#honestly i really do not care if i lose followers over this at this point. i'm tired of this shit.

[raystxntz]

(OOC: I've gone back and forth about making this post, to be completely honest. It's not my intention to stir the pot, it's not my intention to exacerbate the situation any more than it already has, and it's not my intention to make people go on a witch hunt against certain blogs or people should they know the identities behind the blogs. But I was also roleplaying with this person for such a long time that I feel the need to step out and make my opinions on what happened known, in the clearest and most concise way possible. Whoever you are, whether you see this post or not, words cannot describe how ASHAMED I am of you. And I'm a tolerant person by nature, so when I say that shit, I fucking mean it.

I respected your writing. I respected the work that you put into crafting your version of Egon, the commitment that you brought to your plots, and the way you were willing to interact with just about anyone. Which is why it appalls me that you would act like this, and why I am deeply, deeply hurt by it.

I understand being protective of your own interpretation of a character. I understand feeling burnt out on something that you're meant to enjoy. I understand all of those feelings. But at some point, you have to realize that this is a fictional character you are playing and that it is literally not that deep. It is not your place to try and gatekeep someone else's interpretation of a character. It is not your place to consistently bring that issue-an issue of your OWN MAKING-to someone who's been struggling through their own mental health issues for quite some time. Don't like something, don't interact with it. That is the bare minimum of interacting with fan content on the Internet, but apparently you couldn't even follow that rule. This person was simply doing what anyone else would do in the same situation--making the most out of a bad situation--and you chose to drag their name through the mud instead, willingly engaging with their blog when you had already proceeded to block them.

And for saying that you care about the community you had fostered, that you cared about your roleplay partners, you sure did have a funny way of showing it. You left people on read when they were trying to communicate with you about big plots. You even did it to ME a handful of times. You made the choice to have your character be so fucking unapproachable in his demeanor towards others that I and SEVERAL OTHERS actually felt fucking INTIMIDATED to DM you about anything. Look me dead in the fucking eyes and tell me that Harold Ramis would have approved a version of his character being so downright SPITEFUL towards those around him. You can't. Don't even fucking TRY to. And for constantly stressing the importance of communication with other rp blogs, YOU are the one who left people hanging more times than I can reasonably count. YOU are the one who came scarily close to GOD-MODDING other people's characters a handful of times.

I wanted to think of you as a friend. I was willing to give you the benefit of doubt so many fucking times. But seeing how you've served to alienate and hurt other people in this community through your actions? I cannot in good conscience condone that kind of behavior.

If you see this post at ANY point, FIX YOUR SHIT. This entire situation was on you to remedy. You and you alone. By dragging other people into this conflict, by dragging people through the mud to try and fix a problem, you've only made it worse for yourself. And I fucking hope that you take a good long look at your actions and fix them for the better after this entire spectacle.

If anyone knows who I'm referring to, or knows the identity behind them, DO NOT witch-hunt. Do not go to their blog, do not send them hateful anons, do not take any action whatsoever that's harmful in any way. I will not be conducting myself in that manner regardless of this post, and I ask others to do the same. I simply wanted to put my feelings down, and let the community at a large know that I do not condone whatever occurred. This is the only post I'll be making on the matter. Thank you.)

[naughtyjjk]

testing nanami kento’s self-control

characters: nanami x fem reader warnings: 18+, smut, riding, cock tease, edging, orgasm denial, begging, creampie notes: it's just so hot to see a man who's always composed start to break down hehe

whenever nanami comes home, his suit and tie are always in pristine condition, even after a long day of work. there’s never a strand of hair out of place or a speck of dust to be found anywhere. that’s just how he is—precise and focused and meticulous, almost to a fault.

even when you’re undressing him, kissing him, bringing your bodies together, he still manages to be so put together that it’s honestly a little frustrating. it makes you want to tease him to the point of torture and go slow enough that he falls apart. so slow that he begs.

you want to see him lose control. you want to ruin him.

pushing nanami down on the bed, you climb on top of him and grab the lube, slicking his cock with a few strokes. he’s already so hard, flushed red and throbbing in your grasp, desperate for more. when he bucks his hips to try and fuck himself in your fist, you let go completely and tsk at him.

“don’t move,” you say, coaxing him. “let me take care of you today.”

sighing, nanami lies back down, hips going still. you shift yourself so that your pussy is lined up with his cock, using a hand to brush the tip against your folds, never going further than that. this goes on for agonizingly long as you tease the both of you, feeling his hard cockhead poking at your entrance.

you push down a little, applying the slightest of pressure, and hold it there until you hear nanami groan, his cock twitching with arousal. he’s looking at you with lidded eyes, expression dark and hungry. “darling…”

but you only grin and move again, this time almost allowing his cock to slip inside you. almost. so close, but not quite there. you drag the head past your entrance, dipping barely inside, before you lift your hips again. nanami’s breath hitches, chest heaving. he swallows thickly, arms tense by his side, fighting against his instincts to keep himself still.

“ah—f-fuck—”

leaning forward to kiss him, you catch his bottom lip and flick your tongue over it. meanwhile, you spread your legs a bit wider and finally, finally sink down so that the very tip nudges inside you. only the tip. nanami is moaning your name in broken pieces, mixed in with a few curses and whimpers.

then you stop. again.

nanami groans in frustration and his hips jerk up involuntarily, but you were expecting it. you move with him, keeping just the tip of his cock in you, maintaining the position and refusing to let him go any deeper.

“wh-what did i do to deserve this teasing?” nanami asks, looking like he’s about to lose it.

you lick your lips and reply honestly, “you’re always so composed, kento. i want to make you desperate for it, see you completely wrecked for me.”

for a few more seconds, you stay in the same position, unmoving. the stretch of his cock is nice; he’s hardly even really inside you yet, but your pussy is already adjusting to his size, opening up for him. it’s so tempting to take all of him like you’ve done many times in the past, to ride him and bring him straight to the edge. but no. not yet. you have a plan to follow through.

lowering your hips just the slightest, you sink down further, taking more of his cockhead until the crown is almost fully inside. you can feel him throbbing against your walls, wanting more but never getting it.

nanami lets out a broken moan, breath stuttering. “you’re being cruel. how long are you going to make me wait?”

“that,” you say, “depends on how long you can hold out.”

as if to punish him, you raise your hips again, smiling wickedly as you pull away until all of him is resting outside your entrance again. it’s hard for you, too; you miss the feeling of having him inside. but you remind yourself that you’re going slow, as slow as you possibly can. slow so that you can watch nanami break.

nanami groans, low and needy. his hands clench and unclench the bedsheets by his sides. “fuck.”

without warning, you drop down again suddenly, less than an inch just so that you have the tip of his cock in you again. nanami gasps, throwing his head back against the pillow. you take in all the sensations: the messy feeling of lube and precum, the way nanami’s hard cock twitches with desire. how he’s struggling and using every ounce of his willpower to not buck up and thrust into you.

“good boy,” you lean in to whisper right by nanami’s ear, watching with delight as he shudders in response. he’s breathing hard, every muscle in his body tensed up.

you keep him there inside you for what seems like forever. every tiny shift of movement is agonizing and extra sensitive, sending waves of pleasure from where you two connect to the rest of your body. you can tell that nanami also feels it, by the way he’s losing control more and more with each passing second.

and that’s exactly what you want. it’s working. you’re going to break him down piece by piece until he’s nothing but a shaking, writhing, horny mess beneath you.

it’s such a fucking turn on to see nanami’s self-control slipping, breaths growing ragged, waiting in anticipation for whatever you’re willing to give him next. it’s getting hard for you to hold back as well. you let just a tiny bit more of nanami’s cock into your pussy so that all of the head is nestled inside and then you start the shallowest, most torturously slow rhythm you’ve ever done in your life. hardly moving at all, the most miniscule rolls of your hips to take only the tip of his cock over and over again.

up… and down…

up… and down…

“o-oh god,” nanami curses, and he can’t help rocking his hips to follow your rhythm, matching your pace. he knows better now than to try for anything more, knows that you could take it all away from him at any moment.

each time his cock nudges its way back inside you, your pussy clenches around him. tight, like it doesn’t want to let him go. and nanami moans, feeling your walls clamp down on his cock, wishing that he could feel your warmth along the rest of his neglected shaft, too.

he looks delirious now, so fucking aroused with his mouth parted and his eyes hazy and unfocused. his cock throbs and pulses inside you, making him dizzy with pleasure. the shallow thrusts are getting to him, slowly but surely, the sensation building up in tingling layers, bringing him closer to the edge.

honestly, you’re teasing yourself as just much as you’re teasing nanami. with only short strokes of his cock that barely manage to penetrate you, you feel empty, craving for him to hit your deepest parts. on one hand, it’s so fucking hot to drag it out like this, so arousing to see nanami at your mercy. on the other hand, you’re reaching your limit, too.

“beg,” you say. “tell me how badly you need it. let me hear you beg, kento.”

there seems to be an internal battle going on within nanami as he grits his teeth, trying to resist. but it’s futile; you simply keep moving your hips in that slow, steady rhythm until it becomes unbearable and nanami gives in embarrassingly fast, mind clouded with lust.

“hah—p-please, i can’t—fuck, please—”

“mm,” you consider his words. “please what?”

nanami chokes out a moan. “i wanna fuck you—ah, please, your pussy—” he looks at his aching cock, the precum spilling down the sides, the way his cockhead disappears into you. “let me come—i-i need—” then he gasps, “oh shit—”

it’s beyond arousing to hear him like this. in that moment, you don’t let him finish his sentence as something snaps within you and you give in to your own desires. your hips slam down on him without warning, burying all of his cock inside you in a single, rapid movement.

an intense wave of pleasure rushes through both of you, every nerve ending igniting at once. you moan, overwhelmed. you’re filled so deep and so fast that it takes a second for you to return to your senses. and nanami—fuck, the sound he makes, low and guttural, a stuttering, broken moan that should be illegal. his abdomen clenches, thighs shaking. it’s only one full thrust, but you can tell that he almost came right then and there.

“fuck.” his voice sounds destroyed, fucked out. chest heaving, he wants so badly to buck his hips into you until he’s spilling his release into you. it won’t take much more to get him there. but he very carefully doesn’t move, still following your orders, still being good.

“k-kento,” you whine, staying there, the sensation of his cock pulsing and splitting you open driving you dangerously close to orgasm as well. you don’t dare to move until the pleasure simmers down into something more manageable, until you’re sure that you’ve fallen away from the edge.

that’s when you draw your hips up again. still going slow, so fucking slow that it almost breaks you—but it breaks nanami too, and that’s what you’re aiming for.

by this point, nanami’s composure has completely crumbled. he’s resigned himself to the torture as you restart the aching, brutally slow thrusts. the tip of his cock dips into you, as far as the crown of his cockhead, and then pulls out almost all the way. again and again and again.

you’re dripping wet, the teasing against your pussy reaching an unbearable degree. there’s nothing you want more than to take nanami fast and deep, to feel him hitting your most sensitive spots instead of just playing with the entrance. but you almost have nanami where you want him and you’re betting on him to give in first.

“please—ah, m-more—” nanami cries out, breathy and horny and frustrated, trembling from the effort of holding himself back.

you keep the same pace, not giving him what he wants. keeping him just on the edge of satisfaction, waiting him out. and it’s infinitely worse now that you’ve both had a taste of what you could be getting instead.

your hips move up. then down.

then up again.

the crown of his cockhead catches and releases from your pussy, delicious friction causing your head to spin. nanami’s neck is arched, looking at you with narrow eyes, aroused beyond his limits.

“f-fuck, fuck,” he rambles nonsensically, body so tense. “please—let me—i’m—i need—let me inside you—i c-can’t take it anymore—”

“just a little longer,” you tell him, and nanami groans. “you can hold out for a few more minutes, can’t you? be a good boy for me.”

those words make a desperate, wrecked sound escape from his lips and his self-control is slipping, slipping, slipping. he’s turning wild under you now, squirming, writhing, frenzied and starved for his release. your own willpower is dissolving at the sight of nanami’s desperation.

your hips descend on his cock again, clenching tight around the tip. nanami sucks in a sharp breath.

up, agonizingly slow, leaving him throbbing at the loss of contact. this time, you let out a moan, feeling so empty. god, it’s not enough for you either, not nearly fucking enough.

“need you—n-need to feel you,” nanami pleads, whimpering, chanting your name over and over. “please, please, i’m close—fuck, i’m so—”

he’s panting, cock twitching madly, and this —this is exactly what you had been waiting for the whole time: nanami completely ruined, nanami undone by your actions, nanami looking at you with pure hunger and lust, overtaken by arousal. he seems to be right on the edge of pleasure, so close to tipping over, body burning with an orgasm held at bay. you’re sure that when you finally allow him to come, it’ll be ecstasy like he’s never felt before, coming harder than he ever has in his life.

and that’s the end of your limits. you can’t deny either of you any longer.

you slam your hips down all at once, plunging nanami’s hard, aching cock inside you.

“ah—!”

“f-fuuuck—”   

nanami moans, loud and guttural and absolutely wrecked. it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. his cock splits you open, so hard and thick, and you fall forward on his chest as your pussy spasms around him.

the sensation is entirely overwhelming, your mind going blank, pleasure jolting along your nerves tenfold, having built up by the teasing and denial.

“o-oh god,” nanami pants. he bends his knees to drive his cock even deeper inside you, and the change in angle makes you fucking delirious. “good, so good—”

you’re all out of patience. there’s no more waiting, no more drawing this out.

looking at nanami, you say, “kento. take what you need. make yourself come.” you swirl your hips in a circular motion, feeling his cock hitting every corner inside you, and both of you moan at the same time. “fuck me.”

something sparks in nanami’s eyes, washed over by a fresh wave of arousal. before you know it, he’s flipped the two of you over so that you’re now lying on your back and he’s propped up above you. his eyes stare into yours, so intense, and that’s when you know: he’s going to devour you.

with a growl, nanami begins to move, pulling out his cock just enough to shove it back into you. hard and fast and so, so fucking deep. your mouth parts but no sound comes out. you can’t think straight; your pussy feels so full, stretched tight around his aching cock.

“kento—kento—”

but nanami isn’t listening to you anymore. he’s so wound up, so fucking turned on beyond reason, that he can’t hold back anymore. he starts thrusting wildly and unrestrained using short, quick rolls of his hips to drive his cock into you. each inch that enters you burns with pleasure and the room fills with the filthy sounds of your moans, of nanami pounding his cock into you again and again.

“this is payback,” he says, voice low and raspy. it makes you shudder to think about what he has in store for you. “i'm gonna—hah—gonna fuck you until you scream. fill you up with my come. shit, and i won’t stop until you’re coming on my cock like the naughty fucking girl you are.”

nanami’s hips are stuttering but his pace never falters. his next thrust hits that sweet spot inside you, making you arch off the bed and gasp, sparks of pleasure dancing along your spine. and now that nanami has found it, he aims there every time, knowing how sensitive it is, how it brings you that much closer to the edge.

moaning, it’s all you can to do keep up with the brutal thrusts. your stomach coils, orgasm building and building, threatening to take over your body. it feels so fucking good. nanami’s cock is pushing deep inside you, hard and fast, pulsing against your walls, stretching you open. he uses a hand to find your clit, rubbing tight circles around the swollen nub, and you cry out, hips bucking up to chase the sensation, clenching around his cock on instinct.

“oh—fuck, k-kento, i'm—i'm coming—”

the pleasure crests and your arousal spikes. you know that you won’t be able to endure it for much longer. and nanami is right there with you, thrusts turning erratic and desperate.

“m-me too,” he says, grunting. “come. don’t hold back. come for me, baby.”

one, two more thrusts and you’re moaning his name, body convulsing in waves. nanami fucks you through it, sending aftershocks to your nerves, and then he’s coming too, releasing everything that’s built up inside of him in spurts. he’s loud when he comes, mouth next to your ear; louder than you’ve ever heard him, riled up by all the teasing. his cock twitches inside you and his hips slow, eventually go still.

god, it’s so damn hot that it almost makes you want to fuck him all over again.

for a moment, both of you lie there, catching your breaths. then nanami pulls out slowly, careful not to overstimulate you. he holds you like that and you melt in his arms, all the strength leaving your body.

“next time,” nanami says, sounding defeated, “you’re going to be the one begging for it.”

