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pinkteapotwriting · 3 years

Note

Sub James and sub reader with dom Sirium and dom Remus.

The doms are out and come home to see James and reader fucking without them!

Two subs together and then a punishment from the two doms!

Also. Love your writing.

This is my first ever request!

Marauders x fem!reader

Yes this is everything thank you so much for this request. I’m honored to fulfill your first one you absolute doll <3

Warning : Smut minors dni, sub!reader, sub!james, slight pet play, degradation and spanking

Word count : 2088

---

James’s cock was throbbing, completely pulsating with desire and no matter what he did, he couldn’t get it off his mind. He couldn’t get off at all actually, at least not without permission. Remus and Sirius ran a tight ship, and he knew he’d have to wait until they got home. But they were going to be much longer, and even if he could wait, they’d probably tease him for hours being in this state, just laugh at him while he begged. No. He needed his desire satiated right now. He wandered down the hall to find the shared bedroom to search for you, who had also been left behind while Remus and Sirius were off doing god knows what.

He peered in to find you reading a book on the large king size bed. Looking oh so inviting in Sirius’s t-shirt paired with your shortest sleeping shorts. He watched as you chewed on the end of your thumb absentmindedly, wishing your lips would be doing something else. He crawled up on the bed beside you and spooned in behind as close as he could get. You wiggled back into him to get comfy, and acknowledge him at the same time. But to your great surprise he whined softly behind you. You closed your book and turned so you were chest to chest, creating more torturous friction for your bespeckled boy.

“Jamie what’s wrong?”

He just whined again and instead of explaining himself he rolled over you, resituating it so he was on top of you between your legs rubbing against you, while kissing your neck. You just giggled, despite the instant feeling of pleasure of him rubbing against your clothed clit.

“Okay okay, I think I get it now, but we can’t. Remmy and Siri didn’t give us permission and they’ll get mad.”

You were much better at following the rules, but it was easy for James to get you into trouble. Tears, literal tears were forming in his eyes as he continued to grind into you, burying his face in your chest.

“Please, please y/n need it so bad. Need you so bad. It hurts, I know they could get mad but I can’t wait any longer it hurts. Please.”

You pressed a kiss to the top of his head and rubbed his hair soothingly.

“Okay Jamie, it’s okay. We have to be quick though so they don’t find out, alright? Come on baby lie down for me and let me help.”

He was relieved as he flopped on his back, hopefully Sirius and Remus would be gone away long enough.

---

“Y/N? James, we’re home!”

Remus was shedding his coat, eager to find you two so he could get some relaxation.

“Puppy? Prongs? Come on, we brought you something.”

Sirius’s eyes furrowed in confusion. Normally you two would rush down to meet them, this was odd.

“Come on Pads, maybe they’re just napping and can’t hear us.”

As they got closer and closer to the bedroom the answer became much more clear. They paused outside the door and shared a look, both expressions reflecting the features of anger, of dissatisfaction. Between the sound of the creaking bed, your whines were barely audible, while James sounded like he was getting the fucking of his life. And when they opened the door that’s exactly what they found.

Both of you being completely naked, James was over top of you missionary style, resting on his forearms, biting your shoulder, pounding into you like he’d never get to make you feel good again. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, hands in his hair, gripping it like gravity would stop working, pulling you away into the room’s atmosphere of desire and elation.

That atmosphere however, quickly turned into a different one, of tension, nervousness and guilt, when you both heard Sirius clear his throat. You both scrambled and pushed away from each other, but the damage was done. You two were in for it now. The worst part was Remus’s neutral face, his cold eyes. Sirius was the first to break the silence.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

You were sitting up now, but James was lying face down, hiding his shame against your thighs. You tried to coax him out, scratched lightly at his scalp, knowing if he kept this up he’d make the punishment worse.

“It’s alright Jamie, why don’t you just show them.”

He lifted himself and moved to the edge of the bed, now displaying his aching cock, with an angry red tip that was dripping precum as you all spoke. It was clear he hadn’t come yet, but was very very close. He swallowed thick as Remus knelt before him, terrified at what was about to come. Remus’s pointer finger drew a feather light straight line against James’s swollen member. James couldn’t take the dreadful silence anymore.

“Moony I’m sorry, it’s my fault. It hurt so much so I made Y/N feel bad so she could make it go away. I was desperate, just wanted it to go away, I’m sorry.”

Remus smiled a little before rising to his full height. If James was blubbering now, this was going to be a long night.

“James, we both know you’re not supposed to touch things that aren’t yours, right?”

“Right.”

“See, that’s the thing. You were being greedy and selfish. Touching what didn’t belong to you. Touching me and Sirius’s puppy. Such a needy slut, couldn’t even wait and when Pads and I were only out to bring you and Y/N a present.”

James looked at Sirius (who had his arms crossed and jaw clenched) then back up at Remus.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, but you will be.”

You were playing with your fingers nervously, mentally preparing yourself for your punishment as Sirius approached you. Your jaw was placed between Sirius’s thumb and fingers, pulling you closer to his lips, but instead he moved past your face to your ear.

“You’re supposed to be a good puppy, for me and Remus’s pleasure. Not for your own and certainly not for James. That clear pup?”

You nodded as much as his fierce grip would allow.

“Good, now lie down on Jamsie’s lap.”

As soon as he released you, you quickly did as you were told, shaking with anticipation as both Remus and Sirius undressed completely. You could feel James’s cock throb against you, it being pressed upright between your hip and his stomach.

Sirius joined you so he was beside James, your head close to his lap. While Remus was on the opposite side rubbing and kneading your ass.

“You’re gonna suck my cock bubs, while Remmy spanks your ass okay?”

You stuck out your tongue and opened your mouth wide for him so he could angle himself and slip past your lips.

“Moony how many swats?”

“15, only cause I wanna see her squirm while your dick is in her mouth.”

“Okay bubs, 15 hits and you’re done. 15 swats and you get to be our good puppy again. James you count. This alright love?”

You bobbed down on his dick in response.

“There’s the good girl we trained so well.”

Smack. “O-one.” “Two.”

At first it seemed like you were the only one being punished, but at closer inspection one could tell that with every jolt you made, James was right there with you. Because every movement reminded him of how over sensitive he was as your hip brushed against his length.

Smack “T-te”

Remus rolled his eyes. “You’re so pathetic, Y/N is being such a good girl for us and you can’t even handle her being spanked. If Y/N wasn’t being so obedient I’d make you restart. We’re at ten.”

You just hummed around Sirius as the rest of your punishment ensued, feeling like you got off pretty easy. Not that you would tell them that. James on the other hand, well, poor James. He looked at you longingly, wanting it to be his throat that Sirius was cumming down. Sirius held your cheek in his palm so he could soothe it with his thumb before running it along your bottom lip.

“Such a good pup sucking my cock so well. Need you to do something else yeah.”

You just looked up at him and nodded, peering up at him with your doe eyes. He groaned at the look of innocence you could portray so easily before taking your hand and turning you towards Remus. He pulled you in for a kiss, holding you tight as you melted into him. You were immediately interrupted by James’s needy whines, so reluctantly, Remus pulled away.

“You’re eager to be punished now, are you James? Alright then, move to the middle of the bed and lie on your back, now.”

As he did what he was told Remus guided you to straddle his waist.

“Okay Puppy you can sit on his cock, but no moving understand?”

“Yes Remmy.”

James through his head back in frustration as you sank down on him.

“Please, please I’ve learned my lesson please.”

You stayed rooted, not exactly eager to piss off your boys again, while Remus stood off to the side of the bed with his hand guiding Sirius up and down on his cock, staring with nothing but malcontent. James cried some more, tears rolling down his cheeks, heavier than before.

“Please it hurts please!”

Your eyebrows knit together in pity. You did everything you could to soothe him but it was no use. You would stroke his face, pepper kisses across his face, rub his chest, but the only thing you could to solve the problem was the one thing you weren’t allowed to do.

“It’s alright Jamie, it’ll be okay.”

You took a deep breath, risking punishment again as your heart broke wiping away his tears.

“Remmy, Siri, please let him cum. He didn’t mean to, it was hurting him please. He knows he’s yours he’s learned his lesson. Isn’t that right Jamie?”

