.

He tried again, with a more gentle voice, "Y/n, please."

She did not wake up but it seems like she heard him as her movements slowed slightly.

Taking it as a chance, Fenrys slipped his hands through her hair and barely managed to hold back his moan. Her silky hair was the softest thing he has ever touched. He started caressing it while saying very gently, "Princess please come back." "Come to me y/n, follow my voice." "I know you can come out of it. You are not weak."

At that, she calmed down completely as her tears stopped and her heart rate went back to normal. She was deep asleep again. That was his cue to leave but, he did not want to. She was beautiful. The moonlight only added to her serene state. He felt himself smile. Maybe he should not be so rude to her, maybe they could get along- What was wrong with him? She is a stranger, a possible enemy from another world and even if his queen welcomed her, he would keep his eyes on her constantly until the moment she left this place and he would be finally freed of her. And so, with a final look at her, he winnowed himself out.

Then, just this morning when he came to the training grounds to clear his mind, imagine the shock on his face when he saw the feisty little fireball furiously punching the dummy.

He was trying to get rid of her and yet, there she was, glaring at him from the other side of the ring. Not to mention how her tight little training gear brought really filthy images to his mind.

And then, when he walked closer to her, he saw how every thought emptied from her mind as she took him in. As if that was not enough, her sweet arousal hit his nose which had him witholding a groan and staggering backwards before he did something stupid.

When she pinned him down to the ground, he could only think about her warm, plush body on top of his. How perfectly they fit together, like 2 missing pieces of a puzzle. He was about to give in to his lust when Eva saved him by interrupting their little moment. He would have to buy a new fantasy book for her as a sign of gratitude.

She is everything that he hates. Annoying, too curious, aggressive, so self centered. He should really help his family on finding a way to get her out of here immediately. Or else...or else Fenrys is afraid of what may come next.

The library was huge. Tall shelves with rows and rows of books, massive windows that displayed the waterfalls and the green lands of Terrasen, marble floors that shined with the light streaming in from the sun and finally, couches, lounge chair, low tables were at every corner you turned. Gold and white was all around her.

At y/n's mesmerized face, Aelin says, "This library is the most valuable one of all the rest. It was destroyed during the conquest so what you see now is the renovated version, but I did try my best to make it look like how I remembered it."

Y/N gazed around in awe, absorbing every detail of the magnificent library. The sunlight filtering through the tall windows cast a warm glow over the room, illuminating the intricate carvings on the shelves.

"It's breathtaking," she breathed, turning to look at Aelin.

Aelin smiled, her eyes sparkling with memories of the past. "It's my pleasure," she replied, her voice soft yet filled with pride. "This library holds centuries of knowledge, wisdom, and history. It's a sanctuary, a place where one can lose themselves in the pages of a book and find solace in the words written by those who came before us."

"I can see why it's so important to you," Y/N said softly, reaching out to trace her fingers along the spine of a particularly ancient-looking tome. "It's more than just a library, isn't it? It's a symbol of everything you've fought for, everything you've lost, and everything you hope to achieve."

Aelin's smile faltered slightly, a shadow passing over her features before she nodded. "Yes, it is," she admitted, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness. 

Lysandra, who was watching the interaction with sharp eyes, came closer as she said, "It is also our best chance at finding something related to the issue at hand sooo...let us start. Where is Marcus or any of the other librarians?"

Aelin shrugged as she said, "I did not want any word getting out and causing everyone stress which is why I gave them a day off so we can search for it on our own."

Y/n nodded as she said, "Alright then, I think it would be more efficient if we seperate. I will go to the back rows."

After receiveng a nod from them, she stalked towards the far end. But what they failed to note is that Illyrians were always favored for their keen hearing. Which is why, when they thought y/n was a safe distance away they exchanged quick words that had her feeling lucky for her small asset.

"Anything suspicious?"

"No, she truly seems genuine in her actions."

"Maybe, but let us still keep our eyes on her."

And with that, they moved in different directions, going to search for books.

Y/n should have known that they would have their eyes on her. Well, it is not like she trusted them either so if spying on her made them feel better, then so be it.

One hour had already passed before y/n managed to find a very promising book that looked quite recent, but something within her drew her to pick it. Which led to her, Aelin and Lysandra to gather around one of the tables to see what the book held.