.

tag list: @megumisdivinedogs @urlilwhore @l0rdgeosupport3rr @purple-obsidian @l0rdgeosupport3rr @minni-creations @fos-tis-zois @the-reas0n-is-y0u @cantfeelherface @rxmbzzz @lysaray @zelzablues @str4wbrrycandy @that-goth-bisexual @simping4u @iminlovewqr0w @sharks31 @pseudowho @jisoonunn @outkasti @anathemaspeaks @fushigur0slut4 @barryatsumu

(comment to be added/removed)

[silentcryracha]

❍ ‗ Showering with Bang Chan ‗ ❍

Pairing : Bang Chan x f reader

Summary : chapter one of a cute standalone miniseries. It's what it says in the title

Genre/ Warnings : scenario/imagine/headcanon, drabble, nudity and suggestive themes involved but no smut fluff, literally ONE angst word, domestic!, channie best boyfriend idc

Word count : 500

A/n : none

ps: There could be grammar errors. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎

masterlist

series masterpost

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Imagine showering with Chan. It could either go very chill or very *exciting*. Usually starts with the first and follows with the second BUT- just in general it would be such an intimate time. The possibilities are endless to be honest.

You came to a certain point in your relationship in which you were a hundred percent comfortable with each other. And most importantly loved doing things for each other!

"Can you massage in the conditioner for me?" "Of course baby"

You'd both help the other, moving your hands up and down each other's bodies, often giving small massages and relaxing the tense muscles. Chan especially just melts whenever you touch him, two of his favorite spots bing his neck and shoulders.

"Oh my Gosh that hurts so good" he whines as your fingers work his aching neck, basically turned marble from being bent over a laptop all day.

"It hurts or it's nice, which one is it?" you tease him, chuckling. He groans slightly, almost too gone to even answer.

"Shush. Mmh, both. I don't know, just keep going" his head first leaning forward then back, almost touching your shoulder.

You'd relax together, getting all soapy and wet under the hot water. Sometimes just lazily hugging and making out, losing track of time.

"We should get out, it's getting so hot I think I may pass out" you murmur against his swollen lips. He starts kissing your neck instead, humming.

"You flatter me too much" it takes you a second to let sink in what he just said, but when it did, you lightly slapped his naked shoulder, snorting a laugh.

"Stupid" he smiled, chuckling cheekily, and you could literally feel it on your skin.

Sometimes it was a matter of saving time instead of having fun, though. Maybe one morning you were both running late so while he was shaving you were also shaving, or washing your hair. Or vice versa honestly.

And other times again you even had small arguments while showering. Nothing really major because it wasn't exactly appropriate to pour out your feelings while being literally naked and wet, but a few times it did happen.

It usually either ended up being interrupted and finishing once you were both dry and ready to go at each other, or literally be the calming moment you needed to clear things up.

"I'm sorry if i was an asshole earlier" he rests his forehead on the nape of your neck, wrapping his arms around you. You sigh, placing your hands on his jointed ones.

"I know you're very stressed" you start, turning your head to the side searching for his, "But thanks for the apology nonetheless"

"I love you", he nuzzled his nose on your cheek.

"I love you too" you pecked him on the lips as a confirmation you forgave him.

Anyways lots of cuddles and massages and kisses and stuff!! Chan king of caring for his partner 100% <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[btsvt-bar]

off my face

pairing ꩜ fuckboy!wonwoo x afab!reader

sequel to this drabble, read it first to understand their dynamics ♡

warnings ꩜ smut, mdni!, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, belly cumshot.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

fuckboy!wonwoo who’s obviously whipped, but won't admit to it. when you say your hookup was a one time thing, he gets lowkey upset, but pretends he doesn’t care.

fuckboy!wonwoo who stops following you around like a puppy. he misses being around you, but he’s stubborn and decides it’s for the best if he takes some time away to get over you.

fuckboy!wonwoo who gets really drunk at this one frat party and kisses some random girl. in his head, he pretends it’s you. however, it’s not as good as it was with you on your night together.

you see the pathetic scene from across the room and roll your eyes at him. if you’re being honest, you expected him to chase after you. so you’re kinda disappointed when he walked away.

Nayeon sees your sour expression and nudges you lightly. "You should’ve told him how you feel" your sunbae comments while you take a large sip from your beer.

"He’s not interested, I chose well when I decided to keep my mouth shut" you reply before turning your back, deciding you had enough of Wonwoo drama for the night.

fuckboy!wonwoo who scans the room to see if you were watching. He feels his blood boiling when the realizes you’re chatting with his friend DK at some secluded corner.

fuckboy!wonwoo who leaves the party. You really ruined the night for him.

fuckboy!wonwoo who locks himself in his room for the rest of the weekend. It’s been a while since he played so much videogames, but he needed the distraction.

fuckboy!wonwoo who sees you walking around campus with DK by your side. he feels so fucking jealous when he sees you laughing and smiling so cutely at Dokyeom.

It’s Friday night and you’re at another frat party. You’re outside chilling with DK by the pool, with your legs inside the warm water.

"Have you noticed he’s obsessed with you?" DK points out, grabbing your attention from whatever Mina was saying.

"Who?" You play dumb.

"Wonwoo" the brunette sips from his cup. "He can’t stop looking our way".

You shrug. "He doesn’t care, he’s made it clear".

DK scoffs, sporting an incredulous look. "You don’t possibly believe that".

"I do" you try to convince yourself more than DK.

"Want me to prove you wrong?" DK smiled slyly. "How about we kiss? You’ll see he’ll lose his shit".

You analyze the boy by your side, from his prominent nose, cute crescent-shaped eyes and large smile. Dokyeom is handsome, eager to kiss you and you honestly would like to kiss him too.

"I’m not a home wrecker" you say, thinking about preserving DK’s and Wonwoo’s friendship.

"We don’t live together." That’s all it takes for you to throw your best sense out the window and pull DK in for a heated kiss.

fuckboy!wonwoo who sees the exact moment you kiss his friend. He lets his beer cup fall from his hand, wetting his and Jeonghan’s sneakers.

"What the fuck?!"

Jeonghan follows his gaze and lets out an amused laugh. "Looks like our Kyeomie got what we all wanted!"

fuckboy!wonwoo who gets up early the next morning and goes straight to your dorm. He spent the night raging and came to realize he likes you and wants to be with you.

fuckboy!wonwoo who knocks on your dorm door and wakes you up. Your hair’s disheveled and your eyes are barely open when you answer it.

"Wonwoo? Did something hap-"

"I like you, Y/N. I really, really, like you and it killed me to see you with someone else last night" he cuts you off and spits out his confession before he could chicken out.

You blink slowly, your face scrunched up in a confused expression. "You what?"

"I like you. I lied when I said that night was a one time thing for me, because it wasn’t. I only said that because you said it first".

"I only said that because I thought that’s what you wanted". You notice some people are crowding the hallway, listening to your conversation. "It’s better if you come in".

fuckboy!wonwoo who shuts the door behind him. Your roommate is nowhere to be seen, and it makes him feel more comfortable.

"Look, me kissing DK meant nothing. It was a dumb idea, I didn’t want to hurt you".

"It’s ok. I was — well, am — jealous, but it’s ok" His cheeks tint red at his confession. "But you can make it up to me".

fuckboy!wonwoo who basically jumps you when you allow him to. He gets you both naked in no time, sliding between your legs and kissing down your body.

fuckboy!wonwoo who eats you out diligently, licking and sucking on your lower lips and clit with enough expertise to make you see white in no time. He keeps teasing your fluttering whole with his thick fingers, but never gives you what you want.

fuckboy!wonwoo who can’t wait to get inside you and turns down a blowjob. "We can do that later" he promises and he positions himself at your entrance.

He pushes in slowly, making you both moan out loud. You’re sure everyone is listening to what you’re doing, but you honestly don’t give a damn.

When Wonwoo bottoms out, his hips move hard and quickly.

fuckboy!wonwoo who grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers. You smile brightly and, with your free hand, pulls he in for a loving kiss.

fuckboy!wonwoo who makes you cum first before letting himself go. He pulls out and empties his balls on your stomach, you’re so spent that you don’t even mind.

He falls by your side on your small bed, sparing a few moments to catch his breath. He lays so still you think he fell asleep, but he sits up and asks "Do you have wet wipes?"

fuckboy!wonwoo who cleans you up and helps you get dressed again. He puts his dark blue boxers back on and cuddles you, feeling his eyelids weighting a thousand pounds.

"Nonu?" you call him by the nickname only you used. "Yeah, pretty?"

"What are we?" you ask with a shy tone. You needed to be sure, so you could rest. Wonwoo gets up on his elbow to look at you before answering:

"Boyfriend and girlfriend." He states. "But give me a few hours so I can ask you properly. You deserve something better than this".

fuckboy!wonwoo who nearly melts down when you smile so prettily at him. You kiss him again, feeling super happy.

Wonwoo lays down again and pulls you close to his chest, almost instantly falling asleep with you on his arms.

fuckboy!wonwoo who sneaks out to buy flowers, chocolate and a huge bear so he can officially ask you out.

The next day, everyone is talking about how the shy angel managed to tame the infamous fuckboy.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

© btsvt-bar, 2024

m.list ♡

[hollowdeath]

i recently came across your blog and i’m literally in love

i’m here because i can’t stop thinking about (adult) soft dom harry that tries to stay gentle but can’t hold himself back :(( brainrot is real

honestly do what u will with this i’m just happy to share it

AAA now you're speakin my language here !!! i will GLADLYYY sit here all day n think abt this one…

content warning: smut!!!! oral sex, penetration, 18+

word count: 750

soft dom harry who wants to let you know he's in the mood by asking you if you'd like a back rub, a foot massage, anything where he can just get his hands on you…once he does he can't help but let his hands wander, his lips following soon after, and he'd quickly get carried away and have you covered in bites before you even realize it…

harry would be so eager to get your clothes off he'd nearly rip them off you as you giggle, telling him to slow down with a teasing voice. he'd be a bit ashamed at first, apologizing with a shy smile before being more careful with you, savoring the feeling of taking your clothes off of you. but if your panties are in the way, he feels no remorse in roughly ripping them off of you to get what he wants.

everyone already knows how i feel about harry and oral…he'll be soooo teasingly slow with you at first, loving the way you squirm and beg for more just before he completely loses himself in your pussy. he'll overstimulate you after you already came to the point of desperation, practically having to push him away from you just to get a moment of rest. he'd still want more, sometimes even convincing you to let him keep going despite your exhaustion. but it's okay because he lovesss to tell you just how much of a good girl you were afterwards, praising you endlessly while holding you close to him to calm down your trembling body.

or, if you gave harry oral, he'd hold your face with his hand as you got started. "so pretty," he'd tell you, encouraging you with his moans and praise. soon he'd get lost in the pleasure, his hand traveling from your cheek to your hair as he starts gently moving it out of the way for you. before long he has all of it completely wrapped around his hand, using it to push your head a bit faster and deeper onto him. his hips would thrust into your mouth out of desperation and cause you to gag. pulling your hair back, he'd carefully make sure you were okay, really okay, before pushing your mouth back onto his cock with the same force as before.

harry being afraid to hurt you as you adjust to his cock inside of you, carefully watching your facial expressions as he slowly pushes deeper into you, the hunger in him growing the longer he looks at you. after you start moaning, whimpering, grabbing for harry's shoulders, he knows you're enjoying yourself and starts to let his guard down, thrusting at a consistent pace before pulling you in for a heated kiss. from there he just falls apart, his grip on you bruising the skin, his thrusts aggressive and sloppy, his teeth sinking into your neck in the most vulnerable places. he's like an animal just chasing his high, using you for his pleasure.

you try not to whimper too loud because then harry comes out of his state of bliss, realizing how aggressive he's being with you before slowing back down. you'd always beg him please, please harry, it's okay, because you secretly love how overcome with lust he gets with you. but he really doesn't want to hurt you, so he tries to stay focused, but we know he just can't help himself…as soon as his eyes droop closed you know he's desperate again, burying his head in your neck as he practically growls into your skin. "fuck, [y/n], feel so good…"

it's not long before harry's pounding into you, waves of pleasure taking over his body. sweating, gasping for breath, hands digging into your hips as he warns you that he's about to cum. sometimes he's aware enough to pull out and finish on you, but other times he's truly so lost in the moment that he cums inside you, his hips flush with yours as you savor the sensation. though he's always a bit flustered afterwards, making sure to ask you plenty of times if you're okay, or if he hurt you, or if you need anything. once he knows you're good, he'll instantly start getting ready for round two because he just can't get enough of you.

[thankyouthankyouthankyou for sending this in, this is pretty much exactly what all of my daydreams of harry consist of lol]

[theamberfist]

Like Father, Like Child | Part 4 | Alastor x Exorcist! Reader

Familial! Alastor + Exorcist! Adopted Child! Reader

Description: When an angry mob comes knocking at the hotel's door, Alastor is more than prepared to defend his kid. And, as it turns out, so is said kid.

(Notes: CW Alastor, mentions of murder, fallen angels) (gender neutral reader) (reader is Alastor's adopted child from when they were alive) (Final part of Like Father, Like Child)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

You blinked, letting what you'd just witnessed on TV sink in. Not only did all of hell know you, an exorcist, was here now, but it seemed an entire angry mob had gathered under the command of that TV-headed demon to come and kill you. Amazing.

"...Maybe they'll lose interest before they get here?" Angel Dust said, reminding you that he was still there sitting beside you. On your other side, Vaggie didn't seem to think that outcome was very likely with the worried expression on her face. 

"I'll go warn Charlie." She decided finally, getting up from the couch and leaving the room before you could even say anything else.

"Angel," you spoke, turning to the spider-like demon with a serious tone now, "Tell me honestly; how bad is it?" You weren't familiar with the sinners in hell so you really weren't sure how brutal they could be about things like this yet. Would they really kill you just because they'd found out you were a fallen exorcist? 

There was a bang at the door, followed up by a series muffled shouts. You winced at the sound, realizing your time was likely up now and that the mob had arrived. "On a scale of one to ten?" Angel asked and you nodded, turning back to him eagerly as you hoped he'd reassure you, "an eleven." So much for reassurance. 

"I'm so dead," You groaned, pulling your knees up and burying your face in them. You didn't have much time to dwell on your fast-approaching demise, though, because another familiar voice spoke behind you. 

"Nonsense, darling!" It was Alastor, and the second you heard him you snapped up, looking over at the deer-like overlord. "If that pathetic mob of sinners think they can break into this hotel and harm one of its guests, they clearly need to be taught a lesson." he didn't add the unspoken fact that that resident was also his kid, but he didn't need to; you knew it was the main reason he seemed so upset.

"Since when have you cared about any of us?" Angel asked in confusion, pointing to you, "They just got here, like, ten minutes ago!"

"All the more reason to ensure they're left alone!" Your dad replied as he straightened his bow-tie and then began heading for the front door. 

"W-wait, what are you going to do?" You asked, calling after him. He paused for just a brief moment, glancing your way with the sinister smile you'd come to expect from him now. 

"Nothing they won't have deserved." And with that, he seemed to blink right out of sight and the sounds of screaming outside became louder. Only, now, they weren't screams demanding you to come out; they were screams of pain as the sinners begged him to stop whatever he was doing. 

Your jaw dropped as you stayed frozen on the couch. You weren't sure what to do. Angel seemed to notice your concern because he just waved the situation off. 

"Eh, don't worry, toots." He told you, turning back to the TV, which was playing his favorite show again. "I know you're an angel and all, but smiles has killed plenty of people so this is nothing new. Trust me, it ain't your problem." He had expected you to give up and turn back to the TV too, but instead, you stood from the couch and headed for the nearest set of stairs, determined to see just what your dad was doing with the screaming sinners outside. 

"Hey, where ya going?" Angel called, "You'll miss the finale!"

"Record it for me!" You called before running up the stairs as fast as you could. Angel sighed but shrugged as he hit the record button and then continued watching his show. 

Meanwhile, you finally made it as high-up as the stairs would allow, reaching a balcony somewhere on the second floor. There, you looked out at the carnage your dad was currently causing. He'd grown a lot bigger than he was inside the hotel before and black tentacles extended from his body, grabbing various sinners and tossing them into his mouth to eat. The sight was more than a little terrifying, but at the same time, you wanted to follow after him.

Even if your dad was a know killer, and even if you were supposed to have been an angel, something inside you didn't want to make him do this alone. You wanted to help; especially since you knew he was out there killing people for your sake. 

But as a former angel, shouldn't you have known better than to fall to your own murderous urges? You'd been dealing with them all your life and afterlife so you couldn't give in now. 

"Fallen angel?" A voice to your right spoke suddenly and you practically jumped out of your skin, turning to see...Lucifer? It was undoubtedly the king of hell; sitting and drinking tea out of what looked like a duck-themed cup as he gazed at Alastor's actions. Remembering the story of what happened to him, you couldn't help but relate a bit as you finally relaxed and then nodded.