Remus gripped Sirius’s hair tighter, fucking his throat with vigor as he got closer to gis own release.

“Alright pup you know what to do.” You started moving up and down on him as he thrust up desperately into you. “Tell me James, who do you belong to?”

“Y-you Moony. You and padfoot.”

“Good boy, you can cum now come on, do it with me.”

Sirius’s mouth and your pussy were painted white simultaneously not much later. James’s face finally relaxed, thrilled he finally was relieved of the torturous tension. That was until Sirius cut in.

“Puppy, Remus didn’t say you could stop did he? Keep going.”

Sirius moved to hold down James’s chest as he writhed underneath you

“Pads no it’s too much, it’s too much.”

“Y/N was so nice to beg to let you cum and now you won’t return the favor? You really are a selfish whore.”

Remus approached James from the other side and slipped his middle and pointer finger past his lips.

“There, that’ll shut him up. Keep going bubs you’re doing so good.”

With his other hand he reached to thumb your clit, letting out the prettiest noise Sirius and Remus had ever heard.

“It’s okay Jamie, m’close, so close. Can I cum. Please?”

Remus circled his thumb faster.

“Go ahead darling make a mess.”

You really didn’t understand how James had waited so long. It didn’t matter anymore though as you pulled out and collapsed against his chest. But Sirius was pulling you off of James completely while Remus soothed James.

“It’s alright Prongs, you can be our good boy again. Here, let’s show you what we bought.”

You and James sat against the headboard as Remus and Sirius each handed you a little box. When you opened them you found two matching delicate chains, the kind with a horizontal rectangle in the middle. But the best part was seeing the engraved initials S.B. and R.L. on the pendant.

“It’s so pretty can you put it on for me Siri?”

Sirius grinned at your excitement while clipping the necklace in the back, while Remus did the same for James. Sirius was kissing up and down the side of your neck, wanting to provide extra proof of who you belonged to while Remus fondled the pendant on James, appreciating the color choice against his flushed skin.

“There we go, now it’ll be a lot harder to forget who you belong to now huh.”

And you would never want to.

---

@sunny-bunnny @quindolyn @weasleyposts @accioweaslcy

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black smut #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin smut #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter smut #marauders #marauders x reader #marauders smut #smut #harry potter fanfiction #fanfiction #harry potter smut #fanfiction smut

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skellebonez · 3 years

Text

Happy Birthday Winter!

Hey @winterpower98 it's your birthday! I really hope you enjoy this, I know I had a ton of fun writing it for you! Actor AU is one of my favorite AUs you've made and coming back to play around with it again was a blast and a half!

Painter MK cackled, taking the brushes filled with bright pink paint into his fists.

“Yes, yes!” He exclaimed, brushing them against his cheeks and bringing another to run up the center of his face. “The art is-OW! OW, THE ART IS IN MY EYE!”

“Cut!” The director yelled, bringing the entire film production to a halt in an instant. “Xiaotian, what happened?”

The young actor dropped the paintbrushes into the hands of a stage worker to rushed over to help him, one hand covering his right eye as he tried to keep himself from laughing. “I think some of it splashed when I waved the brush at my face. I guess the art really IS-”

“Don’t say it,” Heshang said from the other side of the set, doing his best not to join his co-star in laughter.

“-seeping into my pores!”

The entire cast and crew groaned as Xiaotian cackled again, with a few added ows, before another stage hand came by with a bottle of water.

~3…2…1~

“Uh…” Xiaojiao pulled, attempting to pull the prop sword from above her head out of the wall only to be met with… a lot more resistance than should probably be there. “UH…? It’s stuck?”

She stood, attempting to pull it out normally only to be met with just as much resistance.

“It’s stuck!” She laughed, out, bracing a foot on the wall with no change.

“Let me try,” General Ironclad, or rather Red in the costume of General Ironclad for the episode, offered, attempting to do the same with the exact same result as his co-star. “What did you use to hold this in place? Cement!?”

“It should have only been stuck in with force!” A stage hand yelled as Xiaotian and Heshang joined in, both failing to pull the sword out from the false wall and Heshang nearly toppling over backwards with his additional costume pieces.

“Whoever stuck that in there needs to be moved to making sure the safety equipment stays connected!” Xiaotian offered, watching as even more people tried to remove the sword. “That is not coming out.”

~3…2…1~

Heshang held Mo in his arms, waltzing around the set as he waited for places to be called for with the shockingly content feline in his arms.

~3…2…1~

“You are selling beautiful vegetables today?” Pigsy said, leaning over the the display to give an awkward smile to the disguised Spider Queen.

Tang looked over the produce from where he knelt, looking back up at his companion with a concerned and confused look. “Are you… a-are-PFT-FUCK.”

Everyone on set burst into laughter as Tang did, both of his fellow actors holding back from laughing themselves.

“Why is it this line!?” Tang yelled in frustration as he continued laughing. “It’s not a hard line! I wrote this line! Why do I keep laughing at the last word!?”

“Maybe if Ganglie wasn’t making goo-goo eyes at me you’d keep straight face,” Zhi-Zhu Jing managed to get out through her laughter.

“That’d be the only thing straight about me.”

~3…2…1~

Dicky Cheung, or the actual Sun Wukong disguised as a human actor in full costume of himself, took a running leap and jumped onto the counter of Pigsy’s noodles, sliding to a perfect stop with a wink toward the camera.

~3…2…1~

“MK, there’s something I wanted to tell you…” Mei said, looking at MK with sparkles in her eyes before snickering. “Stop looking at me like that, it’s hard enough to keep a straight face during this scene!”

“Sorry!” Xiaotian yelled to the camera. “I can’t help it! How are Jin and Yin this wrong about these two in the show?”

“Himbos!” was the shouted answer from Tang at the other end of the set.

~3…2…1~

“One of the rare talents that no one knew the great Sun Wukong possessed…” Xiaojiao said ominously, camera panning over to Mr. Cheung in full costume. “Surprisingly good peach juggling!”

“Gotta keep myself occupied somehow!” The actor laughed out, catching two peaches in either hand while the last one was caught perfectly in his mouth to the applause of everyone watching.

~3…2…1~

“Thanks for the Key los-AH!”

Red flung his arms wildly, key flying into the air as Tie Shan rushed forward and caught him just before he face planted into the ground.

“Mine!” Mr. Cheung yelled as he caught the key mid air and rushed through the frame.

“YOU’RE NOT EVEN IN THIS EPISODE!”

~3…2…1~

“Thank you… for giving me all o-ooh, whoa!” Lui Er Mihou, or unbeknownst to nearly all Six-Eared Macaque in disguise much the same way as Sun Wukong was, yelped as the cable that was supposed to gently raise him and make him look like he was floating yoinked him as good 4 feet off the ground way too fast. “That’s too much power!”

“SORRY!” The line operator shouted, fiddling with the controls. “Someone loaded the weight setting for Xiaotian into your line instead of yours.”

“I already feel bad enough treating him like garbage and beating him up in this role, this is just rubbing salt in the wound,” Liu Er muttered, leaning back and swinging limply much to the amusement of everyone who couldn’t hear him before raising his voice. “When will my beloved friend Sun Wukong come to rescue me?”

“SPEAK MY NAME AND I SHALL APPEAR!”

Liu Er yelped in surprise as Mr. Cheung rushed in and grabbed him from beneath to hold him bridal style with a shit eating grin. He couldn't help the flush on his cheeks in response.

“HOW DO YOU KEEP SHOWING UP IN SHOTS WHEN YOU AREN’T SUPPOSED TO BE THERE YET!?” The director yelled with more than a little amusement in his voice despite the disruption.

~3…2…1~

“You!” DBK said, rounding on Red Son. “You have brought me nothing but failure! Time and time again! I keep telling you I… shit, I can’t remember the next line when you look that sad, I am so sorry.”

“Nothing but disappointment?” Red offered helpfully, immediately breaking out of his downcast somber gaze to the floor with a wide smile.

“It is scary how fast you get in and out of character sometimes, kid,” Niu Mowang laughed out, clearly resisting the urge to ruffle the younger actor’s hair lest he ruin the styling job that took far too long every time they got dressed.