"Are we sure that this one will hold the answers to what we need? It looks quite new." Lysandra said with a curious glance at the book.

"I am not sure. But my feelings have never betrayed me. I feel like this book has something important in it."

Aelin sighed as she said, "Well, there is only one way to find out."

With a hopeful heart, y/n opened the unharmed, clean book. But despite its fresh covering, its pages were old, archaic, so yellow that it was almost brown-gold. It was as if this book was made in this way to steer everyone away by fooling them with its modern covering.

The first few pages were all talking of things that were of no interest to them. But it was a certain page that stood out to her after a couple of minutes of flipping through them.

"It's about the Valg," Y/N murmured, her voice barely audible above the hushed rustle of pages. "But it goes deeper than that. It speaks of gates, of worlds beyond our own, and the mysteries of the Book of Breathings."

Aelin's eyes widened with intrigue, her lips parting in silent wonder as she absorbed Y/N's words.

"The Book of Breathings? the one you have in your world? the one that sent you here in the first place?" Lysandra asked, now leaning over the table to read the pages.

Y/N nodded, her gaze fixed on the ancient text before her. "According to this," she continued, her voice trembling with awe, "the Book of Breathings is more than just a relic. It's a key, a gateway to other realms beyond our own. Just like the Wyrdkeys. In fact, what if there is a 4th Wyrdkey and that book is the one? And the Valg... "

Both Aelin and Lysandra were peering over her shoulders now, as Aelin quickly said, "What? The Valg what?"

"I-i don't know. I can not tell. The rest of the pages are in a language I do not understand."

All three females stared dumbfounded at the book, none of them knowing the ancient language written within.

"Look, there is something else in our language." Lysandra said as she pointed to the corner of the page.

There, a small writing that said:

“When shadows loom and darkness reigns,

The gates will open, breaking chains.

In fire and blood, they'll rise anew,

But only a chosen few can undo.

In the heart of a queen, strength resides,

To close the gates and stem the tides.

Yet fate may twist, the cycle's rhyme,

And darkness may reopen the gates in time."

"A prophecy..." Aelin said, still in deep thought as she re read the lines.

Lysandra sighed "This is very confusing."

"I don't understand, this prophecy seems to be talking about what needs to happen for the gates to open but darkness? shadows? you won the war though."

Lysandra nodded as she continued, "And this specific line that says 'in the heart of a queen, strength resides' makes no sense if this prophecy talks about how the gates may open after they were closed. Aelin is strong, but not when it comes to her powers, not anymore. So how is she supposed to close the gate when her magical strength has already been depleted?"

"And how is it connected to the Book of Breathings? Why did it send you to our world?" Aelin said, a serious look overtaking her face. The Aelin from a few hours ago was gone, in her place stood a true warrior queen who was worried for the safety of her people, of her world, who would do anything to keep the balance and peace.

Y/n sighed as she said, "We won't get any answers until we manage to decipher this ancient and foreign language."

Aelin and Lysandra nodded as the latter said, "But how? I do not think any of us know of this language and Aelin said we can not involve external sources so what do we do?"

Y/n said, "I have- had a close friend back at home. She could always decipher these kinds of things. I always admired her patience to sit, locked up in her house for days, not leaving until she figured it out."

Y/n had a sorrowful, nostalgic look on her face as she gazed through the large window to the outer world, remembering Amren. Her closest companion. Did she even care for y/n? What was she doing now?

Unbeknownst to her, Aelin and Lysandra were both staring at her, with a pitiful look on their faces. A look that conveyed how they felt for her, so lost and away from home.

Aelin put a gentle hand on her shoulder to bring her back to reality as she softly said, "I am sure we shall find a way. Come now, let us take the book and leave. We got what we needed."

Once they left the library with the book in y/n's hands, a servant came running towards them as she bowed at Aelin and said, "My queen, the Hand of the King Chaol Westfall and his wife lady Yrene Westfall have arrived at last."