"...Yeah." You turned to look back at your dad, who had now grabbed a huge group of sinners and was biting their heads off like it was candy. Your face scrunched in disgust at the sight but Lucifer seemed either unbothered by it or too bothered to be bothered anymore. "And I'm assuming you know him?" He asked, pointing to your dad. You nodded awkwardly. 

"Yeah...We're related," You admitted reluctantly. You weren't sure why Alastor had been hesitant to tell everyone about you being his kid, but maybe it was to avoid a situation like the one you were in right now. 

"Yeesh," Lucifer replied as he took another sip of his tea, "That's gotta be rough. No wonder you feel from heaven too."  You paused at that; surprised by how he wasn't even questioning you.

"What am I...Supposed to do now?" You asked after a second. Lucifer froze, glancing back at you in surprise. 

"You're asking me?"

"I guess." You admitted with a shrug, "You fell once too, didn't you?" After a moment he nodded, setting his cup down on the table. 

"Whatever you want, I suppose." He told you, "I always wanted human souls to have free will, which is how we ended up in this shithole in the first place." He stood, leaning against the balcony as the sounds of more screams filled the air from the Radio Demon's actions, "You can try to get back into heaven or just...Exist." He seemed pretty deflated as he leaned half his body over the railing now; practically falling off.

Still, you considered his words. Do whatever you wanted, huh? 

You'd tried to avoid killing, no matter how much you wanted to, for your entire life. Now, you were dead and you'd already killed countless sinners for the 'greater good,' and permanently, at that. You'd ended up in hell already, so it wasn't like anything mattered anymore.

So what did you want to do? 

You paused, contemplating the question for a moment before finally coming to a decision. You turned back to the king of hell with a bright smile once your mind was made up. "Thanks, Lucifer." His expression seemed to soften at that and a smile even made its way onto his face.

"No problem," he told you genuinely, "I'm always happy to help a young sinner and-" He cut himself off when you turned and jumped right off the hotel balcony into the bloodshed. From there, you seemed to instinctively figure out whatever powers you might have had, either from being an angel or being fallen, and began assisting Alastor in killing off the crowd of demons around the building. "-enable their murderous behavior..." Lucifer finished his sentence with a regretful sigh. Why did he even bother with these sinners again?

Meanwhile, you felt more exhilarated than you'd been since before you died. It turned out you had some sort of light-related power. You could shoot small beams of white light from your hands, blasting holes right through sinners like a laser. It probably wouldn't kill them permanently, but the memory and pain would be enough to stop them from ever coming after you again.

Being down there and fighting sinners was one of the most natural moments you'd experienced in a while. You supposed it came from being the child of a literal overlord, but it couldn't have been more fun. Alastor seemed to notice your presence on the impromptu battlefield now too because one of his tentacles gently reached down, picked you up, and then placed you on his giant shoulder. 

"It seems the power of a former exorcist is quite useful, isn't it, darling?" He asked before throwing another five sinners into his mouth. 

"Sure is!" You replied with a smile that rivaled even your dad's, "I can see why you became an overlord now; this is the best!" Alastor's own grin only widened at that; pride swelling in his chest. Most of the sinners were gone now thanks to both his power and your angelic laser beams, but there was one still nearby that caught his attention. 

Vox attempted to scramble away but wasn't fast enough; being plucked from the ground by Alastor's hand. He hadn't even needed a tentacle to grab the TV demon and now he simply held him by the back of his shirt for the both of you to see. 

"Now, this is who brought this crowd here today." He informed you, even though you already knew. Alastor glanced at you, still on his shoulder. "Would you care to do the honors?" 

You brightened at that, immediately nodding. "I'd love to!" Alastor cackled, turning back to the terrified Vox.

"Let it be known," he said, "That this is what happens when you mess with the Radio Demon or his child!" Alastor was more than aware of the fact that there were likely cameras on you three right now, figuring what better way to announce his relation to you? With that out of the way, you shot a laser beam at Vox, melting through his body and then his head, ensuring it would be a long time before he finally regenerated. 

Once you were done, Alastor turned and chucked Vox's temporarily-dead body across the entirety of Pentagram City; you weren't even sure where it ended up landing. 

Your dad began to shrink back to his normal size now, gently placing you on the ground nearby to ensure you didn't get hurt. Once he was back to normal, he turned to you with the widest smile. 

"Very well done, my dear!" He exclaimed with nothing but pride, "I didn't think you had it in you, but it seems we'll make a hellish overlord out of you yet!" You laughed as his hand gently ruffled your hair, feeling all the anger and grief you'd once held towards him melt away. It seemed embracing your murderous tendencies really had done wonders for your emotional state. 

"Thanks, dad." You replied, hugging the deer-like demon for the first time in many years. His smile somehow widened even more as he pulled you closer, ignoring the surprised looks of the hotel guests, who'd come out now to see if the fight was over. 

"Dad?!" Angel repeated in shock. Meanwhile, Charlie and Vaggie were too stunned to speak. Cherry seemed to not know what to think of it, Nifty was beyond touched by the scene, and Husk couldn't even be surprised by any of Alastor's actions anymore. 

"Would you call this...A reverse redemption?" Lucifer asked, leaning over to his own daughter and feeling slightly responsible for the horror he'd just released upon hell through you. She didn't reply but you and Alastor both turned back to the hotel now, heading over to the group as if this was the most casual situation.

"Now, how about I make some jambalaya?" Alastor suggested as your eyes immediately lit up. 

"That was my favorite when I was alive!"

"It sure was!" Alastor agreed, tapping your head with his radio-cane as you smiled. As you walked past the rest of the hotel guests, they all remained frozen in shock. 

"Is this ever not gonna be weird?" Angel asked no one in particular. He hadn't expected to receive a response, but then you called from inside.

"Probably not!" After that, all that followed was the sound of yours and your father's combined laughter.

Like father, like child. 

……….

Tags for those who requested: @avitute @deadgirldreaming

[catfern]

nsfw alphabet w ellie

pairing: ellie williams x reader

music: me and your mama - childish gambino

word count: 3.1k (whoops)

warnings: strap usage, masturbation, A VIBRATOR?? (briefly), possessiveness, slightly pervy!ellie, worship / praise kink mentioned, predator / prey kink mentioned, this is just porn.

an: the nsfw alphabet is all i know. i see it in my sleep. seriously i planned on doing this for ellie but i didn't expect i'd go this quickly. at least now i know the alphabet off by heart (i didn't know it before im dumb dumb stupid)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

ellie is all. for. it. she goes all out even. she knows she can be rough, she has self awareness, and she is hyper aware of just how fragile you can be. she needs to take care of you. she’ll run a bath, light some candles, or let you slip your full body weight on her as you doze in and out, sleeping through your orgasm(s). it doesn’t matter, anything that brings you from that fuzzy, pussydrunk slut that she loves to torment back to her kind, loving girl is anything worth doing.

she’ll sit on the side of the cold porcelain bath, stroking the muscle aches out of your legs and taking the care to run the warm water along your lower belly. she’ll watch as your breathing slows, your head sinking slowly. and then she’ll carry you to bed, hide you away under the blankets to recover from the reckoning that is her.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

ellie is in love with your hips. it’s a perfect anchor point for her hands when she’s holding you, obsessing over you. she feels along the sculpt of them with her finger tips, memorising the bone structure, the softness of the skin. she’ll sketch them in her journal, rough and undefined, obsessive and raspy. She is obsessed! She’ll hold onto them as she moves her way up and down your body, pressing wet kisses from chest to navel. she'll press small bruises into the sides as she loses herself in your cunt, trying desperately to hold onto to the tangible reality of you.

honestly? ellie really likes her arms. she was always seen as this scrawny little snot-nosed kid, so growing up and growing into her stocky frame, broad shoulders and toned arms, it’s something she’s proud of. and of course, her arms lift you up against the wall, her arms drive the power as she stretches her fingers in your walls. so of course, her arms are a fan-favourite as well.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

god, ellie is savage.

your cum is sweet, a nectar on her lips worth tasting. she’ll lick her way up your inner thigh, tasting you like wine. she’ll bring her fingers to her lips, sucking the white lace with a fervour, your smell all over her, in all of her senses. there’s no escaping you, your taste. it’s almost unnatural, otherworldly, the hold you have on her when her head is between your legs. she is both briefly and forever yours, bound to you through the sickening sweetness of your slick.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

i mean… ellie is a switch.

she tries her HARDEST to never let it show. she is, after all, the protector, the big tough fighter who swings unrestrained at anyone who looks at you with malice. but.

she just loves you so so much. and you’re so.. so.. beautiful.

it’s really mean of ANYONE to assume she wouldn’t swallow her pride and fall on her knees for you, with soft hands and pleas to let her in and let her taste you. she actually really really loves when you’re a tease, and you’re a little confident. she loves it because she can find her place so easily in your shadow, following you like a lovesick puppy, ready to do anything you want her to. hold her hand and take her anywhere, she’d follow willingly and with a little grin.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

she’s definitely on the more experienced side of things. she’s a slut what who said that?! nah, she fucks around, she likes to try things out! so when she finally finally lands you, she knows her way around. she likes to brag about how little time it took for her to figure you out, but honestly, it’s not like you were hiding anything. she definitely shows off her experience in how confidently she fucks you, in how relentlessly she ignores your pleas to stop because she knows you’re just sensitive and she knows you can go another round.

Shh, babe, you can take it. I know you can.

Just shut up and let me make you feel good. You know I can, stop fucking around.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

ellie is all about having you in her lap. your legs spread, wrapped around her torso as she holds you, buries herself in your neck as her fingers dive inside you. feeling the way your ass grinds against her thighs as you beg for release, for friction against your puffy clit. fuck, and the access (!!) it gives her to your tits, to palm them, grab at the fat and grip them, pulling at your nipples roughly to send soft stings down your spine. holding onto the small of your back as you throw your head back, anchoring you to her as if there were no real separation.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

ellie is a class-A shithead, and it’s really no different during sex. she’s a tease, she likes to poke fun at you, especially if you’re laying, dazed and fucked out.

Aw, look at you. Jeez, you really can’t take much, can you? 

She’s really just an asker of questions, especially when she knows you don’t really have the words to string an answer together. This can be serious or teasing, but either way, it’s ellie reminding you just exactly why you put up with her ratbag attitude. 

What did you say, babe? Speak up, I can’t hear you.

Tell me how you like it or we won’t keep going.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

ellie does not give one single, flying fuck what she looks like downstairs. as long as it’s not unruly, and doesn’t get in the way, she’s fine with it. in fact, does she even understand the concept of being completely bare? absolutely not. it’s ridiculous in her mind. a waste of time. she trims back only the necessary, to look and keep relatively clean.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

she’s never read any romance, or watched any romance. she’s not a consumer of romantic media but god, does she hit every fucking mark when she wants to. the soft, tender kisses, the slow hands, the praise. she can be very romantic when she wants to be, when the pendulum of her personality is sitting perfectly between her two extremes; her warm infatuation and her cold command.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

ellie got off to you way before anything romantic happened, shamefully. Just ask her journal. She’d hunch over it at night, in such unnatural and possessive form, obsessing over the peek of your stomach she saw that day, or the curve of your waist as you walked. Or more often than not, she’d piece together how you looked under all those layers, drawn in harsh charcoal lines. daydreaming about what it would feel like to have your hands on her legs, ghosting their way into her thighs. how it would be to have you under her, those perfect tits bouncing at her command as she thrusts her fingers, slick with your imagined cum, inside you.

after you two got together though, she’d snapshot every piece of you in surprising detail, shoving her hand in her pants at the memory of you. at everything she got to do to you, to do to the body she daydreamed about.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

ellie is the duality of man. she most definitely has a worship and praise kink, it goes with her obsessive side. she has painted you in every crevice of her being, and sees you in her peripheral vision by design. you’re everywhere she is, so naturally, she worships you. you, a deity, her, a disciple, she’ll kiss you tenderly, on her knees as she sings praise in your ear. and the moment you return it, with kind words and you’re so good, baby, thank you. FUCK. she’s all over you, gently, but passionately, worshipping every part of you like you were pieced together solely to be god’s divine on earth.

when she’s less obsessive, she’s possessive. hers, hers, hers. she would keep you all to herself if she could, it’s all she really thinks about. i feel like ellie would definitely develop a bit of a predator / prey kink (@bambiesfics her fic is the direct inspo) because of her primal need to have you, to cage you. you belong to no one else, and you’re hers to do with what she pleases, which is always making sure you feel perfect.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

gonna repeat myself AGAIN! when you get involved with ellie williams, you are all hers. there’s absolutely no sharing, no showing, no knowing. she’ll fuck you in the house, all doors locked, all curtains closed. one hand over your mouth, the other stretching your walls viciously, there’s absolutely no aspect of you that she’s willing to escape to the eyes and ears of others.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

a dress. any dress. going commando, having no bra, bending over, grinding on her, dancing on her, the list goes on, but we’d be here all night if i were to do that. seriously, just you, but especially you in a sluttier form. keeping certain parts of yourself uninhibited, all for her, or at least she likes to think that. god. one time you wore nothing but an apron LORD. that really was all for her. any time you’re willing do anything just for her and no one else, the knot ever so tightens in her stomach.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

ellie would never hurt you. there’s a little leeway, with a light slap to keep you focused, or the absolute abuse she hurls at your ass and cunt when she has the opportunity, but really, truly, properly hurting you. she knows that some people really like it! but she could never. you’re too precious to her, it hurts her soft side too much to let it slide. she is that big strong man, after all. she’s gotta protect what’s hers.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

ellie is all about the giving (service sub much!!). she loves the sounds you make, the feeling of your legs clamping around her head like a gilded cage she begged to be in. and god, is she good at her job. she’s gentle most of the time , takes her time, listens to the softest of moans that slip through your lips, feels for your heartbeat on her tongue to know exactly when to dive her tongue inside you like she’s starved.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

it rlly does depend. like i’ve said, she loves to take her time with you, unravel you slowly like a ribbon in a knot, working her fingers into your gaps to pull you apart with precision.

sometimes though, it’s just not enough. she gets jealous easy, and her jealousy isn’t pretty or whiney or healthy. her jealousy leaves bruises, and bites. her jealousy drives your head into the headboard relentlessly, beating you down into the rhythm in her head. mine, mine, mine. she’s fast, she’s uneven, for once, it’s not about you. it’s not even about her. her ruts and growls are primal, something completely untouched, the energy is raw, unforgiving, toxic as she rams into you at top speed, little regard for your choked moans or pleas to slow. you deserve this, she deserves this.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

quickie? don’t know her. as desperate as ellie is for your touch, your taste, she thinks its only deserving that she devotes her time to you, to show you how much she cares for you, wants to make you feel good. plus, there’s a million things she wants to do to you while fucking you, so pulling you aside for a minute isn’t really gonna cut it. 

and of course, it comes with the added bonus of making you wait. she loves a needy girl. so desperate and whiney, pleading with her for just 5 minutes of her valuable time. and she’ll turn to you, with a wild smirk, and tell you to wait. she’s busy, she can’t deal with you right now. god, your disappointment is tempting, but it’s even better to come home to you waiting for her, yearning, wet and pliant like a good girl.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

i mean, she’s an adrenaline junkie, so definitely. if you have an idea in mind, she’s happy to try it. as long as it sounds fun, and includes her getting to smack your ass once in a while, she’s game.

taking risks during sex, however, isn’t reallyellie’s thing, unless you ask of course. She’s mean, she’s unhinged and a little bit pervy, but consent is her top priority! she never, ever wants to make you uncomfortable, or hurt being around her, so she’s not risking doing anything you wouldn’t like.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

ellie is surprisingly steadfast. she doesn’t tire quick, she doesn’t let herself falter. sometimes, sometimes, she slows. gets too caught in the thick haze, the dull noise of your moans underneath her, the buzzing pleasure in her cunt. but she picks herself up quick. most of the time, your needs come first, and she keeps a personal best, in her journal, of how many times she’s made you come back to back, so she likes to push her limits.

usually, when the tables are turned, she can only last one round though. poor, sensitive girl. she can't take much, handle her with care.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

ellie has a strap, sure. but c’mon, she’s a bit more creative than that. she enjoys the roughness that using a strap brings, but feeling you, actually feeling you. that’s different. stretching her fingers inside your puffy walls like she’s never known the feeling of anything else, manoeuvring with the precision that only a guitarist’s fingers could have, that a strap could never offer.

she does, however, like the jaunt of your hips when she has a vibrator on your clit. it’s big, it’s loud, it’s purple, it tells everyone exactly what you’re up to, but she doesn’t care. she watches how your eyes screw shut, how your legs move to close but she stops them, pinning one knee down on the bed with a harsh push. and she’s gotta admit, the feeling of the slight vibrations in one hand, as the other pushes inside of you, strong, slow. okay, okay, maybe she does like some toys.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

ellie is brooding, and grumpy, yeah, but she’s also fun. she loves to tease, to remind you of all the little sounds you make, all the things you blurt out during sex that you probably wouldn’t have said otherwise. 