~3…2…1~

The White Bone Spirit stood at the entrance to the Silken Web Cave, looking at the camera before far too much time passed from when she was supposed to say he line. She moon walked backwards out of the frame without changing her expression one bit as the other actors devolved into cackles.

~3…2…1~

“The Year of the Spider starts tonight!” Spider Queen proclaimed from her high vantage point before she muttered something under her breathe, narrowing her gaze and then looking off to the side. “Or next year ‘cause I don’t remember my line.”

~3…2…1~

Huntsman slowly lowered into frame, upside down and gripping the rigging holding him up like Spiderman.

~3…2…1~

“Oh yeah?” Sun Wukong said, appearing in frame as he walked down the wall MK was embedded in. He grabbed his staff, yanking it out of the wall and jumped down and smacked the wall with it.

… only for it to go through the wall once again and crack it. Or, rather, the false wall that was on a tilted angle to make it look like he was talking down it, rather than a heavily slanted floor.

“I’m sorry!” Mr. Cheung yelled, looking at the damage he caused. “I must have hit at weak spot!”

He hoped no one noticed that when MK offered to get the prop staff for this shot and put it into the wall… he grabbed the real one by accident.

~3…2…1~

Nui Mowang held the little bird that was Wukong’s transformation stand in for one of the final scenes, gently petting the little head with a big goofy smile on his face.

~END~

The entire cast sat around on various travel tables right outside the small Lunar New Year Festival set they had set up, various extras that had answered the open invitation for the shoot going about and getting the free food that was available at the functional stalls provided by the catering they had hired.

It was an odd sight to see Red Son and Spider Queen and Sun Wukong and everyone else sitting around together, but Liu Er Mihou being there outside of his Macaque costume broke the illusion a little bit.

It was the final day of shooting for the season 2 opening special to Monkie Kid, Revenge of the Spider Queen, and everyone was there. Even people who didn’t have to come in wanted to give a temporary farewell to Tie Shan, Nui Mowang, and Red before season 2 proper began shooting. There was still a chance they could bebcalled in for bit roles, the scripts weren’t entirely finished yet, but as far as anyone knew the Demon Bull Family wasn’t going to be returning properly any time soon.

Maybe in season 3, Tang had teased, holding the begun scripts for that in his little tablet away from prying eyes. And they were always welcome to help out in bit roles, background characters or voice over or to use their other talents to work other jobs that were needed around the set.

But even before then it would be a while.

And so that’s how Red found himself sandwiched between Long Xiaojiao and Qi Xiaotian, with the newly added member of their quartet in her full White Bone Spirit costume hanging over his shoulder to watch the compilation that Xiaojiao had expertly edited on her phone for them all.

“The director gave me permission to use whatever I wanted and I though that… maybe we could all have it for ourselves,” Xiaojiao offered, pulling up the wireless transfer option on her phone. “To watch when we miss each other being on set together. I know we’re going to probably be back together with Red Son eventually! But…”

“I’ll miss shooting with you too,” Red said smiling softly as he pulled out his own phone to accept the file. “Hopefully Mr. Tang isn’t just teasing us about season 3.”

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #fanfic #gen fic #actor au #ensemble cast #shadowpeach #(hinted)#scheduled

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fandom-go-round · 3 years

Text

Types of Love: Original Drider x Reader

Mod May Week One Story! I had a lot of fun with this, I hope everyone enjoys! This is a fluffy story about a modern drider x human couple figuring out their new home.The poll for week 2 will go live tomorrow.

Warnings: Implied Sexual Content

It takes four different phone calls before you actually get past the word ‘drider’. The contractor’s website looks like its orcish run and you pray that this man isn’t just going to laugh you off the phone. That happened yesterday.

“That’s an odd thing you’re requesting.” The orc’s voice is rough and low, sounding like gravel rolling down a hill. You give an exhausted laugh, leaning against your kitchen wall.

“Tell me about it. You’re the fourth contractor I’ve called.” He rumbles over the phone, silence falling before he laughs loudly.

“Fuck it? Ya know what, I’ve never built one before but we can figure it out.” You grin, face lighting up.

“Really? Are you sure?” He snorts at your question, laughing again.

“Of course. Give me your information and I’ll come out tomorrow to take a look.” You quickly give him your information and address, setting up a time for Luc’tic (turned out he was the owner of the company) and some of his men to come out. You hang up, feeling more hopefully than you had all week.

You quickly move to the back of the house, tidying up as you go. You’re sure the orcs won’t care about the mess but you will, at least when they walk in. You stand in front of the wall you want blown out, letting out a slow breath.

“Darling?” You jump at the sound of Dominic’s voice, watching as your lover comes around the corner. She smiles when she sees you, fangs exposed and black eyes crinkling. You grin back and walk over to her, standing on your toes to wrap your arms around her neck.

“Hey babe, welcome home. How was work?” Dom sighs, giving you a squeeze and gently setting you back on the ground.

“Work was alright, lots of people coming in. Wedding season is getting closer and I keep getting commissions.”

“That’s great!” When she sees your smile Dom smiles back, leaning down to kiss your forehead and let out a short groan.

“I know, I’m just tired and it means I have longer hours.” You hum, reaching around to gently rub the beginning of her abdomen. She shudders, leaning closer to you and wrapping her other set of arms around your waist.

“I know baby. It’s exciting though, that the business is taking off.” Dom hums, nuzzling your neck and staying there for a moment before moving away.

“So, what’s the plan for dinner? Do you want me to cook?” You hum, taking one of her hands and gently swinging her arm. Dom’s skin was soft like normal, the dark purple looking like satin in the soft light. You admire her as she begins to move back into the kitchen, her abdomen and legs moving lightly over the floor. It was always amazing to you that she was able to move so nimbly, even on the hardwood.

“We can cook together. I want to help.” Dom turned to you with another smile, rattling off dinner ideas as she moved into the kitchen. You watched her go, vowing to make this surprise work for her. She deserved everything and then some.

xxx

Luc’tic was a massive orc. His tucks were bigger than your head and when you opened the door to let him in, you could only see his chest until he bent over. You let him and two other orcs in, the entire group looking around as you led them into the backroom.

Your house was far from conventional. To make things easier for Dominic, you had been remodeling the house. Mostly it was widening doorways and moving things like cabinets and the shower. There was one thing, however, that you wouldn’t be able to do on your own.

“What did you call this thing again?” Luc’tic breaks you out of your thoughts, turning to watch the younger orcs as they begin to measure the wall. Both of them are younger, one with dark green skin and the other a lighter shade of moss. They keep elbowing each other and whispering, clearly talking about you. You watch as Luc’tic smacks them both on the back of the head and bark something in orcish. You laugh a little, answering his question.

“It’s called a Spider Window. They’re popular in drider households and I want to see how much it would be to install.”

“It’s just a giant window, right?” You turn to the moss-colored orc, giving a smile at his honest question.

“Mostly. It’s a floor to ceiling window but it’s more like a dome. Some have beams so that driders can spin webs in them.”

“What are you looking for?” Luc’tic asks, writing the measurements down as you begin to talk.

“I know that for code reasons it can’t go all the way to the floor. I think that’s better actually because I’d rather have it span the wall, or as much of it as you can. I would like to have a frame built too, something sturdy that could hold her weight.”

“This is gonna be a custom job.” Luc’tic looked up at you, raising an eyebrow. “It’s going to be expensive. You ok with that?” You nodded at the question.

“Yeah, I figured it would be.” The orc nodded back, finishing up his notes and offering you a smile.

“I’ll send you a quote. We should be able to get out next week if you like the quote.” You talk about the details a little more, walking them to the door.

“Sounds like a plan. Thank you so much for coming out.” Luc’tic gave you a grin, taking his men with him. You watched them go, smiling to yourself and vowing that you would afford this room.

Dom suspects something when she gets home, trying to pull you into her arms and you dance out of the way.

“You’re in a good mood.” All four of her eyes narrow, looking over your face and trying to figure out what was going on.

“I’m allowed to be in a good mood.” You tease back, gently flicking a towel at her as she moves closer.

“What has you in such a good mood?”

“It’s a surprise.” Dom hums at your response, starting to grin.

“A surprise for me?” You laugh, shaking your head at her question.