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

A/n: Over 5k words! It seems like this number will only go higher as the plot thickens which, believe me it will. So much is coming you guys, but for now, I thank you for taking the time to read this and see you in the next chapter <3

Taglist: @ladespedidas @mis-lil-red @going-through-shit @kaitttttttt @blackgirlmagicforever

@acotar-writing @paleidiot @snoopyspace @stained-glass-eyes0708 @saltedcoffeescotch

@wallacewillow0773638 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @crazylokonugget @bunnyredgirl

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How to design a tech regulation

TONIGHT (June 20) I'm live onstage in LOS ANGELES for a recording of the GO FACT YOURSELF podcast. TOMORROW (June 21) I'm doing an ONLINE READING for the LOCUS AWARDS at 16hPT. On SATURDAY (June 22) I'll be in OAKLAND, CA for a panel (13hPT) and a keynote (18hPT) at the LOCUS AWARDS.

It's not your imagination: tech really is underregulated. There are plenty of avoidable harms that tech visits upon the world, and while some of these harms are mere negligence, others are self-serving, creating shareholder value and widespread public destruction.

Making good tech policy is hard, but not because "tech moves too fast for regulation to keep up with," nor because "lawmakers are clueless about tech." There are plenty of fast-moving areas that lawmakers manage to stay abreast of (think of the rapid, global adoption of masking and social distancing rules in mid-2020). Likewise we generally manage to make good policy in areas that require highly specific technical knowledge (that's why it's noteworthy and awful when, say, people sicken from badly treated tapwater, even though water safety, toxicology and microbiology are highly technical areas outside the background of most elected officials).

That doesn't mean that technical rigor is irrelevant to making good policy. Well-run "expert agencies" include skilled practitioners on their payrolls – think here of large technical staff at the FTC, or the UK Competition and Markets Authority's best-in-the-world Digital Markets Unit:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/13/kitbashed/#app-store-tax

The job of government experts isn't just to research the correct answers. Even more important is experts' role in evaluating conflicting claims from interested parties. When administrative agencies make new rules, they have to collect public comments and counter-comments. The best agencies also hold hearings, and the very best go on "listening tours" where they invite the broad public to weigh in (the FTC has done an awful lot of these during Lina Khan's tenure, to its benefit, and it shows):

https://www.ftc.gov/news-events/events/2022/04/ftc-justice-department-listening-forum-firsthand-effects-mergers-acquisitions-health-care

But when an industry dwindles to a handful of companies, the resulting cartel finds it easy to converge on a single talking point and to maintain strict message discipline. This means that the evidentiary record is starved for disconfirming evidence that would give the agencies contrasting perspectives and context for making good policy.

Tech industry shills have a favorite tactic: whenever there's any proposal that would erode the industry's profits, self-serving experts shout that the rule is technically impossible and deride the proposer as "clueless."

This tactic works so well because the proposers sometimes are clueless. Take Europe's on-again/off-again "chat control" proposal to mandate spyware on every digital device that will screen everything you upload for child sex abuse material (CSAM, better known as "child pornography"). This proposal is profoundly dangerous, as it will weaken end-to-end encryption, the key to all secure and private digital communication:

https://www.theguardian.com/technology/article/2024/jun/18/encryption-is-deeply-threatening-to-power-meredith-whittaker-of-messaging-app-signal

It's also an impossible-to-administer mess that incorrectly assumes that killing working encryption in the two mobile app stores run by the mobile duopoly will actually prevent bad actors from accessing private tools:

https://memex.craphound.com/2018/09/04/oh-for-fucks-sake-not-this-fucking-bullshit-again-cryptography-edition/

When technologists correctly point out the lack of rigor and catastrophic spillover effects from this kind of crackpot proposal, lawmakers stick their fingers in their ears and shout "NERD HARDER!"

https://memex.craphound.com/2018/01/12/nerd-harder-fbi-director-reiterates-faith-based-belief-in-working-crypto-that-he-can-break/

But this is only half the story. The other half is what happens when tech industry shills want to kill good policy proposals, which is the exact same thing that advocates say about bad ones. When lawmakers demand that tech companies respect our privacy rights – for example, by splitting social media or search off from commercial surveillance, the same people shout that this, too, is technologically impossible.