Don’t worry, darling. mommy will get that for you.

Come on! I wanna hear you say it again, it just sounded so good rolling off those pretty lips.

when she’s really horny which is all the time, she’ll tease you in public spaces. out in the club? she’ll brush a hand over your clothed clit while dancing. what? she didn’t do anything, ‘don’t look at me like that’. out to dinner? she’ll whisper all the things she’d really like to be doing with you on top of that table. Don’t act shocked.

Then, when the night is over, she’ll run a finger along your wet slit, and smile, like it’s a prize. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

ellie is LOUD. she’s all in for the effort, the strain. she grunts as she pounds into you, like an animal. crazed and low. she’ll moan into your pussy like a bitch in heat, sending the vibrations running up your spine. she loses herself in you, loses all inhibition. there’s no secrets with ellie. you’ll know exactly how good you make her feel.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

ellie really enjoys girls with long nails! i can hear the masses coming for me now with pitchforks and torches, but hear me out!!

listen, longer nails, ACRYLICS?, stroking down the back of her neck as you hold her, digging into her shoulder blades as she slams into you.. i mean. she’s all about leaving marks, both on you and herself. she enjoys showing off the vicious red streaks you leave on her back when she’s inside you, and on her shoulders as she’s eating you out. it’s a reminder to everyone who she belongs to.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

ellie is toned. she’s not rlly a gym rat, so her muscle sits where she uses it most. she has incredibly strong legs, surprise surprise, from casual jogs and full-on, run-for-your-life sprints. she has sleek, muscular arms from carrying heavy duty weapons, and her back muscles are insane, you’d think she does laps and laps around a pool every day. she’s scrawnier around her shoulders, but it weighs even with her frame. and nothing gets in the way of her holding your body weight on her forearms as she dives into your throbbing cunt.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

oh, she yearns. fuck, just about anything you wear, or anything you do, gets her even  slightly buzzing. she loves her soft moments with you, where she just holds you, dances with you, jokes with you, but you can count the days that didn’t end with sex on one hand. she needs you badly. and yeah, she has, and will continue to, beg for it, just in case you were wondering.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

ellie doesn’t like, leave planet earth right after finishing. she’s tired, but she knows you’re so much worse for wear than she is. so she’ll take the time to care for you, hold you close and whisper sweet things, and then, as your breathing slows, and your body slumps, she passes out. like you could not get a hold of her if you were blasting an emergency siren in her ear canal. she doesn’t wake up until she’s scheduled to, until the shrill, familiar tones of her alarm clock jolt her awake (which, lets be honest, she sleeps until like, 1pm). if you need her before that time, go ask someone else. she will not help you.

[sashi-ya]

東京 NIGHTS mini event

𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑳𝑰𝑽𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑰𝑴𝑨𝑮𝑬ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𓂃 ࣪˖ toji fushiguro x f! reader

⤹˚ synopsis. a miserable Toji founds the living image of his death wife in you, a sex worker at Kabukicho.

requested by: Anonymous ➡ omg i've been waiting for you to write for jjk!!! please Sashi, can you write an nsfw toji x f! reader with the prompt The red lights of Kabukichō. tw: MNDI. dark! content. reader is a sex worker from the kabukicho red district. toji has no respect for you. oral, rough, spanking, slapping, unprotected sex, cream pie implied, you look like Megumi's mom. first time I write for Toji pls be soft on me. wc: 2k masterlist

A lucky round, for the very first time at Pachinko. Fushiguro Toji feels pleased; he lies on the backrest of his seat, right in front of an old machine and next to many other people desperately trying to win something. The more desperate they get, the more they lose.

Poker, Mahjong, horse races. money, lose the money. lose your life, lose the time until it is over.

“It looks like you have a lot of luck tonight, mister” a woman whose face he simply ignores, paws his wide frame.

“Get off, bitch” he mutters, scaring her away with his sharp -but really tired- eyes.

The lady walks away, spitting expletives that Toji couldn’t hear -nor cared to do so-. However, consequences were about to hit him.

Two guys, or maybe gorillas, appeared right behind his seat. “Sir, I must ask you to leave” one of them says, trying to snatch him from behind, passing one of the arms around his neck.

Unfortunately for them, as well as for Toji, the strength and speed of his Zen’in body  allows him to not only avoid the attack but also smash the head of the aforementioned gorilla against the Pachinko machine.

“Fuck you” he grunts, knowing too damn well the aggression didn’t come because of him disrespecting a lady but rather because his “luck” wasn’t welcomed into their business.

Honestly, given the right moment, Toji would have killed them both in no time… but tonight was different; some years -he doesn’t even remember how many- have passed and today marked the anniversary of his wife passing.

Toji stole a bun from the guy that was sitting by his side and walked away from the Pachinko parlor before the astonished looks of the people there. Nobody dared to follow him, they knew death would find them if they dared to mess a single second more with that man.

His steel blue eyes shine red as the lights of Kabukichō receive him in their sensual embrace. The attractive concupiscence of beautiful women dancing on windows catches his attention, but no woman is enough to make him feel any type of pleasure.

He is well aware of the many scams there, but he is sure nobody could scam him more than he could scam them.

Many women and men come closer, wearing revealing suggesting outfits; they touch him, they call him inside their “shops”. Yet, Toji still walks unaware, as if possessed. Some even offer him their services for free, his handsomeness is undeniable; his strong physique, delicious and tempting.

“Sir, sir!” you call him, tapping insistently on his wide shoulder. “SIR!” you repeat, as he seems not to hear anything around.

Toji turns around, all of a sudden, grabbing your hand to stop poking him. “What the fuck do you want, I don’t wanna fuck you… you…” he angrily barks, stopping immediately after watching your face.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t trying to… your… your wallet just fell from your pants” you tell him, scared and feeling the tight grip intensify around your wrist.

His eyes burn holes into yours, his expression turns troubled, darker. He is not blinking, and perhaps even not breathing.

“Do you work here?” he asks. “It’s my first night… I was promoting that- bar” you point out to the entrance of a quite ratchet facility of red and pink lights and semi naked woman pictures on their walls.  “I… your wallet” you murmur, showing him the black ragged leathery pouch that feels light and empty.

He lets your arm go and takes the wallet with absolutely no interest. His eyes, however, never let go of your face… you must be an interest to him?

“You… what’s your surname?” he asks, as if he was waiting to hear something revealing.

You frown; why would a complete stranger ask for your surname? Men in here only want one thing, and to them what’s your name is totally irrelevant for that purpose.

“It’s (Surname)” you tell him, either way. You had nothing to lose, after all.

He seems relieved but also a little disappointed. Truth is, that you look incredibly similar to his late wife… “Come here, I want you” he simply states, pulling from your hand to the inside of your work place.

You follow him with no time to say no… you wouldn’t say no anyway.

There is not much your boss can do either; he is in fact pleased to know that right after he hired you, you have already given him a client.

You open the door to the “rooms”. Precarious looking places that no man cares about as they only care the true purpose of his visit.

Once inside one of them, you close the door, and the red lights bathe both of your bodies as if it was a blood bath.

“Sir, which service would yo-“ you ask, but you are immediately silenced by his hand on your mouth. He pushes you to a round bed, making your back hit violently the mattress. You blink twice before he could pounce into you.

Toji is big enough to smash you with his body, and you honestly would love to die underneath his prominent chest tonight.

“I don’t care about the services you give, spread those legs” he orders, slapping the inner side of your knees.

You let your legs open wide, falling to each side. The short skirt you were wearing invites him to taste you; the buffed man with a scar on his lip sees everything you have to offer.

He smirks, so dark. And then, takes his black shirt off. His body is by far better than what you thought that tight shirt had already revealed to you. Each muscle perfectly showing like it’s been sculpted on his skin. The wide shoulders and prominent collarbones and pecs… he is the total embodiment of carnal desire.

Toji’s brute hands rip your almost transparent thong now; the elastic band snapping on your hipbone makes you squirm owning yourself to get his hand around your neck. “Stay still, bitch. You will have enough time to squirm around once I fuck you”

Your insides tremble, your core tenses. Such a disrespect makes you hornier instead of mad.

“Y-yes…” you stutter, finishing your words with a loud moan as his fingers penetrate you. Your back arches, and the more it does, the more he squeezes your neck.  

With lack of air and probably blue lips, your eyes turn white from pleasure. Your legs tend to close but you can’t as Toji prevents them to shutting.

“Hold on there, don’t close them. I need to prep you, you are too tight to me” he spits, reaching deeper with curled beckoning fingers hitting your top wall. You clench to the sheets, coffing and trying to grasp for some air… this man will kill you, and you will be smiling at him.

He takes his fingers out of you, giving you some seconds to rest. You watch your own arousal dripping down his hand and forearm. Toji sticks his tongue out in a disgusting, yet absolutely sexy way, and licks your salty products right from there.

“Not as good as my wife, but still good” he murmurs, leaving you startled… he has a wife?

Well, not exactly.

He turns you around from your right ankle, this man’s strength surpasses any limits. Your face hit the mattress, leaving you a little bit dizzy from the fall. Immediately after you could react, you feel two big hands lifting your ass from under your lower belly.

Knees carved on the bed, and also head as one of his heavy hands pass from your waist to your nape.

You sense two fingers spreading your folds, and the wet tongue of him licking from your clit to your ass. He has absolutely no decorum to do it, he does it so disgustingly lustful. Toji’s nose buries in your perineum as he sometimes focuses on your throbbing clit, sucking hard until your inner thighs begin to spasm and tremble.

Some spanks are added, that leave your cheeks burning. He goes even down, hitting the back of your thighs, a place that hurts but makes it even better. You are sure by now you must have created a pool of your fluids underneath you, and if not… well, you are most likely about to.

“Ehj… so wet…” he pants once he stops eating you out.

With difficulty you see him through the mirrored walls cleaning his mouth with the back of his forearm. Slanted eyes peek through black strands of hair, they meet yours and It’s both scary and hot.

Toji smirks, so devilishly and turns you once again around from your leg. You are like a mere doll to him.

He buries his fingers in your cheeks, making your lips pout and your eyes widen. You are still panting, so your breathing sounds loudly in between your fingers and a drop of saliva pools right in the middle of your lower lip.

That man has the look of a murderer, of a devil. With just one hand he gets rid of his grey pants along with his underwear. Your eyes confirm why he mentioned the need of you getting “prepped” as he exhibits his hard sex.

Purplish tip, veiny. It is not gigantic, but still constitutes a challenge for anyone to be able to take it. He is not going slow, nor carefully… and you know that for sure.

“I’m going raw, hope you are ready to become a single mother” he lets you know, as if you didn’t know already. You limit yourself to nod. You are honestly more worried for the integrity of your insides than that.

Toji kneels on the bed, sitting on top of his heels. He grabs you by your hips, pulling you over his lap to get your sex closer to his. A sex that with the simple touch of his warm precum covered tip makes your already overstimulated you to shiver.

His fist, also veiny, clench around his shaft. Toji pumps up and down two or three times and then plays with your wetting mess and his, giving you little slaps with his tip.

Strings of transparent lubrication mix; your neediness is that big you squeeze one of your breasts… it seems eternal, the wait, the desire…

The penetration. “Ngh…”

You arch your back while Toji penetrates you deeper and mercilessly, there is no escape as he has you trapped by the sides of your hips. Your toes curl, feeling the stretching of your cunt, and swearing his tip has probably reached a place nobody has ever reached inside you.

He begins fucking you, without moving a single muscle but his muscular arms. He is using you as a fleshlight, and his eyes are fixed in your beautiful pleasure façade.

“Keep moaning that way, you are almost identical” he grunts, moving you in and out faster and harder.

You aren’t very sure to who you are almost identical, but your brain has become nothing but a mere dumb slave of that lustful sexual torture.

He lifts from his heels, along with you. Your face and barely any of your nape remain on the mattress. To him moving your body, he adds his own hip thrusts. The sound of your skin slapping is almost as loud as your whining.

His forearm is the only thing holding you up by the small of your back, while his free hand now rips your little shirt open. Your breasts bounce in pure freedom, calling him to bite them so brutally. And so, he bends over to reach for your hard nipples.

Toji’s eyes never leave your façade, he seems possessed as he enjoys and also suffers.

“Fuck you bitch, how come you are that similar to her… you do the same fucking face” he spits, slapping your face and then burying his index and middle finger inside your mouth.

You choke but suck desperately. Your moans get muffled by his salty fingers; your sex has already undergone the stage of climax more than twice.

He can go for hours, pumping deep in you, biting your breasts, slapping you… and he does, until your conscious begins to fade, and he wishes to fill you up.

“Hold my cum inside, maybe I can give the fucking clan another kid” “Sir…? Which clan?”

I only touched her; I only fucked her because she looked just like you… I miss you, I miss you, I miss you so much...

[carmenberzattosgf]

carmy somehow manages to keep the tattoo hidden from you until it’s properly healed and when he finally reveals it he’s so happy that you like it!! you gently touch it and that’s what makes him lose it—taking your clothes off and settling you on his thigh saying “make yourself feel good f’me. that’s your initial on it, yeah? so it’s yours. i’m yours.” doesn’t help that it feeds into his thing for marking, feeling how wet you are against his thigh -💫

Oh my beloved 💫 anon your thoughts always HIT. I’m thinking Carmy legit keeps one of those big bandaids on it until it heals, blaming it on getting hot oil spilled on him in the kitchen or something if you asked about it. More under the cut!!

You’re in the bathroom, finishing up brushing your teeth when he calls for you in the bedroom. “Baby, can you come here really quick?” When you enter the room, Carmy’s sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing only boxer briefs. “Will you rip off this bandaid for me?” He says, pointing to the large bandaid that’s covering a spot on his thigh. “I don’t wanna do it myself.”

“It’s been on there for like a week now. Are you sure you want me to? It’s going to hurt like hell.” Little did you know that Carmy has been putting on the bandage every day at the restaurant before heading home. That way, the tattoo could properly heal. You walk over to his feet, kneeling in front of him. Carmy swallows deeply, nervous as you peel up the very edge of the bandaid.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Just count to three and go for it.”

“Alright. One, two, three—“ Carmy doesn’t even flinch. Your eyes shift down to his thigh and you finally see it. It’s your initials in cursive script right in the middle of his thigh. The tattoo isn’t huge. Honestly it’s quite dainty compared to his others. “Carmy— is that?” You look up at him in complete shock.

“Mhm. Uh— do you like it?” He scratches the back of his neck nervously, awaiting your answer.

“Of course I do! You got my initials on you, Carm. I love it.” You begin to reach your hand out to touch it before pulling back. “Wait, can I touch it? Is it healed?”

“I got it two weeks ago. It should be all healed up.”

You’re careful as you run your fingers over the lettering. Goosebumps rise on his skin from your touch. “It’s so pretty, Carmy. Thank you for getting it for me.” Without a wasting a second, you lean down to press a delicate skin on the inked skin.

There’s something about you on your knees in front of Carmy, kissing his thigh, that gets him hard in a matter of seconds. Carmy pulls you up quickly. You know from the second you see the look in his eye, and the bulge in his pants, what he’s thinking. “Need to take these off,” he mumbles as his hands push into the waistband of your pants. “Can I take these off?” His movements pause as he waits for your permission. His blue eyes are completely blown out as they look up at you.

“Y-yeah. Please.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, Carmy pulls down your sweatpants and underwear in one go. He grabs your waist, shuffling you towards him to stand with his tattooed-adorned thigh in between your legs.

“Sit,” he instructs. His strong hands at your side urge you to sit down on his thigh. You whine when your soaked core meets his skin, right on top of your initials.

“Carmy—shit.”

“Already so wet. You must really like seeing your initials on my skin. I’m marked up forever now.” His voice is rough, completely filled with arousal. “I want you to ride my thigh and make yourself feel good for me. Can you do that baby?”

“Mhm,” you respond. Your hips move eagerly on his thigh. Your slick makes the movement easy. Your eyes are drawn to the sight below you, Carmy’s tattoo completely covered in your arousal. Carmy notices where your eyes are locked, and his follow suit. His hands tighten on your hips, watching as you desperately grind on his thigh.