“You’ll have to wait until you’re back from your trip.” She groans, shaking her head.

“That’s two weeks from now!”

“Don’t worry, it’s worth the wait.” You wink and she chuckles, quickly moving over to you. Without a word she picks you up, moving towards the bedroom. Any cries to stop were ignored, Dom determined to make you squeal for her.

xxx

It’s easy to hide the job from Dom while she’s out of town. You don’t mention the construction and she’s busy with her conference. She doesn’t call until the afternoon, once Luc’tic and his nephews had left. You’re exited that her sewing business is taking off, knowing that it’s been her dream for years.

The orcs are impressive with their strength and timing; you would have never guessed they were new to building a Spider Window. It was fun to watch the boys, Kuter and Repurt argue and tease each other throughout the day. You could tell their uncle was exasperated by their puns, but it made the day go by faster for.

The price was a little more than you wanted but this was going to be your forever home. You were going to start a family here and Dominic would be as comfortable as possible. Luc’tic was a good man under his gruff exterior and the two of you got along surprisingly well.

It took a little over six days to get everything installed and configured correctly. There were some issues with the frame, mostly about how it was going to hold the combined weight of Dom and you but Luc’tic was able to add some more supports to make it work. The end result was perfect, a domed window that Dom could spin a web into.

You only had a day to clean everything up and add the finishing touches, running around town to find good pillows and comfy things to add to the space. The natural light was beautiful, and you wanted to put your own style on it.

“Babe?” You looked up from fluffing a pillow, grinning as you heard Dom begin to walk through the house.

“Back here!” You heard her giggle at your call, moving towards you.

“Are you with my surprise?” You laughed at her question, not able to contain your glee.

“I am! You should be excited.”

“I am! I really have no idea what it-“ Dom abruptly cut herself off, freezing in the doorway and staring at the window. You were grinning so hard that your cheeks hurt, moving out of the way so she could look it over. Her steps were slow, fingers gently trailing over the window and frame, front legs rubbing together happily.

“What do you think?” Your voice snapped her out of her thoughts, Dom turning to look at you for a moment before scooping you up. You laughed, struggling weakly as she began to cover your face in kisses.

“Silly human. You didn’t have to do this.” Her voice was thick with unshed tears, burying her face into your neck. You hummed, running your fingers through her hair, letting the red locks settle onto her shoulders.

“I wanted to. It’s a gift, for you.” She whimpered, taking a few moments to collect herself before pulling back. She cupped your face and kissed you, hard. You moaned as she began to nibble on your lip, gasping as she began to move.

“Dominic!” Your lover ignored the cry of her name, body quickly beginning to build a web. “What are you doing!?”

“I’m going to fuck you in this window.” She moaned, her second set of arms quickly beginning to strip you.

“B-babe…” You tried to protest but it was too late; she had you in her grasp and wasn’t going to let go. Not that you were going to complain. At least the window faced the woods; thank God for small miracles.

#original monster #drider x reader #drider imagine #monster girlfriend #monster boyfriend #exophilia #drider #original drider

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sombreboy · 4 years

Text

Clipped wings♕yandere!prince!jjk

♮ 18+ ♮ xtremity: 4 ♮ pairing: prince jjk x female reader ♮ genre: soft smut, light angst, royal au, soft yandere ♮ word count: 7.7k ♮ warnings: light angst, soft yandere, possessive behavior, stockholm syndrome themes, soft smut, virgin!reader, oral(f), fingering, praise ‘dirty’ talk, unprotected sex/creampie.

A/N: This has been in my drafts for so long and here he finally is. I want to thank @ppersonna for being my soft smut aid, I couldn’t have finished this without you. And thank you @chimoona for being a good support to keep me from throwing this fic into the trash can at several occasions. ily or something. Also thank you to my dear @carly-bean-blog for helping me out with this gorgeous banner. chu♡

It was a late night, the darkness illuminated by the continuous lightning strikes flashing, rain pouring down so hard that it was hard to see further than a few meters ahead.

It was the worst thunderstorm in history, you were sure of it.

Unfortunately, you were in the midst of it, lost in the woods as you tried to navigate your way back to town.

But to no avail, you were completely disoriented, panic rushing through your spine as you felt your clothes getting heavier, soaked by the cold rain.

Aimlessly wandering for shelter, you end up in a large garden, following the trail of flowers until you reach two grand doors. You look up, palms placed flat on the surface, your eyes squinting to get a better look of it. You couldn’t see very well, but this was a very large building-- A castle?

Another strike of lightning sparked in the sky, the silhouette of the castle visible for a split second, and you gasp, startled from the roaring sound. In the midst of it, you decide to knock three times on the wooden doors.

A long moment passes, until you take a step back when the two doors slowly creaked open. Keeping one hand over your face to shelter your eyes from the rain, you’re able to distinguish the frame of a man standing by the doorway,

‘‘Who may this be?’’

Must be a butler, his voice deep and smooth. He didn’t look very pleased, however.

‘‘I-I just.... I’m lost, and-’‘

‘‘I’m sorry, we are unable to help. Unless you have business with the prince, you must leave immediately.’‘

You took a step closer, a frown on your face, ‘’You’re going to leave me here in the cold? It’s pouring!’’

The butler didn’t move, but his eyes were apologetic, ‘’I’m sorry, ma’am.’’

‘‘I’ll die from the cold!’‘ You pleaded. It felt partially true, you were freezing, soaked and lost. How could one be so heartless?

The butler pursed his lips, as if he was trying to find a solution, ‘’Then... step inside for a moment.’’ he ushered for you to get inside just far enough for you to be sheltered by the building, closing the doors behind you before he strides through the hall towards a room, ‘’Wait there, I will be back shortly.’’

So, you did. You waited, for what felt like forever.

Until finally, the footsteps of the butlers heeled boots echoed through the large hallway was heard as he returned, a vague smile on his lips as he bowed at you,

‘‘The prince would like to see you.’‘

You tilted your head to the side, ‘’He would?’’

The butler nods, ushering for you to follow behind him, so you do.

When reaching the next large door, the butler opens them before stepping to the side, announcing your presence, ‘’She’s here, my lord.’’

You walk in, unsure of what to say or do, jumping where you stand as the doors slam shut behind you, leaving you alone with this.... prince.

‘‘Who are you?’‘ His smooth voice snapped your attention towards the man standing by the window, back facing you.

From what you could see, he was very young. A lot younger than you expected, probably around your age if you weren’t mistaken.

He had raven hair, a form fitted suit showcasing his perfectly sculpted proportions, a slim waist with broad shoulders.

Please, let him at least have a less attractive face.

The prince turned around slowly, a wine glass swirling in his hand while the other was stuffed deep down the pocket of his suit pants.

Of course he was beautiful.

‘‘Let me ask you again,’’ he said, taking one sip from his wine as he slowly sauntered over to you, the echoing of his heels clacking against the floor prominent in the grand room, ‘’Who are you? And what do you want?’’

Your eyebrows were drawn together, gaze following him as he circled around you like some kind of predator eyeing its prey.

‘‘I’m Y/N. I simply wish for shelter from the storm until it passes, then I will be on my way.’’

The prince hummed, his eyes drawn to the liquid in his glass as he’s in thought,

‘‘And why should I grant you this wish?’‘

What? Wish?

‘‘Are you serious?’‘ You grew annoyed, crossing your arms over your chest. Ah, your clothes were cold... Looking at him, your eyes were annoyed, yet pleading, ‘‘It’s a very bad storm, I can’t go back out...’‘

‘‘Then what do you offer?’‘ He glanced back up at you with a serious face.

What could you possibly offer a prince? He had everything he could ever desire.

But, you did have one thing that could not be bought...

‘‘I could sing for you.’‘

The prince’s eyes widened, he didn’t expect that out of all things you could’ve offered. ‘’Huh? I mean...What?’’

Now he’s the one speechless. huh.

‘‘Yes,’‘ You take one daring step forward, ‘‘I’m not rich, nor do I have anything of... value to give. But.. I can sing. Isn’t it awfully quiet in this large castle all by yourself?’‘

He rolled his tongue on the inside of his cheek, placing the glass down on the nearby desk before crossing his own arms over his chest. ‘’Go on then. Sing for me.’’