That's a lie, though. Facebook started out as the anti-surveillance alternative to Myspace. We know it's possible to operate Facebook without surveillance, because Facebook used to operate without surveillance:

https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=3247362

Likewise, Brin and Page's original Pagerank paper, which described Google's architecture, insisted that search was incompatible with surveillance advertising, and Google established itself as a non-spying search tool:

http://infolab.stanford.edu/pub/papers/google.pdf

Even weirder is what happens when there's a proposal to limit a tech company's power to invoke the government's powers to shut down competitors. Take Ethan Zuckerman's lawsuit to strip Facebook of the legal power to sue people who automate their browsers to uncheck the millions of boxes that Facebook requires you to click by hand in order to unfollow everyone:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/02/kaiju-v-kaiju/#cda-230-c-2-b

Facebook's apologists have lost their minds over this, insisting that no one can possibly understand the potential harms of taking away Facebook's legal right to decide how your browser works. They take the position that only Facebook can understand when it's safe and proportional to use Facebook in ways the company didn't explicitly design for, and that they should be able to ask the government to fine or even imprison people who fail to defer to Facebook's decisions about how its users configure their computers.

This is an incredibly convenient position, since it arrogates to Facebook the right to order the rest of us to use our computers in the ways that are most beneficial to its shareholders. But Facebook's apologists insist that they are not motivated by parochial concerns over the value of their stock portfolios; rather, they have objective, technical concerns, that no one except them is qualified to understand or comment on.

There's a great name for this: "scalesplaining." As in "well, actually the platforms are doing an amazing job, but you can't possibly understand that because you don't work for them." It's weird enough when scalesplaining is used to condemn sensible regulation of the platforms; it's even weirder when it's weaponized to defend a system of regulatory protection for the platforms against would-be competitors.

Just as there are no atheists in foxholes, there are no libertarians in government-protected monopolies. Somehow, scalesplaining can be used to condemn governments as incapable of making any tech regulations and to insist that regulations that protect tech monopolies are just perfect and shouldn't ever be weakened. Truly, it's impossible to get someone to understand something when the value of their employee stock options depends on them not understanding it.

None of this is to say that every tech regulation is a good one. Governments often propose bad tech regulations (like chat control), or ones that are technologically impossible (like Article 17 of the EU's 2019 Digital Single Markets Directive, which requires tech companies to detect and block copyright infringements in their users' uploads).

But the fact that scalesplainers use the same argument to criticize both good and bad regulations makes the waters very muddy indeed. Policymakers are rightfully suspicious when they hear "that's not technically possible" because they hear that both for technically impossible proposals and for proposals that scalesplainers just don't like.

After decades of regulations aimed at making platforms behave better, we're finally moving into a new era, where we just make the platforms less important. That is, rather than simply ordering Facebook to block harassment and other bad conduct by its users, laws like the EU's Digital Markets Act will order Facebook and other VLOPs (Very Large Online Platforms, my favorite EU-ism ever) to operate gateways so that users can move to rival services and still communicate with the people who stay behind.

Think of this like number portability, but for digital platforms. Just as you can switch phone companies and keep your number and hear from all the people you spoke to on your old plan, the DMA will make it possible for you to change online services but still exchange messages and data with all the people you're already in touch with.

I love this idea, because it finally grapples with the question we should have been asking all along: why do people stay on platforms where they face harassment and bullying? The answer is simple: because the people – customers, family members, communities – we connect with on the platform are so important to us that we'll tolerate almost anything to avoid losing contact with them:

https://locusmag.com/2023/01/commentary-cory-doctorow-social-quitting/

Platforms deliberately rig the game so that we take each other hostage, locking each other into their badly moderated cesspits by using the love we have for one another as a weapon against us. Interoperability – making platforms connect to each other – shatters those locks and frees the hostages:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2021/08/facebooks-secret-war-switching-costs

But there's another reason to love interoperability (making moderation less important) over rules that require platforms to stamp out bad behavior (making moderation better). Interop rules are much easier to administer than content moderation rules, and when it comes to regulation, administratability is everything.

The DMA isn't the EU's only new rule. They've also passed the Digital Services Act, which is a decidedly mixed bag. Among its provisions are a suite of rules requiring companies to monitor their users for harmful behavior and to intervene to block it. Whether or not you think platforms should do this, there's a much more important question: how can we enforce this rule?

Enforcing a rule requiring platforms to prevent harassment is very "fact intensive." First, we have to agree on a definition of "harassment." Then we have to figure out whether something one user did to another satisfies that definition. Finally, we have to determine whether the platform took reasonable steps to detect and prevent the harassment.

Each step of this is a huge lift, especially that last one, since to a first approximation, everyone who understands a given VLOP's server infrastructure is a partisan, scalesplaining engineer on the VLOP's payroll. By the time we find out whether the company broke the rule, years will have gone by, and millions more users will be in line to get justice for themselves.