“That’s your initials right there. All yours. I’m all yours, now,” he whispers into your ear before moving down to press kisses to your neck and jaw. You’re already close, cunt throbbing against him.

“Carm, fuck. I’m—I’m close,”

“Let go then. Make a mess all over me. Soak your initials.” Carmen’s words send you over the edge as you cum on his thigh. Your legs shake as your head falls into the crook of his neck. “Good job, baby. Did so good for me.”

When you have the strength again, you lift up your head and plant a huge kiss onto Carmy’s lips. “I love you so fucking much. Thank you for getting this tattoo. It means the world to me.”

“Gotta show people who I belong to somehow,” he laughs.

“Let me try and show you just how much it means to me, yeah?” You say, slowly sinking down to your knees in front of him.

[smutinlove]

bro i loved ur last carl x reader sm

*shy sensitive reader

what if carl and reader fight (maybe cuz she sneakes out of alexandria) then rick scolds him and he has to say sorry to her but she cant help but feel emotional

yes!!!!

im not entirely sure i did the shy part correctly but i tried!!! enjoy love<3

CARL GRIMES X READER

i call this:

"The one that got away"

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You glanced at the walls that surrounded Alexandria. It was honestly pathetic. You couldn't necessarily go outside of the walls without permission. It angered you. Every small move you even thought about was supposed to be told to Carl and Rick first. Everything.

"Tell Rick."

"Tell the leader's son!" It was shitty.

You liked Carl. He was sweet. But sometimes he was an asshole.

You continued your walk around the walls of Alexandria. It pissed you off that you couldn't go outside. But... there was one way.

Maybe you could achieve a bit of freedom and independence in doing so.

You smirked and ran back to the group's house, passing Carl and Rick on the way. You went inside and opened the cabinet. You grabbed a knife and went back outside. It was still very sunny so you would definitely have time to come and go without being noticed.

You went to one of the walls that wasn't very heavily guarded. After a few attempts at climbing the wall, you finally did it, landing on the ground with a small "thud."

The fresh air was enticing. It was so peaceful. You could barely hear the words of the other Alexandrians. You decided to head into the woods, just to explore a bit. You had a knife with you so you'd probably be fine.

"Beautiful," you whispered as you watched a bird fly by. A tear of joy slipped down your cheek. Why? It was incredibly rare to see something so pure. Most birds are usually gutted by Walkers or killed, cooked, and eaten by those who were brave enough to survive.

You were about to continue walking when you felt something on your shoulder.

"Caught 'ya."

You let out a shriek. "Holy shit!"

It was... fucking Carl. "Having fun?" Carl asked with a hint of bitterness.

"What? You followed me?!" How could he follow you? It's not fair. You wanted one moment of peace... even if it was outside of the walls of Alexandria.

"Of course! You don't know what you're dealing with! These walkers... they've become more vicious!" You rolled your eyes. Like father like son.

"Shut up! You're so bitchy! Carl, you're always telling people what to do and it's so fucking annoying."

Stunned, he didn't say anything.

So you said, "Fuck you, Carl! Go to hell!" Tears threatened to fall down your cheeks, but you held them in.

"You ain't any better! Why would you even sneak out?!"

"To have some fucking freedom! The walls of Alexandria make me feel trapped. I feel like an animal caged up in there! And you... and your fucking father are taking over everything!" A few tears slipped down your cheeks, making you feeling hopeless.

He forcefully took a hold of your wrist, "We are going. Now."

Carl started dragging you, not caring about your protests or exclaims.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You and Carl reached Alexandria in ten minutes due to his speedy pace.

By this point, you had fantasized about killing Carl in a hundred different ways. And you'd also shed a few more tears before he started yelling at you. Again.

You rushed inside, avoiding everyone.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

"You really had to yell at her?!" Rick scolded. There really was no reason for Carl to yell at you or talk to you in a disrespectful manner. "Well, no, but—"

"—But you need to apologize."

"She shouldn't have snuck out! It's dangerous," Carl retorted.

"And she is old enough to make her own decisions. I agree, it's dangerous and she shouldn't have snuck out. But that was her choice and you should have respected that." Carl stayed quiet this time, letting Rick finish.

"—You can't treat people like that, Carl. Son, I love you. But that was horrible. I want you to go apologize to her. Don't lose her 'cause you said something stupid. She's a good one. You do not wanna sit on a rocking chair at ninety and call her, the one that got away."

"I'm sorry, dad." Carl said. "I know. Now, go."

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Carl entered the house with the yellow door (group's house), Carl sighed and called out, "Hey, Y/N, are you here?"

You sat on the couch, curled up into a ball. Your cheeks were red and puffy from crying. "Hey, oh, Y/N," you heard from behind you.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean all that bullshit I said. I was horrible."

Carl sat down next to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. You looked up, eyes watering again. "Don't cry, please. I'm sorry. I'm the biggest asshole on the planet. I'm so fucking sorry, Y/N."

You nudged closer and wrapped your arms around him, hugging him tight. "I'm sorry," he whispered in your ear once more.

»»————<3———-««

damn guys

inside i was dying frrr

did anyone catch the catwoman/batman reference? :D

anyway this was fun!!! send more reqs yall<3333

he totally wants me<3

[webslingingslasher]

Hi can I get any kind of frat!peter angst, I’m such a slut for angst and something ab frat!peter makes me go feral

*cleaning out my inbox.*

'who the fuck is lauren?'

peter spins around in his desk chair, his pen stops twirling in his fingers. 'lauren?' you feel your blood pressure boil, it's one thing to be commenting and liking everything she posts, it's another to pretend he doesn't know who you're talking about.

'lauren, you know, itslaurenpeters222' it clicks, peter's got a furrow between his brows, his mouth slightly opens with recollection. instead of answering, he follows up with a question.

'why?'

you're about to kill him, for a moment, you imagine stabbing his shoulder with his pen. you don't like the question, he wants to know what you know before he admits to anything.

'just answer the fucking question, parker. who's lauren?'

'i'll tell you who she is if you tell me why you're asking.'

wrong answer. you fly off the handle, you throw your phone at him, he catches it without blinking. her page is pulled up, each photo marked with a 'liked by its.parker and others.' in some, he's even got a comment or two showing.

it's nothing incriminating to the untrained eye, but you know fuckboys and this is how it starts.

'i'm not fucking around, parker. who the fuck is she?' again, he doesn't answer. 'it's not what you think, if that's what you're asking.' you feel your brain breaking, you claim gaslighting frequently, but this time you mean it.

'if i wanted to know if you were fucking her, i would've asked that. i need to know who she is because she's the only other girl you interact with.'

peter locks your phone and attempts to hand it back, you refuse to get close to him, he tosses it to the bed as a middle ground. 'she doesn't go to school here.'

you're at your breaking point and peter doesn't realize. you tone down your anger, you're speaking calm and softly, you need him to hear how close he is to losing everything.

'peter, i need you to look at me.' steady eye contact, it's like you're trying to read a brick wall. 'i swear on everything i own, i will walk out that fucking door and never come back unless you tell me who she is right now.'

peter's antsy, he heard you loud and clear, and now he's wavering on his options. you think he's about to call your bluff, you don't care, you're a thousand percent serious and if he lets this be the downfall, so be it.

you wait for two minutes, you counted to sixty twice and peter's still chewing on his bottom lip. you have your answer, you nod with disgust, you thought he was better than this.

peter got caught red handed. you honestly never took him for a cheater, peter's a lot of things but a cheater wasn't something you ever pegged him for. it's sickening how wrong you were.

you have nothing else to say to him, you snatch your phone from his bed and whip around for the door, the second your hand wraps around the doorknob, peter clears his throat.

'i had a friend in high school. a really, really good friend and he did something that hurt me. lauren is his little sister, she's two years younger than us and goes to rutgers. it never has been, and never will be, sexual. and i don't know why i still talk to her, all she does is remind me of her brother but i don't know, it's nice to know i'm still connected to their family a little, i guess, i don't know.'

your eyes narrow on his face, it seems like he's being authentic and honest. you don't bite, yet. 'and you couldn't just tell me that?'

'i don't like talking about him.'

'and that means...'

'it means that telling you who lauren is, opens up a new door of information about myself and you'll want to pick this apart and you're gonna get hurt when i shut down and tell you we're not going to talk about it. ever.'

peter's a softie around his friends, you assume this was a best friend, and if it was high school that means peter was still a nerd. meaning, it had to be bad.

'what did he do?'

peter crosses his arms over his chest, your question proves his point. he's blocking you out, he gave you all he was going to give, it's up to you if you decide if it's enough.

'peter, c'mon, you can't just dump all that on me and expect me not to-'

'yes, yes i can. i told you i wasn't going to explain it further. you wanted to know who she was, i told you, conversation over.' peter was right, it does hurt your feelings. he never wants to open up and it's frustrating beyond belief, but peter's taught you that slow and steady wins the race.

if you badger him about this, he'll shut you out indefinitely. if you slowly poke and draw out information over the course of a few weeks, you'd have the full story. more or less, you’ll attract a bear with honey.

'that's all she is? your old friend's little sister? there's never been anything more i need to be aware of? nothing?'

peter shakes his head, the one thing you believe, it's that there wasn't anything sexual. the thought has him look like it makes him sick to picture it.

'the last time i saw her in person she was fifteen, i promise there's nothing sexual. i don't even have her number, we interact on instagram, that's it. just likes and comments, no dm's or secret phone calls. promise.'

fine. it doesn't mean you like it.

'i don't like this. i don't appreciate you all over her page.' peter takes in your words, he's listening and while his tone is gentle, he's stubborn about the topic.

'i understand that, and i appreciate you telling me that, and coming to me about this, but i'm sorry, trouble, i'm not cutting her out. if you can't handle that, i understand. but if you do, we need to get this over with now, i don't need lauren resentment coming from you down the line.'

what he's saying without saying it, is that this isn't a bargaining chip and you can't hold it over his head. the topic of lauren dies tonight, and if you have a problem with that, you need to walk away.

you point at him, you're not nearly as hot headed as you were five minutes ago. 'i don't like this.' you feel like you haven't stated it enough.

'i understand. i'd have my own qualms if the situation was reversed.'

he brought it up first. 'and if it was reversed? how'd you react to this?'

'i'd be frustrated and have my own opinion, but i'd understand that this is a person you're not ready to let go of yet, and maybe one day you will be, but you can't be forced into it and you need to make that call when you know you're ready to move on.'

it's a shitty situation, at least peter knows it. you know it'll go nowhere but you can't imagine what could've happened that made him so clammed up.

'he really fucked you up, huh?' peter's hesitant to agree, he's terrified you'll use anything as a conversation starter. 'unrepairable.' no chance of fixing it, ever.

'you swear there's nothing going on?'

'i swear. i promise it on may. i promise it on the frat, on my relationship with you, on everything in me. there's nothing between us, i promise.'

you take a deep breath in, you're going to need more than a single conversation to think about it. it makes you insecure to the ninth degree, but you're confident he's telling the truth. to give peter some benefit, she's got a boy plastered all over her page dating back from two years ago to her third most recent post.

'okay. i believe you.'

'you do?' he sounds hopeful, he hopes this means you'll move on from it. 'i do. i don't like it, i don't support it, and i'll never support it, but i believe that you're not ready to let her go yet and there's nothing romantic or sexual about it.'

'and...' you can't believe you're giving the guy you're seeing a pass on another girl. 'lauren is the only exception. if i ever see you doing this with another girl, i'll stab your pen through your neck. are we good on that?'

peter hold his hand out, 'deal.'

you're allowing this to happen. this better prove how fucking trustworthy you are, if this blows back up in your face, you'll never make the same mistake twice. if peter lies, he'll fuck everything up for every guy after him.

you step up to meet his hold, your grip is tighter than his. 'deal.' 

[theladyismyshepard]

Oath Breaker

Now this one is just me letting my love for the Paladin run wild and I can't get over the thought of throwing it all away for that special one that they love. Funnily enough, my first playthrough was Druid! If you reblog, tag what your first class was/will be

(How the party reacts to you, a Paladin, breaking your Oath for them)

Shadowheart –

You were born… well, you couldn’t really say where, as you hadn’t the faintest clue. You were an orphan living the life as an urchin in the Lower City streets of Baldur’s Gate, that much you were sure of. With your natural charisma and having a knack for persuasion, things could have turned out worse. That isn’t to say you aren’t a survivor, you might have called upon your sleight of hand once or twice. But there was something about you… You were an optimist. You drew people in with your personality, and before you knew it, you had your own makeshift family that you chose to be a part of.

You were always aware of the ones who were having it worse than yourself, you couldn’t help it, it was almost like a reflex. There were the inexperienced, the frailer, the innocent… Some would say you were softhearted, caring entirely too much about everyone else’s well being rather than your own, and honestly? You felt no need to deny or explain yourself. Not when your bleeding heart was content to surround itself with those needing your guidance. It was so nice to feel needed wasn’t it?

Until the joy was stripped when you found yourself losing it all, and the worst part was that you tried your hardest, gave everything you had, and it still wasn’t enough. You weren't enough. It was a day that started as any other would, though at some point you and your friends found yourselves in the sewers underneath the city. It was no grand battle, there were no honorable deeds… It was a simple case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. There was a gang of rotten people that just wouldn’t accept your presence, yet refused to let you leave. One by one your comrades fell… You were the fighter, the protector here, not them… so why were you the only one left alive? It was a “lucky coincidence” that the scuffle was noisy enough to attract attention, though those were never your words.

You felt shame. The people you had come to care about, who looked up to you, had fallen at your feet and you could do nothing. You had all the courage in the world, all the compassion… One could argue that that might be the reason you lived, that maybe you were destined for something greater… You couldn’t see any reason past the survivor’s guilt. No one could convince you otherwise… at least not until the god Helm spoke directly to you one day when you were at your lowest, ready to give up your optimism

"Following the ideal of the knight in shining armour, you will act with honour and virtue to protect the weak and pursue the greater good.” You could feel the power that Helm was offering you, and it was too alluring – it was the power that you desperately needed to make a difference, to ward off the evil, to actually be able to protect.

It was an Oath that you lived by day in and day out. You grabbed outstretched hand after outstretched hand, offering your help to anyone and everyone in need, whether it be an extra blade in an unjust altercation, or a measly passing of judgment between two quarreling neighbors. What was once a reflex to help people was now an unsatiated devotion, an incessant demand. You had no purpose if there was no one to help. Your duty guided you straight to the nautiloid, and as your party grew bigger, you started to see that there might have been a reason for that. Was it to make amends for your last group of friends? Because the thought made you sick to your stomach… What if you failed just as you did last time?

You wouldn’t… As you gazed upon the crease between Shadowheart’s brow as she fretted over losing her own faith for your cause, for you, you decided that this woman right here was what you were living for. Not to protect the world from itself, not to solve every problem thrown your way, not to blindly follow an Oath, but to worship a cleric who had no one to worship herself. You would make her happy, even if that finally entailed the end of you.

She had the opportunity to have her parents back, and of course there was always a cruel catch involved. It was unfair, and while it teetered on the edge of blasphemous (you could feel it burning in your veins, Helm himself warning you off) you found yourself standing between Shadowheart and Shar’s massive form, needing to pass judgment, to intervene against this… this evil. The ultimatum of Shadowheart’s parents or the curse paining her hand was unethical, it was treacherous. It was also not your war to wage, and that was a direct message from Helm.

What could you possibly do? The only thing you’ve ever been good at was a good starting point. You lived by your Oath and you would die by it… and by betraying it all at once. You couldn’t help but to turn back and look at Shadowheart, she was all you ever had eyes for, and realization flickered across her eyes as she registered what you were trying to convey. You could see the fight building, her refusal on the tip of her tongue, but you beat her to it.

“Take me or fight me,” it was a demand met with incredulous laughter, but the fact you weren’t reduced to ashes on the spot relayed curiosity on her part, “Accept me in return for Shadowheart’s parents and the curse wounding her… I can’t accept a no,”

“How bold, paladin,” it was dripping with sarcastic disdain, “Not only will I take your Oath, but I’ll take your life and I’ll relish in the misery it brings your dear, heart… I can feel her agonizing heartbreak as we speak. This little display was delicious, and I thank you for that… If you both can satisfy me, I just might consider myself generous.”