His command causes you to take a deep breath, giving him a short nod. God, you wish you would’ve been able to change into dry clothes first... Hopefully, this would be enough for him to let you stay, and maybe even accommodate some dry fabrics for your freezing body.

Jungkook leaned against his desk, fingers thrumming against his bicep as they were crossed. He wasn’t expecting much, honestly. But, he was truly bored-- why not mess with this strange girl before throwing her out?

But, he spoke too soon, and his premature judgement backfired. As soon as you cleared your throat, a shaky tune escaped your parted lips. With every word you sang, your voice got steadier and more secure in your abilities. The cold was less of a bother as the piercing, fixated gaze of the prince heated your entire being.

He was absolutely mesmerized by your voice, his lips fell slightly agape, his body stiffening. He expected nothing special, but this... It was probably-- no, it was without a doubt the most beautiful sound he’s ever been blessed with. It touched his soul, his heart pounded beneath his rib cage so hard it felt like it would burst, eyes now focused on your effortless beauty despite your messy damp hair and soaked clothes. You were way beyond physical beauty.

He’d already made his decision by now.

‘‘Enough.’‘ The prince had closed the distance between the two of you, his body standing right in front of yours. You hadn’t noticed that he came up to you until your eyes opened, breath hitched at his close proximity. Your doe eyes stared up at him, his own dark orbs swirling with an unnamed emotion.

‘‘S-so...?’‘ You whisper, hoping that it was enough for him to let you stay the night.

He smiled softly, reaching to stroke your cheek with the back of his hand. ‘‘I’ll need you to sing for me once more,’‘ He paused to snap his fingers, the maid that you didn’t even notice was in the room ushers you out of the room to lead you to your own.

Jungkook wanted to hear it again. And again... And again… For the rest of eternity.

~ ~ ~

The following morning you felt well rested, the large bed and dry nightgown provided worked wonders. Peering around the room, you realized that you’d possibly overstayed your welcome, the sun shining through the large... locked and barred window? Odd. Safety precautions, supposedly.

You pushed the bedspread away from your body to stand up, heading towards the door to leave.

It was locked.

‘’What the..?’’

You were in disbelief, jerking the handle once, twice. It wouldn’t budge. You were locked in.

‘’Hello?... I can’t get out! Open the door!’’ You yelled through the keyhole, fist slamming against the wooden surface of the door, hoping that somebody in the large castle would hear you.

As soon as you were about to slam your hand against the door once more, it suddenly opened. It was the kind butler, handing you a stack of clean clothes and an apologetic smile.

‘’The prince has instructed for you to join him for dinner this evening,’’ He pauses to make sure you’re keeping up, his lopsided smile still present, ‘’Please put this on before then. I will return when it is time.’’

He puts the fabrics in your hands before you’re able to even think of a response, your eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

‘’Wait-- Why was the door locked?’’ You pleaded for an answer, but the butler avoided the question, and simply took a step back before slowly closing the door, the expression on his eyes nothing but penitent.

You couldn’t believe what was happening, eyes widening as you dropped everything to the floor, attempting once again to open the door, but within the same second the click of the lock striked the room, and the fading sound of footsteps leaving in the hallway.

What were you supposed to do the entire day?

And why did the prince want you to stay for dinner?

And for god's sake, why on earth were you locked in? You thought the prince wanted you out as soon as humanly possible. Nothing made sense.

A defeated sigh pushed through your lips as you picked up the clothes that you’d dropped, heading over to place them on the bed. You wonder if the prince himself had personally picked out this ensemble for you. Not that it mattered. You lift the cloth to inspect the dark purple fabrics, a cocktail style dress… and honestly… you’d lie if you said it wasn’t beautiful.

~ ~ ~

The evening finally arrived, and you actually had gotten ready in lack of anything else to do, dress on with the matching shoes-- even the little bracelet provided, a small silver dangle attached shaped like a little bird. You figured, you might as well oblige to the prince’s wishes, and hopefully you’d be able to leave after this… dinner.

Meanwhile, Jungkook had made sure that everything was up to his expectations; the grand table filled with a variety of delicacies. He circled the table several times, sharp eyes observing that every single detail was up to par. And it was, he hummed in content before his gaze landed on his butler. ‘’Bring the lady, make sure she’s dressed for the occasion.’’

‘’Yes, my lord.’’

~ ~ ~

A firm knock on the door caught your attention as you were observing yourself in the large mirror. Suddenly, you almost felt nervous-- jittery. Taking a deep breath, you head towards the door, waiting for whoever is behind it to open it for you. ‘’Are you dressed?’’ The deep voice on the other side muttered.

‘’Yes.’’ As soon as you voiced your reply, the door swung open, this time a boxy smile adorning the butlers face instead of the crooked one you’d almost gotten used to. It was nice to see he had any other expression than a gloomy one.

You were guided downstairs to the dining hall. As soon as you entered through the two large doors, you felt so incredibly small. You jumped when the doors were slammed shut behind you, and a sudden hand gently placed on your lower back to usher you to your seat.

Jungkook crooked his eyebrow at the butler's daring move and gave him a warning glare as he pushed your seat in behind you.

‘’Welcome, Y/N.’’ Jungkook clasped his hands on the table, leaning forward as his eyes roamed down the outfit you’d put on… The attire he’d chosen especially for you. His gaze landed on the small bracelet on your wrist, the silver bird dangle beautifully decorating you like a piece of art.

‘’Thank you..’’ You replied, a bit unsure of this situation. But you decided to enjoy it. Why not? It’s not everyday that you’d get to dine with royalty. All this food smelled heavenly. Jungkook snapped his fingers, and on cue the butler poured your wine, while the maid put food on your plates. When he was satisfied, he told them to leave the room and wait outside.

Jungkook wanted utter privacy with you.

‘’What do you think of this?’’ Jungkook asked, gesturing around the room; but he meant everything. The castle.

‘’It’s divine,’’ You answered truthfully as you sipped your wine to wash down the food, ‘’Is it just you here?’’

‘’Yeah,’’ He nodded, a small smile on his lips. It almost looked sad, ‘’If you don’t count my servants.’’

The dinner was pleasant, surprisingly. There wasn’t much conversation, but a simple comfortable silence with the occasional comment about the delicious cuisines that were offered. While you were gazing around the room, chewing your food in content, Jungkook’s eyes were completely transfixed on you. The way your nose scrunched slightly from the bitter aftertaste of the wine. The way you continuously placed strands of your hair behind your ear, to just how enchanting you looked in the attire he’d dressed you in.

He felt lucky that he found you. Or rather, you found him. It couldn’t be anything but fate. Jungkook believed it. He stayed this way for a while, enjoying the silent admiration he was giving you. He hadn’t had this kind of company… Ever. It was new, and he didn’t want to let it go. Suddenly the silence felt suffocating.

‘’Sing for me.’’ Jungkook asked softly, swirling the wine glass in his hand. His eyes followed the flow of the liquid for a second before shifting his piercing gaze to your face.

You stopped yourself from questioning him, knowing he knows that you heard him the first time. But that didn’t mean your eyebrows weren’t raised in surprise. ‘’Okay.’’ After all, he had told you that he wanted to hear you sing one more time.

Jungkook’s doe eyes sparkled in awe as he leaned back in his chair, completely forgetting about the glass in his hand. He couldn’t even think, just listen-- and stare at you the second you got up from your chair and sing. The way your lips moved with every word, his eyes followed. The small gestures of your hands made him want to hold them. And the brightness in your eyes that he hadn’t noticed before, had his heart pounding heavily in his chest.

This is it. She’s the one.

While you sang, he’d slowly gotten up from his seat, placing the glass on the table to leave it behind. Approaching you, his hands reached out to grab your wrist and pull you close to his chest. Your singing stopped with a surprised yelp, staring at the little bracelet he was observing as he held your wrist up for the two of you to view.

‘’You know what this is?’’ He asked, grasping the little dangle decoration between his thumb and index finger.

‘’A dove?’’ You said, a bit confused as to what he meant. It was obviously a dove.

‘’Correct,’’ He chuckled, the endearing smile of his growing, ‘’A symbol of peace.’’ A piece of peace in Jungkook’s world.