So allowing users to leave is a much more practical step than making it so that they've got no reason to want to leave. Figuring out whether a platform will continue to forward your messages to and from the people you left there is a much simpler technical matter than agreeing on what harassment is, whether something is harassment by that definition, and whether the company was negligent in permitting harassment.

But as much as I like the DMA's interop rule, I think it is badly incomplete. Given that the tech industry is so concentrated, it's going to be very hard for us to define standard interop interfaces that don't end up advantaging the tech companies. Standards bodies are extremely easy for big industry players to capture:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/30/weak-institutions/

If tech giants refuse to offer access to their gateways to certain rivals because they seem "suspicious," it will be hard to tell whether the companies are just engaged in self-serving smears against a credible rival, or legitimately trying to protect their users from a predator trying to plug into their infrastructure. These fact-intensive questions are the enemy of speedy, responsive, effective policy administration.

But there's more than one way to attain interoperability. Interop doesn't have to come from mandates, interfaces designed and overseen by government agencies. There's a whole other form of interop that's far nimbler than mandates: adversarial interoperability:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/10/adversarial-interoperability

"Adversarial interoperability" is a catch-all term for all the guerrilla warfare tactics deployed in service to unilaterally changing a technology: reverse engineering, bots, scraping and so on. These tactics have a long and honorable history, but they have been slowly choked out of existence with a thicket of IP rights, like the IP rights that allow Facebook to shut down browser automation tools, which Ethan Zuckerman is suing to nullify:

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

Adversarial interop is very flexible. No matter what technological moves a company makes to interfere with interop, there's always a countermove the guerrilla fighter can make – tweak the scraper, decompile the new binary, change the bot's behavior. That's why tech companies use IP rights and courts, not firewall rules, to block adversarial interoperators.

At the same time, adversarial interop is unreliable. The solution that works today can break tomorrow if the company changes its back-end, and it will stay broken until the adversarial interoperator can respond.

But when companies are faced with the prospect of extended asymmetrical war against adversarial interop in the technological trenches, they often surrender. If companies can't sue adversarial interoperators out of existence, they often sue for peace instead. That's because high-tech guerrilla warfare presents unquantifiable risks and resource demands, and, as the scalesplainers never tire of telling us, this can create real operational problems for tech giants.

In other words, if Facebook can't shut down Ethan Zuckerman's browser automation tool in the courts, and if they're sincerely worried that a browser automation tool will uncheck its user interface buttons so quickly that it crashes the server, all it has to do is offer an official "unsubscribe all" button and no one will use Zuckerman's browser automation tool.

We don't have to choose between adversarial interop and interop mandates. The two are better together than they are apart. If companies building and operating DMA-compliant, mandatory gateways know that a failure to make them useful to rivals seeking to help users escape their authority is getting mired in endless hand-to-hand combat with trench-fighting adversarial interoperators, they'll have good reason to cooperate.

And if lawmakers charged with administering the DMA notice that companies are engaging in adversarial interop rather than using the official, reliable gateway they're overseeing, that's a good indicator that the official gateways aren't suitable.

It would be very on-brand for the EU to create the DMA and tell tech companies how they must operate, and for the USA to simply withdraw the state's protection from the Big Tech companies and let smaller companies try their luck at hacking new features into the big companies' servers without the government getting involved.

Indeed, we're seeing some of that today. Oregon just passed the first ever Right to Repair law banning "parts pairing" – basically a way of using IP law to make it illegal to reverse-engineer a device so you can fix it.

https://www.opb.org/article/2024/03/28/oregon-governor-kotek-signs-strong-tech-right-to-repair-bill/

Taken together, the two approaches – mandates and reverse engineering – are stronger than either on their own. Mandates are sturdy and reliable, but slow-moving. Adversarial interop is flexible and nimble, but unreliable. Put 'em together and you get a two-part epoxy, strong and flexible.