You’re hardly aware of what comes next, not the raise of Shar’s hand, her magic visibly building, not the frantic pulling of Shadowheart’s hand on your arm, not when there was a growing emptiness swelling in your chest, threatening to bring you to your knees as you gasped on strangled breaths. Helm’s spirit of guidance left you behind to flounder in your mistake. You were no paladin of his, but you would be an Oath breaker for Shadowheart tenfold. But once was enough, and you’ll never stop paying for it.

Lae'zel –

You were born in a modest town outside of Wyrm’s Crossing and Rivingston, just far enough to prove ideal in terms of privacy without complete isolation. A town of basic essential– a town where everyone had their function. There was the blacksmith and her wife, the harvester and his family, the carpenter along with his wife and their gaggle of sons following in the trade, the medicinal/healer woman and her two children… what you lacked were soldiers

It was an easy slaughter with hardly anything to even pillage, but what the raiders lacked in treasures, they took in captives. That included you. It wasn’t long before you’ve come to decide that killing you would have been a mercy, and even more immediate was your swelling resentment and thirst for vengeance. It would be years of praying for the strength to fight this oppression before the patron god Ilmater heard your pleas, and came to you with a contract, an Oath… “You will set aside even your own purity to right wrongs and deliver justice to those who have committed the most grievous sins.”

The entire enslavement stronghold fell by your hand, and your hand alone. It was your right to pass this judgment, and it was your duty to carry out justice with no mercy for your wicked captors. And so was your entire moral code as you traveled far and wide, seeking out evil and persecution and the vengeance that draws with it, calling you here and there until the very day you found yourself infected and surrounded by a mismatched group of people that you’ve come to care for.

A particular githyanki had caught your interest early on, what with her prowess in battle, and her loyalty to her people above even her own life. It was respectable and you admired her for her strength. Both with wits and with blade. You trusted her for her word once you’ve come to see the sentiment returned. There was no one else you would trust to take to battle with over her.

But it was more than that… You’ve seen and heard how the githyanki were portrayed, by Shadowheart no less… Lae’zel’s people suffered persecution from the people of your world for their “brute hostility”... Lae’zel gets a gleam of pride in her eye anytime she hears that… and at first you wondered if it was just your Oath that drew you closer to the soldier, a need to defend, a need to lash out against any hatred sent her direction

No… that wasn’t it… Not when you stood there, mouth agape as your eyes darted back and forth from Lae’zel to Orpheus. You gulped as her hand subconsciously slid into your pocket, the jar containing the Astral Tadpole finding shelter in your palm. A sacrifice had to be made now that the Emperor was no longer on your side and you needed the powers of a Mind Flayer on your side if you even considered taking on the Netherbrain. You broke into a sweat at what this would entail.

You would give up your form for something so much greater that it couldn’t even be contained in your body. It was an almighty power that you were not meant to have, and as a Paladin, a quest for such power would break your very oath, even if your intentions were good, even if your intentions were out of spite to destroy the brain. But you knew what your intentions were and they were purely selfish: You intended to spare Lae’zel the impossible task of watching the Prince of her people give up his newfound freedom for another Hell. Not because of your oath of vengeance, but because you loved her.

“I…” This was the first time you’ve ever seen Lae’zel speechless and wide-eyed, at a complete loss. “You…”

“Mla’ghir… Liberator… That is what you shall be known to our people as… May my will be done,” Orpheus decreed, bowing to you, and from behind him you can still she Lae’zel struggling, her mouth opening and closing, and maybe it was wishful thinking, but you could’ve sworn you had seen a glossy film over her eyes that was pooling on her lower eyelids.

“You have a duty to your people, Lae’zel… just like I had a duty to anyone and everyone who crossed my path… before I met you. Now, I have my own personal oath to you, and I will do anything to-”

If it was a kiss you were seeking, you succeeded. One hand grabbed the back of your neck and the other wound around your back, pulling you in firmly against her lips. It was a bittersweet display, knowing this was the last that you were to receive. It was worth it, and you would break your oath a million times over if it meant Lae'zel could finally have the opportunity to let go of her own vengeance. Taking a step back while uncorking the bottle before you could lose your nerve, you accept the Astral Tadpolr, and miss the look of terror and worry Lae'zel had for you as she weakly reached out before thinking better of it.

Karlach –

You were born in a lonesome village nestled discreetly in the thick forests of the Wilderness. Hard to access seeing as there’s only one way in and one way out, and the entrance is hidden behind a waterfall. A true town of nature, it is literally taken over and incorporated into the wild. You grew up with the whispers of the trees and the understanding of animals. Everything had a balance, and you could tell when all was right with the world in terms of energy and flow.

Which also entailed being able to pinpoint the moment nature felt off, like there was a wound torn asunder and darkness and misery was oozing out and taking over. Being as in- tune with nature as you were, it physically pained you to feel the death of the earth around you. Living in a place so far away from the destruction of life was good for you– Until you could feel the presence of people making their exploration in a place already explored. There was hardly anything you could do to protect the sanctity of the land, not when you could physically feel the wars waging upon them, the resources that were being exploited…

Your prayers for the lands were answered one day by Mielikki, the goddess of forests and the creatures who live within, and with her she brought an Oath granting unspeakable powers that could benefit in healing, healing yourself, healing your friends, healing the world… “You fight on the side of light in the cosmic struggle against darkness to preserve the sanctity of life and the beauty of nature.”

No other words would ever ring more true to you as you live your life healing the hurt that mankind leaves behind on the land. You still hold onto hope that there are more people like you who care about the wellbeing of nature and the life within. You keep that hope alive in hopes that it would spark and set ablaze, leaving a lasting impression on people rather than nature.

You found yourself lounged comfortably along the wooden raft that you yourself had crafted. The wood was chipping and stained with a permanent moss, evidence of its wear-and-tear during its time in service. The only sounds that could be heard were the gentle lapping of the babbling river, the rustling of leaves as wildlife took its course through the surrounding wilderness, and your breathing… you didn’t even see the nautiloid coming

You didn’t even see Karlach coming. Well… that’s neither here nor there… But her fiery nature and her bright soul was breathtaking, and you found yourself in awe of the force of her very being. Her smile, her mannerisms, her passion… she burns brighter than anyone or anything you’ve ever known– and it was only a matter of time before she burnt out. It was a cruel reality that you avoided, but you knew, deep down, past your heart, but to your Oath…

Karlach’s soul was the purest you’ve felt in ages, but there was no heart that sustained that. It was an infernal engine that roared the very fires of Hell, and it was a bomb that was set to go off at any given moment. It was nature’s way, and your Oath was telling you to accept it, that all cycles come and go and that this was no different, no matter the sorrowful circumstances. But you couldn’t accept the snuffing of the brightest life that the world, Heavens, or Hells could offer, that would be the cruelest crime against humanity.

That was what you told yourself. But at the end of it all was when you lost your faith. You held not an ounce of hope in your heart in the depths of your deepest despair: watching her grunt in agony when she would usually be cheering and whooping in celebration. The very life and soul of the party– the one who, without even knowing it, had you changing your entire devotion. There was only one you intended to worship and it wasn’t Mother Earth… Her name was Karlach, and you could feel your own light fading with her own as you felt your love being plucked away. You would drain every sea, tear apart every mountain if it meant sparing her life.

And… you were letting it? You could have pushed harder for her to return to Avernus, just long enough to find a more permanent cure, or another upgrade at least… But the heartbreak on her face and the constant insistences of getting trapped and never returning were too much to press further. You would never ask her to do something she was dead set against, and you never would have asked her to give up her body and soul for the advantage over the Netherbrain by becoming a Mind Flayer. You rush forward, ignoring her initial attempts to push you away so as to not get burned, and wrap your arms around her body despite your skin burning and peeling. This was it, you could feel her trembling and you were afraid… so afraid that you crumbled and your facade broke when it really mattered. You begged her to stay, to return to Avernus because you in fact needed her alive more than you needed anything else alive on the planet.

Would one call you selfish for allowing her to lose her body and soul anyway for a less noble cause? Would they call you thoughtful for taking her interests to heart? As Karlach faded with a lovely smile reserved only for you along with a wink, you felt the oncoming tendrils of nothingness take a hold of where the light in your heart used to be. There was nothing now, no love, no guidance… What would Karlach think of you for breaking your Oath of the Ancients by losing yourself in losing her?

Astarion –

You were born to a life of nobility within Baldur’s Gate, a life that supplied little struggle, though you knew of it when you could see the hopeless flocking the streets. There are times that your guilty conscience calls you to act, to give what you could, but you also had an understanding that what was yours was yours, and it wouldn’t remain so if you gave it all away. Some might call you generous with the people.

Others might try to kill you. How appreciative. You like to think it was for the run-of-the-mill nobility ransom, maybe come to kidnap you by chance? You couldn’t understand why they were pulling their knives ou-

And then you were gasping awake, suddenly lying on the ground in a pool of blood– your blood… The servants had found your dead body, and your family could afford to stock up almost indefinitely on Scrolls of Revivify. Your brain was foggy as you struggled to comprehend the series of events that resulted in you being resurrected. It was a weird cult who had a hit out on you and you had never felt so helpless. When you had learned the news that all of your possessions had been stolen along with your life, you needed vengeance.

So you dedicated your time to following the goddess of avarice and hatred, Tiamat in hopes of gaining her favor. After a while, you thought she had no use of you, maybe undeserving of her power, but one day she finally came to you.

“Your fury is still there, but you are not so blinded… I have use for all, but to think of yourself as unworthy– well… That makes it so much sweeter. You will set aside even your own purity to right wrongs and deliver justice to those who have committed the most grievous sins.”

And deliver it you shall. You could taste the putrid burn of unserved justice. You could feel the fiery anger of revenge from the wronged  as if it were your very own, and nothing was sweeter on your lips than delivering the final sentence after it itched at your skin for the longest. Overall, it was a satisfying life consisting of butting into other people’s business and having god-gifted powers to judge them for it. One could get used to it, and you did… until you were infected and scrambling just like the party you were traveling all over Faerun with.

The vampire had charisma about himself, his words dripping with honey as much as blood as you spoke to him and learned more about his backstory. The more you got to know, the more your hunger for vengeance grew into a gnawing at your gut. You would personally see to Cazador’s death as retribution but you wouldn’t dream to see it carried out by your own hand– No, for once, it felt even better to watch Astarion unleash centuries of torment and anguish. He was on his knees, and while that was usually a beautiful sight that you’ve come to… come, gravity pulled you to your own knees as you pulled him into a bone-crushing hug.

“It’s okay, my love, it’s over… you are free,” You cradle his face in your hands, and you watch as he flinches before easing into your touch despite himself.

“I feel… nothing,” admitted Astarion hollowly, truthfully… You could see all the spunky attitude keeping him his charming self just gone from his body as he sagged forward. “His connection, his influence, gone… As is my way to walk freely in the sun when this is over.”

In the haste of battle, it was easier to acknowledge that Cazador’s special spawns were his energy source. He couldn’t complete the ritual, ergo, he could not absorb Astarion’s soul, leaving him nothing but a pile of ash. That also meant that Astarion himself lost the opportunity to Ascend in Cazador’s place and accept unlimited power that a lot of people dream of, yourself included. Seeing his wide range of emotion, you couldn’t help but to feel a bitter taste in your mouth. You took part in stopping his Ascension…

So you would do anything to give yourself and the man you love the chance at that power again, even if it meant turning your back on the greater good. What greater power was there than the control of the Netherbrain? As the party traveled far and wide, you had encountered several illithid tadpoles on your journey. A majority of the group did not favor the power that they had to bring, and trusted you to agree. That was why you shared the tadpoles in secret with Astarion the moment he showed interest.

The power coursing through the two of you along with the help of the Emperor… it was no challenge to overpower the brain and take control of it, granting unmeasurable powers the likes of which no one had wielded before. Even the Gods would quake in your wake… Even Tiamat herself could not harm you for taking on such power that would deem you as an Oath Breaker. You pull Astarion into a kiss, and allow every racing thought to flow outward and into your connection. You feel his sly smirk against your lips along with a gentle nick of his right fang.

“Darling, you’re so vile I could eat you right up… I adore anyone who would break an Oath for me… whether it was their own or someone else’s,”

[dr-zeddy]

Miquella is a deeply tragic character and saying he's a villain just because he used someone, who was probably way worse than him to create an order lead by kindness, makes you come off as pretty short-sighted imo Miq was as much of a victim as Mohg. He had good intentions, he truly believed he could make the he could make the world a better place.

*exhales deeply* Are you the person, I think you are? nonetheless....

I'm going to shed my opinion on Miquella now because I seriously can not tell if this is bait or not from things we see and know in the base game and DLC and want to clarify my thoughts on him and why I believe rendering him as a victim is extremely problematic, also outside of the entire Mohg situation.

Is it so hard to internalize that the things Miquella did were actually highly morally questionable? I got to admit, he is a way more interesting character to me after the DLC because of the things he did (and I enjoy villains, so yeah.) I guess the »villain« term is as much accurate as some of you folks justify brainwashing to be ethical , when it is done with good intentions and keeps the peace, with which I personally do not agree with at all.

I don't see Miquella as tragic because honestly we have nothing to suggest that this guy suffered in any way before he decided to rip himself off of his personality. And that is the point, he decided to do that himself. No one forced him to this. Miquella had a choice, unlike Mohg. Yeah sure, you could argue that he suffered through his immense »empathy« but honestly, Miquella's empathy for the weak and shunned always came off as superficial. Why does he not care for the Albinaurics being tortured in Castle Sol, which is clearly allied with him? Where are the Misbegotten and other creatures in Elphael? Where are the Albinaurics? And the Omens? The Nomads?? Miquella claims to want to create a perfect world where everyone is equal but honestly except for words we hear, we do not see any fucking action or effort to truly include them in his world order.

And that's the thing, Miquella reeks for me at best of naivity and at worst of white saviour complex. He grew up as a fucking empyrean, he had a good relationship with at least one of his parents, he was a golden child. From the things we see and hear in the base game, and now the DLC, it feels like Miquella does not seem to grasp the complexity of the situation when it comes to subjugation. If that is due to his child-like thinking, infused by his curse or actually just his personality, is up for debate. Can you truly care for the subjugated as someone more privileged? Absolutely. But only if you truly educate yourself on the matter and actually listen to the needs of the excluded and shunned.

What does Miquella do instead? He rips everyone off of their autonomy to make decisions themselves if they refuse or challenge his beliefs. That is textbook tyranny. You can not save someone, who refuses to be saved by someone like you. Doing so anyway is extremely ignorant. In the end, Miquella actually puts his needs & beliefs before that of those he claims to desire to save. He is so convinced of his own agenda that he loses track of the moral dilemma, his approach to worldpeace poses. That is not tragic. These are the thoughts of a megalomaniac. If Miquella's selflessness was truly genuine there would be no need of compelling affection. However, he bewitches people. Over and over.

Of course, there are his efforts of curing Malenia still. But even that is, in the big sight of things, not really a selfless act because Malenia is a.) close family and b.) he gets and actual use out of Malenia's talent as a skilled swordswoman. I do not think Miquella bewitched her, I truly believe Malenia followed him by his own will and I also do believe he really did want to help her! However true kindness lays in how you treat those who can do nothing for you. Bewitching those who can do nothing for you and refuse to follow you, is not exactly a very pretty picture of his character.

And in comes Mohg to this occasion. The game is so fucking obvious about the fact that Mohg was the exploited one and I seriously do not understand why people still insist he isn't and exploited Miquella?? He is the only demigod we know for certain of, who was brainwashed. With Radahn and Malenia we do not know for sure but with Mohg we do. The fact that Mohg was bewitched implies that Miquella could not be sure that Mohg would have agreed to a deal and that would have been a way safer route than to bewitch him and his closest consult. I mean, Miquella almost DIED because he underestimated Ansbach's knowledge on how Mohg behaves. Why the fuck risk that if you could have just openly made a deal with Mohg, if he was as power hungry and crazy as the game implied?

In contrast to Miquella, Mohg is actually one of the most tragic characters in the game. This motherfucker was told his mere existence is a crime, grew up in the sewers locked away for years, he had no one except this one Outer God who seemed to care for him and showed him maternal love, something he was deprived off his entire life. Not getting into the speculation on how the cult operated before Miquella took over but it's very clear that he ruined Mohg's life. Mohg just wanted to get away from the toxicity he grew up with and created his own haven, from which he too thought, was the right thing to do. However he never forced anyone to join him. He never mind controlled people. People followed him by their own accounts.

The cult in itself is probably morally questionable too but we also have no idea how the Mohgwyn Dynasty worked before Miquella essentially took over. But by that standard, everyone is in the Lands Between is a twisted bastard with their different agendas ….