You hum in agreement, still not sure what he’s implying. Trying to pull your wrist away, he willingly let go, but replaced the empty spot in his palm by placing it on your waist. This was awfully close, and you felt your face heat up in embarrassment.

‘’I-- thank you for the dinner… But, I should really get going now.’’ You glanced towards the window, seeing the sun shining bright, ‘’The storm has passed.’’

Jungkook’s smile faltered at your words, slowly morphing into a frown when you stepped away from his grasp. His hands fell to his sides, looking at you as if you had just torn his heart out of his chest. But you didn’t notice. ‘’Don’t leave.’’

You were on your way to the door, hand grasping the handle before his words stopped you, causing you to look over your shoulder at the prince. Silence filled the room, and the air grew thicker.

‘’I have to leave. I can’t stay here. I need to go home.’’

Jungkook sighed, clenching his jaw as he stared at the floor. He almost looked like a child throwing a tantrum when they didn’t get what they wished for. ‘’You can’t.’’ He murmured.

‘’Watch me.’’ You huffed, jerking the door open before stepping out into the grand hall, striding towards the door with a made up mind. You were going home, you shouldn’t get used to this lifestyle. It was only for one night. You made it to the grand entrance, pushing with your entire body strength and pulling at the handle-- but it wouldn’t budge. It was locked. Your eyes searched for a way to unlock it, you were inside of the building after all. Why couldn’t you open it?

‘’Y/N..’’ Jungkook startled you, appearing behind you so suddenly. His voice was calm, arms crossed over his chest. A concerned look played on his face.

‘’Why is the door locked?’’ You asked, confusion obvious in your expression as you let go of the handle to turn to him.

‘’I told you, you can’t leave.’’ He sighed, clacking his tongue in annoyance. Why didn’t you get it?

‘’Why?’’

‘’I want you to stay… Be my little bird.’’

‘’What… what do you mean ‘little bird’?’’

‘’Sing for me, always.’’ The look in his eye was serious, yet gentle. He stepped closer, reaching out to delicately take your hands in his own, ‘’I will take care of you, everything you need is right here. Anything you want. Just please be mine.’’

Your mouth fell open, unable to speak or think of any witty comment to counter with. His words were sincere, the vulnerability in his expression along with his delicate touch had your heart skip a beat.. Or stop completely-- you weren’t sure. The logic in you told you no, this couldn’t be. He couldn’t love you this quickly, and neither could you. But your heart pumped these new emotions throughout your body, clouding any sense of what should and shouldn’t-- any logic thrown out the window. A part of you that grew with every second spent drowning in his dark eyes, your body decided to make the decision for you with a vague nod.

‘’Say it.’’ Jungkook urged, his eyes sparkling with a layer of tears. Were they happy? Sad? Maybe both. He wanted to hear your sweet voice confirm, his own chest so tight it was hard to breathe. He squeezed your hands in his, ‘’Say you’ll be mine.’’

‘’I… I can’t say that yet.. I’m sorry.’’ You whispered, and you swore you could hear his heart audibly crack. But it was okay, he mused. You didn’t reject him-- but you didn’t accept him in your heart yet. All you needed was time.

‘’Y/N…’’ Jungkook pulled you closer to his chest, brushing your hair away from your face. As he spoke, his warm comforting breath fanned your lips, ‘’It’s okay, you don’t have to say it yet. Just… Stay with me.’’

You nodded, feeling your own eyes sting with the tears building up from his heavy emotions rubbing off on you. He smiled softly, palm carefully placed on your cheek to draw you in, closing the distance between your lips in a sweet kiss.

All he needed was patience.

~ ~ ~

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months spent in his castle. You hadn’t taken a single step outside since that stormy night, and it was as if you’d forgotten what grass felt like underneath your feet. However, the times he allowed you to sit with him on his balcony, the warm sun and chill breeze would bring you enough peace to satiate your need for the freedom you were robbed of.

It was complicated, the way you felt. Spending every single day with the prince, you’d gradually fallen for him, and become close enough for you to even start calling him by his first name. He spoiled you with everything you could ever want; clothes, jewelry, endless amounts of books and pretty things, flowers. He showered you in his affection, a large smile constantly on his face whenever he gave, gave and gave to you. He saw how you slowly opened up to him, and it made him so happy; nobody had ever seen the lonely prince this way before.

But at times when he wasn't home, out attending to his duties, you suddenly felt lonely. You had time to think about everything, and it scared you how much you missed Jungkook. However, what you had started to miss even more was your freedom… The life you had before you met the prince.

It was clear that you weren’t allowed to leave, every window was barred, and every door was locked. It was impossible. No matter, because at this point you were scared to live without him. You couldn’t.

So you opted for the one thing you knew, the one thing you had that was in your control.

You stood by your window, watching the birds chirp and fly by, feeling the warmth of the sun rays beaming at your skin in stripes through the bars. You sang your heart out.

In the beginning, your singing was bright and full of life, proud of how Jungkook admired your voice.

But lately, your tune was laced with melancholy.

~ ~ ~

Jungkook heard your voice as he strode through the hallway, feeling his heart jump at the beautiful sound. Lately, your voice had gotten more and more bewitching. He was obsessed with the sadness in your vocals. He carefully peeked in through the crack of the door as he opened it, and the sight before him was breathtaking. You looked like a goddess with the sun glowing on your skin, eyes closed as you were completely indulged in your song.

He loved you so much, nothing or nobody could ever compare, nor could anybody intervene. You were his, kept safe in this castle for the rest of your life.

After a long moment of admiring you, Jungkook finally opened the door to step inside, quietly strolling over to stand behind you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, letting his hands settle on your stomach as he pressed his chest against your back, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. Your singing ceased, eyes widening in surprise at his sudden appearance. Just as quickly as your body tensed up, it relaxed in his embrace.

“You sing so pretty, my little dove,” he cooed into your ear as he held you tight. His hands splayed against your stomach and rubbed gently, carefully and slowly moving upwards. Your breath caught in your throat and you felt your body tingle with a mixture of fright and excitement, warmth blooming where his hands trailed.

Jungkook turned you in his arms, pressed his chest against yours as his fingers caressed the side of your delicate face, a loving smile on his lips. He moved slowly, with intention, towards the plush bed behind you. His eyes never left yours, peering into them as if he could see your inner most desires. It made your body feel engulfed in flame.

“Please, let me have you,” the prince asked. His voice was sweet, pleading and desperate. He guided you towards the bed and the press of the firm mattress behind your knees made you fall with a soft gasp escaping your lips. “I need you, my love. I need to taste you, please.”

You found it hard to say no, hard to say anything at all despite the warnings sounding in your head. As confused by him and this entire situation as you were, you couldn’t help the magnetic pull you felt when he held you close, or the way your heart throbbed when he was around.

“Y-yes,” you replied, voice timid.

His body hovered over you, lips inches from your own and you felt your body press further and further into the bed as he encroached over you.

“Yes, what, little bird?” He asked. His voice was light—sensitive and loving. His eyes spoke volumes. He looked at you as if he wanted to claim every inch of you, make you his physically and emotionally for the rest of his life.

You swallowed hard as you lied down, head resting on the soft pillows, as your eyes connected with his. Any doubt had slowly left you as the warmth of his body seeped into your clothes and into your very core. It felt like a fire was building, growing larger and more intense, in the center of your thighs.

“Yes, please,” you whispered.

Your answer pleased the prince—he moved down further until his lips connected with yours. His hips pressed into your own and you could feel his hard length against you—making you gasp into his kiss.

It spurred Jungkook on, his tongue taking advantage and sliding into your open mouth to caress and lick at your own tongue. He moaned lightly at the taste of you, so sweet and perfect—just like you. He wanted to taste it for the rest of his life, have the sweet essence of you on his tongue every single night. He was sure if your mouth tasted so sweet, your drenched folds would taste even better.

“Let me see you,” he whispered as he pulled away from your honeyed lips. “Please.”

His voice was so desperate--so full of love and desire for you that the fire within you blazed higher. It was becoming harder and harder to resist the prince at all, and you found yourself wondering why you ever resisted in the first place.