Governments can regulate well, with well-funded expert agencies and smart, adminstratable remedies. It's for that reason that the administrative state is under such sustained attack from the GOP and right-wing Dems. The illegitimate Supreme Court is on the verge of gutting expert agencies' power:

https://www.hklaw.com/en/insights/publications/2024/05/us-supreme-court-may-soon-discard-or-modify-chevron-deference

It's never been more important to craft regulations that go beyond mere good intentions and take account of adminsitratability. The easier we can make our rules to enforce, the less our beleaguered agencies will need to do to protect us from corporate predators.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/20/scalesplaining/#administratability

Image: Noah Wulf (modified) https://commons.m.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Thunderbirds_at_Attention_Next_to_Thunderbird_1_-_Aviation_Nation_2019.jpg

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

[lilyliveredlittlerichboy]

it's time now. it's time to imagine the brightest future you can, and talk about it.

a future where people only work 8 hours a week and everyone's basic needs are met. a future where we are more connected to nature and eat seasonal, local produce. a future where you look out for your neighbours and they look out for you. a future where you actually know who your neighbours are. a future where everyone is just a lot more relaxed and able to do whatever they want to do - this 8 hour working week has given people their lives back and now they're able to make community events, work in community gardens, sing and dance and spend time with their kids, play whatever sport they want, travel, read, create art and music.

People are interacting with each other in good faith again because money as an ulterior motive has all but disappeared. Cus you see a few decades ago they made profits illegal. All money has to be put back into the company and CEOs can take home a salary only, no bonuses and it can't be more than 3x what the lowest paid employee makes. You can go to jail if your company is found to make profits, advertise on a large scale or pay its high ranking members more than what's allowed.

Jail still exists but mostly people go in for financial crimes (greed still exists); drugs are decriminalised and available to use safely. people are not as desperate now so there's been a massive reduction of violent and petty crime and most of the people who still do this are teenagers who get away with a slap on the wrist. police are not armed anymore and are heavily penalised if they abuse their power or hurt a civilian, and their role is more that of mediator, signposter (to community services, social services, and free and accessible healthcare including for mental health) and security. together with the former military they make up an "emergency task force" which are called upon in times of need and crisis, for floods, fires, other such disasters.

the stock market completely collapsed after profits were made illegal and people had to find other ways to figure out what a company was worth: such as how they treat their staff or how accessible their processes are. as a result of this, as well as more widespread disability thanks to Covid and an ageing population, accessibility is fucking incredible now. most places are accessible to the vast majority of disabled people even without them having to ask for a single thing. If they have to ask, accommodations are made quickly and without fuss and this is completely normal now. disabled people are more visible than ever in public life and this has led to a generally kinder, more tolerant public life.

Everything is slower now. Social media as we know it died decades ago and Internet 4.0 is efficient, will find you accurate answers and the websites you're looking for very easily and fast. there's monopoly laws restricting how large companies operate online. online ads are all but illegal - there's "phone book" esque pages where you can promote your business or service and that's allowed but not anywhere else. Lots of people are still annoying and some of them are still cruel but overall living together as humans has gotten so much more chill. We've tackled climate change and reversed much of it, now it's a global day of mourning whenever a species is found to be extinct through human intervention. these days used to happen much more frequently but it's very rare these days. Most everyone gets the day off and is encouraged to read about the lost species or hold themed funerals. Globally everything has gotten better - there's much more global equality now after a bunch of western/formerly colonising countries almost self destructed and then instead decided to own up for colonialism, pay reparations to a lot of countries in Africa Asia and Latin America, as well as indigenous nations of North America, Oceania, even in Europe. The USA doesn't exist anymore instead its a whole host of separate nations all managed by the native people whose land it is. The UK doesn't exist anymore. England is still sad about it but Wales, Scotland, Ireland and Cornwall are called Cymru, Alba, Eire and Kernow again and they've formed a Celtic Union for better collective bargaining power in the EU (which still exists, somehow. Its better now. England may still be out of the EU I'm not sure). Migration is common and foreigners are welcomed into any country with open arms.

I may try to write something about this. I have a vision for a future and it's so lovely. Here, on earth, with the starting point being now. We have a lot to work with and only a few changes could make such a difference. Demilitarisation, UBI and maximum working hours, greedy financial practices made illegal. Conservation and education on local plants and nature and food. Community building on every level. Giving people their lives back.

This is all extremely possible. If it were up to me, very little in society would be left unchanged but it would all be people friendly changes. changes that aim to support the poorest and most marginalised, changes that aim to punish greed and exploitation. It's a work in progress of course. But I have a vision for a better world and dammit if I'm not going to share it with you.