The point is that Ansbach is still right though when he says that »Mohg deserved better«. NO ONE who is genuinely interested in helping the shunned and subjugated, would chose one of the most excluded and tormented souls as their pawn. NOBODY deserves to be treated like this but the fact that Mohg is a product of extreme racism and social exclusion makes it so much worse and makes Miquella look so much more hypocritical. It suits the stuff we see in Castle Sol and the Haligtree … Miquella wants to be seen as the world's saviour so badly but seems to have no understanding on what suffering actually means. Because he never experienced it. His empathy is superficial and short sighted. The fact he is convinced he is doing everyone a favour in bewitching them, and does everything in his power to achieve his dream, makes him a truly terrifying villain. And that is something I like Miquella for. Is that really so hard to accept for people like you?

Sure, you can still live out the fantasy in your head that the mindcontrolling intermitted in Mohg to "grape" Miquella (even tho the game also never confirmed this????) if that pleases you, but for the love of God stop acting like it is a fact that Miquella was used by Mohg because he wasn't. I guess a lot of personal feelings from my side bubble up regarding this topic and I'm sorry of if I come off as passive aggressive but as a survivor of abuse as a minor by someone "popular", and nobody believed me, and Mohg being one of my comfort characters, that shit hits different. Just not a fan of turning victim-abuser dynamics upside down, sorry.

[ddarker-dreams]

Tastiest Treat.

Scaramouche x Reader.

Word count: 1.1k. 

“No.”

Scaramouche shuts you down the mere second you excitedly enter his line of sight. It isn’t an unexpected reaction, that incessant scowl often seen on his otherwise pretty face. You think looking grumpy might be a hobby of his. How pitiful is that? This is exactly why your presence in his life is a need, not a want.

You consider voicing this sentiment, only to wisely decide against it. To get what you want today, you’ll need to choose your battles carefully. This isn’t a fight you should pick.

… Maybe tomorrow, instead.

“Huh? I haven’t even said anything yet,” you reply.

He waves off your faux offense as if he were swatting a pesky bug. Which, if his current miffed expression is anything to go by, is exactly how he currently views you. That’d be hot water for anyone else. You’d say the temperature feels more lukewarm than anything. Comfortable enough to take a bath in.

“You didn’t need to. Your expression alone is enough to serve as a sufficient warning. Whatever strange request it is you’re inevitably about to ask of me, my answer is no.”

“I hope you’ll set aside your prejudiced misconceptions for just a moment to hear me out,” you reply without missing a beat. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose yet doesn’t attempt to stop you. He probably knows better than to try. “I only want to play a simple game with you. Something tells me you’ll enjoy it more than you think.”

The sales pitch must not have been as effective as you hoped, for he shakes his head. “Enjoyable for you, maybe. For someone who enjoys using the word ‘sadistic’ to describe me, you sure do take a fair share of delight in my torment.”

“It’s not torment, it’s character building. As the only person who isn’t at risk of an excruciating death for so much as breathing in your vicinity, I consider it my sworn duty to keep you humble. Or the closest thing you can get to it.”

He gives you a thin smile. “You sure do love testing my patience, don’t you?”

“I don’t think I love it nearly as much as you do. Now, for the game,” you pull out a thin biscuit-like stick covered in chocolate. “We both start eating from each end. You lose if your mouth comes off it or the opposing player gets to the middle first. Simple, right?”

Scaramouche eyes it warily. “You know I don’t care for sweets.”

“But you care for me, so let’s give it a shot anyway.”

(He noticeably doesn’t deny this).

“My answer is still no. Honestly, I can’t take my eyes off you… the second I do, you’re running off coming up with the most half-witted ideas. Should I follow through with that threat of tying you to my wrist after all?”

The grin he gives you is supposed to be menacing, you presume, but you’re undeterred. Such trials are the spice of life. Besides, you’re already well acquainted with his questionable sense of humor. “Thanks for reminding me to always keep a pair of scissors on hand. Anyway, if you really still don’t want to, then well…”

He inhales, bracing himself for the worst—

“That’s fine then.”

“What?” He blurts out, having all the grace of a newborn fawn trying to cross a frozen lake seconds after being born. Further forgetting the virtues of propriety, he points at you, his senses on the highest alert.  “That… isn’t how this works. How you work.”

The Harbinger keeps you at arm’s length, as if you were actually any threat to him. Apprehension radiates off him in waves. You examine the treat in your grasp with something akin to yearning. Purposeful silence ensues, multiplying the already building tension in the air. He’s waiting with bated breath for whatever stunt you pull next.

You don’t keep him waiting long.

“I mean, I would’ve liked to play the game, since, y’know, it’s possible we might’ve ended up kissing,” you drop your shoulders while he processes the information being presented to him. “I guess I could look to see if someone else might take me up on my offer… well, sorry to bother you—”

“Hand it over.”

“Oh?”

“I forbid you from playing this ‘game’ with anyone else. After all, you said…” he trails off, his face flushing with color, “That… that a kiss could potentially arise as a result. I can’t allow that. Game or otherwise. Because I’m… ahem… the only person who has kissing privileges.”

You blink, finding the swiftness of your success unexpected. There were a few more plans hidden up your sleeve that will get to say there now. You underestimated how quick he’d be to disregard his pride so long as a kiss is on the table. Not wanting to waste any more time in case he regains his temporarily cast-aside dignity, you set the thin biscuit inside your mouth.

Scaramouche latches onto the other end with unrivaled vigor. You’d almost think his life was on the line by how seriously he’s taking this.

Your strategy is a simple one — the classic little nibbles that err on the side of caution. He mimics your approach, having to take a step forward to remain balanced from how close your bodies are becoming. From this angle, you’re treated to an unobscured view of his pretty features. The glassiness of his indigo eyes, the brushstrokes of red surrounding them, the cute creases from his nose being scrunched up in concentration.

There’s precious little you wouldn’t do to experience a sight like this.

You’re both making decent headway, though you’re the slightest bit closer to the middle. Victory should be within reach, so long as you keep this up—

Hm? What’s this pressure you’re feeling against your lips?

Soft, oh so soft. Warm too. Caressing, the slightest bit greedy.

Scaramouche is smirking at you, evidently very pleased with himself, savoring each second of your bewilderment. You mentally scour through the files of your short-term memory. He had moved so fast that your eyes could barely process the motion before them. In less than the time it took you to blink, he had taken a sizable bite, eliminating what little distance remained between your faces.

His teeth tug your lower lip toward him lightly when he pulls away, his eyes lidded. “I got to the middle before you did. Wouldn’t you say that means I won? What’s my prize?”

“Truthfully, I hadn’t thought that far ahead,” you admit, to which he snorts. “Uh… best two out of three?”

He wipes a few stray crumbs from the corner of your mouth with his thumb.

“If I get to keep doing that, then we can go through your whole stupid box. Try me.”

[fire-lizard-ro]

SO UHHHHH- Beware the darker themes ahead. I know people were probably expecting more smut from me, but I find it hard to write smut for the Aeons??? Who even knows how that would actually work-

Anyways sorry for the lack of smut. OTL

I will feed y’all some good Geppie smut later!

GN reader

CW: mentions of death, permanent maiming, breaking bones, sadistic and obsessive tendencies, loss of self

Lemme know if I missed anything. T-T

I didn’t really get into it as much as I could have, so I don’t think it’s too bad. But still read that CW, please-

When it comes to the Aeons, I refuse to believe that they understand human conventions, morals, or ways of love. I think that with them, it's very easy for them to be a yandere??? Sorta?

Once they are interested in you, they won't immediately take you. They'll likely observe you, being interested in figuring out what it is that had them interested in you in the first place.

But slowly they become more convinced that you are someone they want to keep by their side.

Once they've decided that you should stay by their side, they'd likely kidnap you???

And I feel like as an Aeon who doesn't empathize with human emotions just has to keep you because you make them feel something truly novel- Is this that "love" that they always heard those humans talk about? That thing that they strive for yet the Aeons couldn't possibly hope to understand? So no matter how far you try to run, they'll find you.

Yaoshi

With this particular Aeon, I can see their love being one that is harmful for humans no matter how sweetly they put it.

They don't understand why you don't want the protection of their path and the blessing of everlasting life they can give you. :((

At some point, they'll likely give you the curse of mara, turning you into something you aren't. It's all because they love you and can't bear to see your mortal form crumble to nothing over the years and your life come to an end. They just couldn't accept that. So one day they tell you sweetly to close your eyes because they have a gift for you. One that you can keep... forever.

They understands that it will hurt. Yes. They understand that you'll lose your humanity and really your sense of being- But that's okay! They can take care of you. They'll never let you feel pain or suffering after this moment. You'll just have to take this moment of pain to have an eternity with them. Okay? :))

Honestly I can't really see why any of the Aeons would keep a human or other mortal around when what they pursue is something that mortal minds cannot truly fathom. Like with Nanook....

Nanook

(Disclaimer: what I said with Yaoshi? Y e a h - THIS ONE IS DEFINITELY HARMFUL TO HUMANS AND IT’S NOT EVEN PUT IN A SWEET WAY LIKE WITH YAOSHI.)

They are literally seeking the destruction of all things. Those who follow the Path of Destruction even sacrifice their own health and bodies in order to gain power in battle. The Path of the Destruction is one that seeks the end of all things. But maybe there's a slim chance that despite seeking to destroy all creation, they would find you oddly charming. A cute little thing that they cannot seem to take their eyes away from. Somehow, to them, you are just as beautiful as the fiery destruction they seek to bring to the universe.

Obsessively watching you and doing whatever they please to you. Keeping you close at all times, trapped in their embrace as though their hands were a living cage. Again- No matter where you run, no matter where you hide… they’ll find you. Their love is also Very Harmful to Humans TM. Holds you far too tight without really realizing it. But if you try to pry their large fingers off or you squirm too much… they only squeeze harder. To the point that you feel your skin bruising, flesh becoming sore and your very bones creaking. If you actually manage to get away from them somehow, I’m not sure what will happen to you. Not to mention the fact that it will be very VERY hard to run once you’ve escaped. Aeons can probably traverse the universe at speeds unfathomable. And their piercing gazes leave no stone unturned. How could you hope to hide from such all-seeing eyes? How can you hide from an Aeon? Once they’ve caught you again… you probably aren’t getting away. They may break you a bit. Juuust a but. Enough to discourage a second escape attempt- And maybe even enough to make that second attempt impossible. You don’t really need to walk if they’re always holding you, right? Maybe if they… break your legs? Careful you don’t anger them any more than that- Paralysis from the waist down is also a dangerous, but possible option. You may be broken after that, but they’re the Aeon of Destruction. You’ll be beautiful to them even broken. :))

At some point, if this was you second attempt and you’re somehow able to get away without them breaking your legs- Or hell maybe they did but you are just stubborn enough to devise a way to run away again (though likely not on those twisted legs of yours). Point is- If this is not your first attempt at escape, it’s likely that word of what happened the first time has spread. I doubt there’d be a planet in the galaxy willing to harbor you when Nanook could easily raze their cities to the ground and destroy the very planet they live on.

Nanook is the Most Dangerous of the Aeons to catch the attention of. Because I think with them, the most realistic thing would be that you are always one wrong step away from becoming a beautifully broken thing. The grand and beautiful destruction this Aeon sought. For what greater love is there than making you an example of their reason for being, right? Right? :)))

Or maybe it’s because they cannot be bothered with you if you become too much of a hassle even if they fancy you. I’m not really sure how Aeons really work, soooo…. I’d honestly be careful around this one… Even though I’m sure most would be considering their intimidating stature and nature.

Lan

I wonder if Lan would find it fun to let you think you’d escaped them only to hunt you down. I mean. They are the Aeon of the Hunt. Yes that means more than just that, but. I can see it. Some sort of sadistic glee they have in the fear in your eyes, the pounding in your heart, and the panicked breaths you take when realizing they’ve found you again. But they’d never hurt you! No, no, no- They certainly wouldn’t… Right?

IX

I don’t think there’d be any getting away from the Aeon of Nihility. 💀

I mean- Considering what happened in the Simulated Universe when meeting IX, I think you know why. I don’t know too much about them and no longer have many spoons for this so ye.

Maybe will write more about the Aeons later.

Sorry for any wack writing and typos it’s ass o’clock and it’s time for my eepy ass to go mimimimimimi- Might fix it eventually if I catch it.

[mauselet]

The Influencer - And All Is Not Fine

This story is for @ask-the-rag-dolly's blog, specifically The Influencer AU. Honestly, loving the blog so much. Huge thanks to Mod Bee for creating it and if you haven't already, go check out her blog.

Big thanks to WanderingDragon and Foolscap Hamato for helping with the fic.

Yes, the story is named after Entropy by Awkward Marina lyrics. Also, the anon/s that speak in orange and red, you got a reference in there cause it felt fitting.

Well, I really hope you enjoy this story!

Story includes: Ragatha X Pomni (but can be taken as platonically), angst, hurt/comfort

TW body horror, possessive behavior, possession, anxiety/panic attack, haphephobia/fear of being touched, questioning sanity, self-neglect

It's been a few weeks since Pomni found out that there were currently hundreds of voices inside Ragatha's head. Wow, and after all this time it didn't sound any less insane. From what Pomni understood, those voices were a virus that had infected the circus and latched onto Ragatha. They couldn't tell Caine about this because he'd likely kill them and Ragatha refused that. For some reason, she wanted to protect them which seemed even crazier than the whole situation. Some of them were friendly, sure, but others…

They attacked Jax, causing him to glitch out. They taunted Ragatha by plaguing her mind with the worst cases imaginable or calling her names or taking her too literally. They spawned that stupid paper shredder!

Oh, how Pomni hated that thing! The next time she sees one, she’ll personally smash it into pieces.

In short, the voices–all of them–stressed Ragatha out. And who could blame her? Sometimes even your own voice in your head can drive you mad. Pomni was actually impressed that the doll hadn’t reached her breaking point yet with these “anons”, as they called themselves, constantly following her.

Of course, it wasn’t all that bad. Sure, they led to Ragatha temporarily losing her arm, but it was also thanks to them that she worked up the courage to speak to Pomni again. The thought of that always brought a smile to the jester’s face.

She was glad she could talk to her. Not only because Ragatha was nice and overall pleasant to be around, but it was also good for the ragdoll; especially now that she avoided the other circus performers to prevent another Jax fiasco or a possible infection.

The redhead’s absence was noticed by the others and to Pomni’s surprise, they were concerned about her. When Pomni first arrived, she was too busy spiraling down her anxiety to see it, but these trapped souls were friends. They cared about one another, even if it’d be in their own strange ways. So Pomni decided to reassure them all with daily reports on how Ragatha was doing.

And that was usually the extent of her interactions with them. Until Caine’s adventures forced her to stick around the whole day. Sometimes she was able to avoid them, however, there were times when she just couldn’t no matter how hard she tried. Unfortunately for her, adventures like these stacked over the course of the last few days, making it basically impossible for Pomni to check on Ragatha.

By the third or fourth day, Pomni was getting anxious. Throughout the adventure, her fingers were constantly convulsing while stuck in an unnatural position, her eyes turned into scribbles and her thoughts were as far away from the game as possible.

Ragatha must’ve been lonely. It’s been days since she’s interacted with anyone. Well…since she’s interacted with someone who meant no harm to her. Hopefully, she was alright…

Pomni suddenly jerked and snapped out of her thoughts as a gloved hand waved in front of her eyes. Her head shot up and she saw Kinger, Zooble and Gangle who announced to her that they found a way to replace her in today’s adventure and that she could go see Ragatha. If she had to be honest, she didn’t even know what the adventure was, but if she really wasn’t needed there…

She gave the three of them a quick smile and dashed to Ragatha’s room as fast as her short legs could carry her. As soon as she arrived and caught her breath, she rang the bell, waiting and…

Waiting.

Pomni felt a pit in her stomach. No, no, no. She shook her head. Everything’s fine, it’s just taking a bit. She rang again.

“R-Ragatha? It’s me, Pomni. A-are you in there?”

But she was still left waiting.

“Ragatha!” she raised her voice, yet still no response.

Oh God, three days… Three whole days with nothing but those voices. That must’ve been a nightmare for the doll and Pomni left her dealing with that alone. She left her again…

“I’m coming in!” she announced and reached for the doorknob. Her body froze as she held it, overwhelmed by worried thoughts, but also by a sense of déjà vu. She chuckled darkly at the memory of desperately wanting to know what was behind a door she shouldn’t go through and then opened.

A wave of relief washed over Pomni as she wasn’t instantly met with a glitching blob with a thousand glowing eyeballs. She walked in and closed the door behind her.