After receiving your consent in the form of a nod, Jungkook pushed the fabric of your dress up from your thighs. His strong hands smoothed over the soft, plush skin and you shivered at the feeling of his warmth that lingered where he touched. He continued pushing the dress up until it exposed your stomach and core to him.

His eyes explored every inch of your body. He was mesmerized by the way your stomach curved and your hips swelled. Your body was finer than any of the paintings in his castle, more valuable than the jewels glittering in his reserves. His breath came out heavier as his vision trailed to the linen of your panties, the very ones he provided for you. Jungkook loved the way you looked in the clothes he picked especially for you--his gorgeous, little songbird.

Your hands clutched at the bunched material of your dress and you desperately sought to take it off, expose yourself fully to the handsome prince above you. Your body squirmed as he continued drinking you in, hurrying to take the rest of the fine dress off your body. Jungkook noticed your discomfort, and moved to help you pull the dress up and over your head. The gesture was sweet, so sweet it felt like an ache in your heart and your core.

Jungkook threw the garment aside, no care for the price or quality of the dress. His only care was you, now nearly naked and pliant underneath him. If he thought the hills and valleys of your thighs were mesmerizing, he was wholly unprepared for the sight of your breasts.

He could feel his mouth drying up as he watched your nipples prickle in the chill of the castle’s air. He was sure he stopped breathing as he watched your chest rise and fall with each deliberate breath you brought in and expelled. He felt his tongue dart out of his mouth to moisten his lips, eyes glued to the pretty pink nubs of your breasts.

“My dove,” he gasped.

Your eyes were wide, pupils blown with a mixture of anxiety and lust, and your hands sought to grab at the cloth of his shirt.

“Please, Jungkook,” you whined softly. Being so exposed, so vulnerable to the man above you made you needier by the second. You were sure you couldn’t stand another minute under his intense gaze without him touching you somewhere, anywhere.

Jungkook’s eyes slipped closed at the sound of his name rolling off your sweet tongue. He felt his body nearly tremble, and he knew he needed to hear it for the rest of his life. There was no way he could let you go now, now that he would have you fully.

“What do you need, my love?” He asked as he smoothed a hand over your delicate stomach and up towards your ribs. “Tell me what you need, and I’ll give you everything you could ever want.”

Your back arched off the bed as his warm hand pursued up your body until it summited the crest of your breast. He marveled at the way his hands fit over the soft globes, and how perfectly they fit in his palms. He knew you were made for him--that you were the only one meant to be with him. Everything about you reminded him that you were made for him.

His fingers pinched at a nipple and he sighed as he heard your soft, gentle squeak at the pinch. His stomach tightened painfully, and his cock strained hard against the linen of his pants. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself between your plush thighs, but he knew he needed to to worship you, to make you feel like the princess you would soon become.

In one swift movement, his head bowed down piously to pull a nipple into his mouth while his fingers maintained pressure on the other. He moaned around the bud in his lips, the way it felt against his tongue and the sweet flavor of your skin. Your keening gasps and sighs encouraged him, making him suck the nub in further and tongue swirl around it.

Your body felt grazed with tiny pinpricks of pleasure, electrifying you down to your veins. You have never felt such pleasure in your life, never knowing the touch of a man. But you’re sure that no man could compare to the way the prince felt above you, pressing his worshipful kisses to your breasts.

Jungkook switched to your other breast, frenzied to taste and consume you--every last inch. He fervidly licked at your prickled nub before he pulled it into his mouth and allowed his tongue to explore and pleasure it.

“J-Jungkook!” You gasped at the feeling. His other hand rubbed and pinched at your abused nipple so well it made your legs tremble.

He popped off your breasts but maintained his grip on you with his hands, a toothy smile brightening his features as he peered at you.

“Yes, my dove?” He asked as innocently as he could. He knew this action was driving you mad. He could tell by the way your hips bucked and swayed that your channel would be slick and burning with desire by now.

“More, please,” you begged. “I need you to take me.”

Jungkook kissed his way down your sternum, lavishing kisses at your navel and skin of your thighs. He wanted no part of you left untouched, unclaimed by him. He meant to have you in every sense of the word. The prince was determined to ensure every single part of you was conquered by him, and him only.

Jungkook was eager to get the remaining fabric off you. His deft fingers swiped at your covered slit, smiling as he felt the wetness pooling there. He hummed deep in his throat as he made himself comfortable between your thighs. Jungkook noticed how comfortable, how natural it felt to be between your thick thighs. He wanted to leave marks all over them, physical reminders of his claim of you.

You stirred gently, awkwardly, at the intense gaze that the prince was holding with your barely covered decency. His stare was intense--it fanned the flames within you, making them lick hotly at every inch of your being.

Jungkook tugged at the thin fabric between your thighs, pulling it down your legs gently, as if he was unwrapping the finest and most delicate china. His breath caught in his throat as he threw them to the side and your centre became exposed to him. You bloomed below him like the most beautiful rose, petals opening and slick with arousal. His tongue sought out of his mouth, anxious for a taste of what he was sure to be the most delicious nectar.

“My beautiful,” he sighed as his hands pressed your legs further apart. You whimpered gently, the feeling of the cold air rolling over your heated body was nearly driving you insane. Jungkook stared at you as if you were his final, mortal meal. Jungkook nearly salivated at the sound and the way your legs trembled with need--...need for him.

His face inched closer and close, desperate to be buried face first in your pretty cunt, but careful not to scare you. Jungkook loved you, passionately and desperately, and he quaked at the thought of terrifying you further. You were his little dove--you needed to be loved slowly, gently.

“I want to taste you, my love,” he murmured as his face settled centimeters from your exposed folds. “Please, will you let me have you?”

Your bottom lip trembled, and your eyes were wide with arousal. The growing ache and need for him was surging through your veins swiftly, swirling in your mind and clouding any thought that wasn’t the handsome prince, and the way his hands and body felt against yours. All you could think, all you could comprehend was him--only him.

Your head nodded quickly in reply. “Yes, please, sir.”

Jungkook stifled a groan at the sound of the honorific leaving you. His spine tingled and he nearly lost all resolve to remain composed. You drove him mad, and it took all he had to not claim you fully and deeply there, now.

With a gentle kiss to each side of your luscious thighs, Jungkook worshiped each inch of your skin as he worked towards the apex. He let the sounds of your pleasured sighs and keening gasps roll over him like fine silk. As he reached your center, he gently bowed his head and pressed a soft kiss to your clit, before allowing his tongue to dart out and taste a droplet of your slick.

He pulled his head back and closed his eyes in bliss as the flavor blossomed on his tongue. You tasted so sweet, and earthy. Like a mulled wine, sweet and honeyed and intoxicating.

“Perfect,” he admired as he lowered his head back down. “I knew you’d taste so sweet, so perfect.”

Jungkook eagerly got to work now, tongue gently caressing the nub of nerves that had your legs quaking at each tender lick. He couldn’t get enough of the way you felt, succumbed to his desire and pliant underneath him. He wished to be buried in your sweet cunt for ever, both mouth and cock. He knew now, irrevocably, he would never be able to live without you.

He drank from you as if you were the last fountain on earth, the only source of his hydration. His tongue worked eagerly, dipping into the pools of your tight heat and licking up the sweet wetness that pooled. He couldn’t fathom how one little angel could taste so sweet, feel so good against his tongue.

Your sweet sighs and moans spurred him on. Your legs trembled gently and with each caress of his tongue on your nub, your sounds only increased in volume and in need. The prince was eager to get you to your high, make you feel euphoria caused by him and him only.

Your legs quivered and you gasped his name, and he couldn’t help but smile. A finger slid into your walls, coaxing your climax with each curl and press of his finger against the tender spot inside you. It made you nearly scream with how delicious it felt, and Jungkook knew you were near the end. He increased his pressure and speed of his tongue, and curled another finger inside of you.

“Cum for me, my love,” he encouraged between licks. “Let me taste you.”

You were no match for him and his words, dripping in unadulterated love and need. His eyes connected with yours and your climax washed over you swiftly. Your back arched and hips squirmed as your walls fluttered and milked his fingers, begging for more--so much more.

Jungkook fervidly licked at the juices that slowly trickled down his fingers from within you, cleaning his hand as he let it slide from within you.