She looked around the room and her heart skipped a beat. Ragatha was there, sitting on her bed, sewing what appeared to be a suit. She was so focused on her work; maybe that's why she didn't register the bell. Pomni can't actually remember if she'd ever seen her this focused, but she looked surprisingly calm and, the jester had to admit, quite pretty. 

“Um…Ragatha?” the short woman started, walking over, “I'm sorry for barging in, I was just worried when you didn't answer.” But the ragdoll didn't respond; it was as if she didn’t even notice that Pomni was in the room talking to her.

Was she ignoring her? Was she mad? Did she…hate her? All of those thoughts sounded really ridiculous considering that this was Ragatha we were talking about. She doesn’t even allow herself to hate Jax, someone who’s caused more than enough harm to her, so there is no way she’d ever hate Pomni. Right…? Yet all those thoughts, as unrealistic as they might’ve seemed, felt like real possibilities to Pomni.

Somehow despite Jax putting her worst fear in her room, voices constantly screaming at her and hurting her and Caine forcing her into some of the most dangerous scenarios, not being there for her seemed like the biggest crime of them all.

Well, there was only one way to fix it.

“I’m so sorry I took so long,” Pomni let out, her steps slowing down, “I tried to check on you, but Caine’s adventures-”

“Oh, it’s alright, dear,” hearing that gentle voice, Pomni stopped. It was nice hearing her again, but something felt off. Sure, Ragatha occasionally used pet names like hun or sweetheart or even dear–oh geez, Pomni felt her cheeks heating up just thinking about it—that wasn’t the issue. She sounded more nonchalant than reassuring.

That didn’t matter right now. She wasn’t mad and that brought a smile to Pomni’s face. However, that didn’t last long as the doll finally raised her head.

Pomni’s face turned paler than usual if it was even possible, the pinwheel eyes shrunk, making them nearly invisible and her smile vanished as if it was never there.

Oh %$!#... Oh %$!#! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, NO! This wasn’t… This couldn’t have been real!

She wasn’t just staring at a black void with two colorful eyes where Ragatha’s button was supposed to be. She wasn’t just witnessing her friend slowly abstracting in front of her! She wasn’t… She wasn’t…

This wasn’t real!

It… It was just one of the digital hallucinations that Caine mentioned. Yeah! That’s it! That’s…That’s what it…was…

But those eyes, that void, they were still there, no matter how much Pomni convinced herself about the opposite.

Caine. She had to go get Caine! As Ragatha said once, maybe there was still time to fix this.

“Stay here!” Pomni blurted out, “I’ll be right back!” She quickly turned around and ran to the door. She’s going to come back this time. This time she won’t let Ragatha suffer.

She reached for the doorknob, but before she could grab it, arms wrapped around her and she was pulled back. One of the arms held her abdomen while the other was around her neck, not too tight yet still uncomfortable.

Feeling the fabric arms against her skin made her dizzy and itchy. She could sense every single pixel touching her, causing goosebumps to spread over her body.

“Where are you going, dear~?” she heard a whisper in her ear. It was Ragatha’s gentle, calming voice- No. It sounded different and…wrong. The voice was demanding and rough.

Pomni’s breath hitched. Was really something wrong with Ragatha? Or was her mind just messing with her? Well, the physical contact didn’t exactly help her think clearly as her body was plagued with this disgusting sensation.

“Don’t leave me~” For whatever reason, those words made the black-haired woman sick.

The doll’s embrace tightened. The touch of the fabric felt so venomous and paralyzing. It felt sickening. It felt wrong.

The jester wanted to escape that trap. She needed to escape it, yet no matter how much the voice in her head screamed at her body to move, it wouldn’t budge an inch. She was frozen in such a predicament with nothing but her racing heart, uneven breath, and voice stuck in her throat.

She attempted to take a deep breath, only to leave herself coughing.

“Are you alright, dear?” That voice again. It made shivers run down Pomni’s spine.

She sucked in another breath and let out a very weak and broken “Ragatha”. She repeated this a few times until she made a sensible sentence: “Ragatha… Please, let go…”

“Let go?” the doll wondered innocently, “why would I do that?”

“Please…” the jester mouthed.

“It’s not like I want to hurt you.” The grip tightened even more. “I would never hurt you. I would never-” The taller woman went silent. She felt the pale jester in her arms trembling and her heart dropped.

“Pomni…” Ragatha let out softly and her embrace loosened, “y-you’re shaking…” Rather than talking to Pomni, however, she seemed to have told it to herself. Reminding it to herself as if just physically feeling it wasn't enough to make it sink in. 

Even some of the voices were yelling at her to let go while the others objected. Was it the good or bad ones? What even made them good or bad? Were there even any bad voices? Were there even any good voices?

The voices that objected weren’t yelling, but whispering yet they were somehow much louder than the yells.

“Don’t listen to them–” “You can’t let go–” “You can–!” “She’ll find Caine and tell him about us–” “She wouldn’t–” “It’s too great of a risk–!” “If Caine finds out about us, we’ll be–” “What would happen to Rags–?”

“Ragatha, don’t you care about us? Don’t you care about what happens to you?!”

She flinched, instinctively tensing her hold on Pomni. In no way did she help the situation, with the jester’s body convulsing out of control.

“What is it, dolly? Are we too much for you to handle? Are we too loud? Can you even tell the difference between us and your own thoughts? Is there even a difference at this point?”

Oh God, her knees felt weak, her head was spinning, and tears filled her eye. She felt like she was about to collapse at any moment, but there was something forcing her to stand. Something kept her body like this against her will despite her exhaustion.

“Oh, dollface, do you feel the abstraction crawling under your skin? Or well, fabric? Did we do it? Did we f̴i̷n̴a̵l̸l̴y̸ ̶b̷r̸e̶a̵k̷ ̶y̷o̴u̵?̸”

All the voices then started shouting over one another again. Ragatha couldn’t even make out what they were saying as it all blended into an incoherent mess. With so much noise in her head, she wanted to join them. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs; let out all her frustration not just with the voices, but with her whole body. It would be a beautiful relief, but even that was a luxury. Her body wouldn’t let her. They wouldn’t let her.

She’d swear that in the middle of all the noise she heard things that made her want to throw up. She hoped that it was just her imagination and her brain tried to give those noises some meaning, however… That would mean it was her own thoughts and that creeped her out even more. Strangely, some of those words weren’t anything bad, they were just…words. Yet they all sounded so disgusting. So wrong. Every last one of them.

Every last one…

Every last–

“Please…” One voice silenced all of them despite how weak and broken it was. No… No, it was loud and clear. It was…real.

It hit her like a truck. Everything that just happened in the span of a few minutes. How Pomni walked into the room, apologizing. How terrified the jester was when she saw her. How she stopped her when she tried to leave. How she was holding her this whole time despite the pain she was clearly causing Pomni.

Ragatha jumped back, letting go of the jester, allowing her to collapse to her knees. The small woman was sitting there, swinging back and forth, hyperventilating. She reached her hands to her arms as if to brace herself, but she didn’t touch. Instead, she grabbed her hat and pulled, her eyes shut. The bells one would associate with joy and fun now sounded distorted to both of the performers. The bells were… unnerving.

“Oh my gosh…” Ragatha let out as it all sank in. She covered her mouth and a tear ran down her face as she stared down at the black-haired woman. Her heart was breaking at the sight. “Oh my gosh…”

She did this… No, no, no. The voices did. Right…? She…She wasn’t in control, was she?

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry,” she mumbled, although, she wasn’t sure if Pomni could even hear her, “I-I lost control of them.” She cried more. “I messed up. Ragatha, you idiot… You %$!# idiot! You scared her. You hurt her! Why would I…? I would never-”

She felt tears rolling down her right cheek too, but that wasn’t possible. She wiped the tears with her hand and when she looked at it, her fingertips were covered by dark liquid.

Her heart stopped, realizing what that was. The dark void was leaking. The voices were right…

The bells on Pomni’s head rang again, causing Ragatha to snap out of those thoughts. There was something more important she had to do than pity herself. Her emotions could wait. Her abstraction could wait! She didn’t matter right now. She didn’t matter at all! Pomni did.

Despite her own breakdown, she rushed over to the jester, kneeling in front of her. She was in tears, barely thinking straight, potentially on the verge of abstracting, but Pomni mattered more.

Ragatha reached her hand towards the pale woman but flinched when she realized it wasn’t the brightest idea considering what caused this in the first place. She instead laid her hands on her own knees so Pomni could see them.

“Hey, Pomni?” she spoke up, her voice trembling. That sure was reassuring…

C’mon, Ragatha! Get a hold of yourself! Pomni needs you! Don’t freak her out.

She took a deep breath and ran her hand through her yarn, brushing it over her right eye to hide it. She curled her hands into fists and calmed her breath before speaking.

“Pomni, hun?” She was doing her best to keep her voice stable this time. “Look at me, please. Hun, look at me.” Pomni cringed, her body still going back and forth. “It’s okay, it’s just me. The real me, I promise,” Ragatha continued, “I just need you to look at me.” The big eyes slowly opened, showing scribbles, and looked up. “That’s it.” Ragatha smiled at her brightly. “Good job, sweetheart. Good job.”

The smaller woman was still trembling, still pulling at her hat, still swinging back and forth, still not controlling her breath. 

“Alright, dear-”

Pomni flinched at that, tears streaming down her face as she looked away. 

“O-okay! Okay,” Ragatha said in an unintentional panic. She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to freak you out. I won't call you that again, I promise. I promise. You’re safe now.”

Still in tears, the jester stopped pulling at her hat, yet the bells kept ringing. Each sob was accompanied by a happy metallic chime as her body jerked. Ragatha had to admit that it made her wails quite adorable and each little jingle seemingly made a voice in her head disappear each time. But she wished more than anything that they'd stop.

“Pomni?” Ragatha knew she had to keep trying. “Hey, Pompom, hun… Can you look at me again?”

The smaller woman didn't seem to listen. She then choked on her sobs as they didn't mix well with her rapid breathing. Seeing this, some of the voices panicked, but Ragatha had to stay calm. She instinctively lifted her hand from her knee, however, thankfully stopped herself from touching Pomni. 

“Please?” the ragdoll’s soothing voice asked and Pomni couldn't deny it. The black-haired woman turned to her, scribbles in her bloodshot eyes. 

“Good job.” A smile of relief and reassurance formed on Ragatha's face. “Now, honey, you're having another episode, but that's okay. It's okay, I'll help you through it. I’m not going anywhere. We'll get through it  together, okay?”

Pomni nodded slowly, choking on her sobs again. 

“I need you to breathe with me,” Ragatha told her, “four seconds in, hold and six out. Four, hold, six.” She waited for Pomni to nod again before she took a deep breath that the jester immediately followed, yet struggling. They held their breath, but sniffles broke them. Then they exhaled together. 

“Now, let's try again.”

And as Ragatha said, they did. Breathing was much easier for Pomni this time around. 

“You're doing great,” the redhead praised her, “are you able to go on your own?” She watched as Pomni nodded and took another deep breath with her eyes shut. “Good, keep going. You’re safe, hun. Focus on me, okay?”

When Pomni opened her eyes again, they were back to their pinwheel look. Ragatha also noticed that she stopped shaking and the swinging slowed down. Her smile widened in relief.

She kept talking to Pomni while the jester calmed her breath. They were like this for a few more minutes until…

“R-Ragatha…?” Pomni finally spoke up and the ragdoll gasped quietly.

“Welcome back, sweetheart,” Ragatha greeted her, “you feeling any better?”

“A little…” Pomni’s voice was still pretty weak, but she had much more to say. She held her hands together, rubbing her thumb with the other. “But I should be the one asking you.”

“What are you talking about?” Ragatha shook her head. “I just helped you through a panic attack-”

“And I’m forever grateful for that,” the jester blurted out, “but, Ragatha… You’re on the verge of abstracting!” They both flinched at the yell and Ragatha covered the black void on her face despite being hidden behind the hair. “And it’s all because of me.” Pomni shifted her eyes away. “Because I left you when you needed me. Again!”

“Pomni, you can’t blame yourself for that. It wasn’t your fault.”

“‘Can’t blame yourself?’ You’re the one to talk,” the pale woman scuffed. She then took a deep breath. “Sorry.”

“No, you have all the right to call me out.”

“Did it happen because of… them?” Pomni glanced at the taller woman, her eyes narrowing at the last word.

“I think so,” Ragatha replied and noticed Pomni inhaling to speak, but she quickly interrupted her, “that’s why you can’t tell Caine.”

“But, Rag-”

“You promised.”

“And you said you wanted this to stop,” Pomni reminded her, raising her voice, “I understand you don’t want them to die, but think about what they��re doing to you. Stress? Mental breakdowns? Abstraction?!” The doll lowered her head in shame. “Rags, you’re suffering and I can’t bear to watch. You care about the people around you and I appreciate that, but for once in this digital life think about yourself first.”

“No need to worry, darling,” Ragatha said calmly, looking up with a bright smile as if the topic was just a casual small talk, “the anons are actually what keeps me from abstracting, otherwise I’d be in the cellar by now.” Pomni cringed at every word due to how cheerfully the doll said them. “We’re also really, really sorry for touching you. We were so afraid of you telling Caine that we had to stop you somehow. Sorry we hurt you.”

Pomni was just staring at her, an unsure expression painted on her face. This all felt wrong and Ragatha’s next words didn’t ease that feeling.

“I’m fine, really. I’m sure that I can join in on the adventures again soon.”

No, that wasn’t right. She just said she’s afraid of Caine finding out, why does she suddenly want to take part in his adventures? And that wasn’t the only thing off.

“What happened to staying in your room to prevent infecting people with the virus?” Pomni wondered, “don’t get me wrong, the others would be happy to see you and they’re definitely worried about you. Heck, Zooble, Gangle and Kinger helped me get out of an adventure to check up on you; it’s just…”

“You’ve been spending so much time with me and you’re not influenced,” Ragatha pointed out.

Well, Pomni couldn’t argue with that. There were still many other issues with this seemingly spontaneous idea, but the more she thought about them the less sense her reasoning as to why they were even issues made. It was as if her mind was getting blurrier the more she tried to use her brain. She must’ve been tired from her previous meltdown.

“I guess you have a point.” She let out a sigh and smiled at the woman softly, but then… Did Ragatha have that wide grin on her face before? That didn’t matter right now; she needed some rest.

“Look, I know I haven’t been here in a while, but I should really go into my room and take a nap,” she explained.

“Oh, no worries, d̶e̶a̸r̴,” Ragatha replied, “have a nice sleep.”

“I’ll try. Thanks.” Pomni stood up and headed to the door. She grabbed the doorknob and turned back. “And I mean it, try thinking about yourself. It isn’t hard to care about you; me and at least three other people can agree on that.” Her smile widened as she opened the door. “And Ragatha? …I… Thank you for helping me through the attack, I really appreciate it. You’re a great friend.”

She then closed the door and stayed in the room. 

She originally planned on finding Caine the moment she was outside. She was well aware that Ragatha didn't want that, however, Pomni was willing to do anything to help her stop hurting. She didn't care if Ragatha hated her for it–she was sure she would–she just wanted her friend to be safe.

But as much as she wanted that, she couldn't bring her body to go through with it. It was as if it didn't obey her. 

“Don't leave me,” she remembered the doll's words. No, it wasn't a memory; it felt like someone just whispered in her ear. 

That's crazy. It was just her imagination. Nothing else. 

“Pomni, please. Don't leave,” Ragatha's voice begged her. It sounded so real. But there was no way Ragatha's whispers could reach her, right?

The more she thought about it, the more her mind was filled with white noise, static. And the longer that went on, the more that noise made sense to her as if it spoke to her. 

“I'm scared,” one noise was much louder. Ragatha's voice.

Pomni's not leaving her again.

She let go of the doorknob and turned around to see the ragdoll still sitting on her knees, showing Pomni her back. 

“Actually, can I stay here?” the jester asked, “I don't want you to be alone and…I'd also feel more comfortable with some company.”

“Why of course,” the doll replied, the huge grin remaining on her face. She got up and headed over to her bed. Reaching into her hair, she pulled out her bow and used it to tie her hair up in a ponytail.

“You can take a nap in my bed,” she said. 

“Oh.” Pomni blushed a little, not only at the offer but also due to the redhead’s sudden hairdo change. Whatever it was, it had some strong influence on Pomni. "Thanks."

Once at her bed, Ragatha picked up the suit she was working on when Pomni first walked in. It was nearly done. It truly was clothing worthy of someone as powerful as her; someone with influence stronger than the ringmaster himself.