“My little dove,” he sighed. “You taste so sweet when you cum for me.”

Your breaths came out hard, as if your lungs hadn’t worked for hours. You inhaled sharply as you watched him continue to devour the juices on his hands and you felt your spine tingle in response.

Jungkook’s hard length was hard against his trousers and you were desperate now to have the man buried inside you.

“Jungkook, please,” you gasped, hands reaching for the man who now sat above you. “Please, take me.”

The prince’s heart nearly melted to the floor of the castle at your desperate plea. You were his, you knew now that you were his. He made quick work of the cotton trousers and shirt, tearing them off his body until he was just as naked as you. He knew this is how he wanted to be, always. No clothes, no barriers, nothing to stand in between him and you, his perfect little dove.

“I’m here,” he soothed as he pressed his lips to yours. “Let me take care of you, my princess.”

He easily lined himself up with your heat, rubbing the bulbous head against the slick and nearly entering when you swiftly grabbed his arms and stared at him with wide, frightened eyes.

“I-I’ve never done this before,” you whispered, shame coloring your cheeks. “Please… please don’t hurt me.”

Jungkook stopped breathing, the world stopped turning. He couldn’t believe his luck--his dove, his princess... all his. You would become his in every sense of the word. He will have what no man has ever had before, and never get the chance to take. He kissed at your lips gently and nodded.

“I’d rather cut off my own hand than hurt you even once.”

Your eyes softened, soothed by his words and actions, and you nodded gently.

“Take me, Jungkook.” Your words were brave, and ready. Jungkook felt his cock twitch with excitement, and he pressed one final kiss to your lips as he lined himself up and pushed in gently.

Jungkook pulled away from your lips to gasp. Never had he felt such incredible, tight heat. He could tell by the scrunch of your features that you were adjusting to his thick length. Despite your first climax, your body still resisted the press of his cock inside you. It felt like scorching wet heat and the tightness alone nearly made the prince cum as he bottomed out.

He remained still within you as your body relaxed. His hands rubbed gently at your hips and thighs, caressing them sweetly as he whispered his praise to you.

“You took me so well,” he murmured. “My little dove, so good for me. You’re doing so well.”

You whimpered out in need, desire for him to move inside you. The pain melted away to pleasure quickly, and you’re thankful he spent so much time preparing you with his mouth and fingers. The tender care the Prince showered on you made your heart beat rapidly against your chest, working over time like the beat of a bird’s.

“Are you ready, my sweet?” He asked. He could feel his cock ache with the need to set a pace, to feel the way your walls stroke him, but he would not allow himself such pleasure without your word.

“Take me, Jungkook, I’m yours.”

He moaned loudly, allowing the possessiveness of your voice to spur him to begin.

He started his movements slow and with intention. Each drag out and thrust in, he monitored your face for any sign of displeasure. When all that crossed your features was blissful pleasure, he moved faster.

Your body relaxed ten-fold as the man above you began to drill harder into you. The pain of the stretch was nearly gone by now, replaced only by a sizzling bliss that had your mouth gaping open and begging for more. Sweat began to gather at the prince’s brow and you’re taken by how handsome he is, how truly carnal he looks as he pounds into you with no abandon.

Your walls accommodate him perfectly, gripping him tight while still allowing passage. Jungkook felt as if your very cunt was made for him, molded to be his exact match. He could feel himself nearing closer and closer to the edge of bliss--climbing so high to the peaks of climax.

Your body was racked with pleasure. It poured out of your body in sweet sighs and torrential trembles. With each delicious push and pull of his cock within you, the fire grew and grew. It swirled around your body, clawed at your neck and clouded your mind with smoke. All you knew was Jungkook, his thick length, his warm body, and the way his eyes burned holes into yours. Each thrust sent you so much closer to another dizzying peak and your fingers gripped at his arms tighter.

He could tell by the rapture on your face that you were close--could feel it in the fluttering of your walls.

“Cum for me,” he groaned. “Let go, little dove. Let me feel you.”

You whimpered needily, groaning as the prince continued to thrust into you at a turbulent speed. He licked his thumb before allowing it to circle your clit, the bundle of nerves nearly screaming to life as he stimulated it.

Jungkook licked his lips as he watched your body come nearly undone at his touch. He could feel the way his body was building and climbing towards a grand finish, one he wanted to bury deep inside you.

“G-going to cum,” he groaned as he increased his strokes. ‘’I will fill you so well, you feel so good..’’

Never had you felt closer to another person, another man. Jungkook was truly the only one in the world for you, and you could never stray away. His hands gripped you tight and possessively as he powered his way to his finish.

“P-please!” You gasped as your vision started to dot with black spots. You couldn’t speak, breath overtaken by gasps and whimpers of need, as your body finally peaked at it’s high. Your moans were loud as you soared into the blissful pool that only Jungkook had ever taken you to. Your walls contracted around him tightly, squeezing and coaxing his cock to release his own pleasure inside you.

Jungkook lasted mere seconds after feeling youl grip him so tightly, and hearing your sweet dulcet voice sing praises and whines. His cock pulsed as he emptied himself into you, hot cum painting your sweet walls and pooling in your womb.

A long moment followed where Jungkook was just.. staring down at your exhausted form from above. His overgrown fringe clung to his clammy skin, lips swollen from biting down on them more often than not, and chest heaving up and down as he emotionally gathered himself back into one piece after shattering for you.

‘‘My love,’’ He whispered as he leaned down over you once more, sweaty skin sticking together. But no matter, he wouldn’t want you any other way right this moment. He gently moved his lips against yours, all while still keeping himself deep inside of you, making sure nothing would be spilled to waste, ‘‘My beautiful Y/N.’‘

A small smile tugged at your lips when he calls you by your first name. You reach out to brush his fringe away from his forehead, combing his dark, soft locks with your fingers, ‘’My dear Jungkook.’’

Jungkook’s heart almost stopped. You’d said a lot of things, you’d even given him your body. But you had never, ever had referred to him with any term of endearment until now. It was always his name, or his title.

‘‘What did you just say?’’ He asked, one hand cupping your face gently to guide your eyes to meet his own. He looked at you with an emotion you couldn’t quite place, but if you tried to name them, it’d be a mix of confusion, joy, and relief.

‘‘My dear,’‘ You paused to place your hand on top of his, leaning your cheek into his palm further, ‘‘Jungkook.’‘

Jungkook’s hot breath fanned your lips as he sighed in content, eyes still fixed on you. He kissed you once, softly, before pulling back to look at you again.

‘‘Please say it now’’ He asked quietly. The hint of sadness and desperation wasn’t evident in his voice, however, his eyes didn’t lie. They were wide, intensely focused on your every single reaction as he anticipated your answer, ‘’Say you’ll be mine.’’

You were already his in every sense of the word, except one. He needed you to say it yourself.

And who were you to resist the prince?

‘‘I’ll be yours.’‘ You finally broke the silence. Jungkook’s eyes flickered between yours with his doe ones, desperately trying to find any sign of lies. But instead, all he could see was utter affection, and your truthful words finally sank in.

‘’Be my wife.’‘ Jungkook continued, leaning his forehead against yours, ‘‘I love you. I promise to always love you. Nobody else will be able to take care of you the way I can.’‘

You nod, a quiet ‘yes’ leaving your lips before you crane your neck to kiss him. You might’ve been confused, frightened, and even sad at times-- but now? You were happy.

Happy to belong to the prince.

Jungkook smiles against your lips, he couldn’t believe he was so lucky to have found you.

Or rather, you had found him.

Either way, it couldn’t have been anything but fate. And.. Jungkook believed in that.

3K notes · View notes

sfb123 · 3 years

Text

Whatcha Wearin’ Under There?

I am participating in @wackydrabbles prompt # 93 “Was this what made her [him, them,you] happy?” which will appear in bold.

Pairing: Liam x Riley

A/N: I was having a conversation with @kat-tia801 and @queenrileyrose this afternoon, and it got pretty lit, we ended up complaining about the horrible underwear choices for the male LIs in TRR, one thing lead to another, and this idea was born. Now one of you just needs to write the other underwear shopping idea that came up.

Thank you to my fandom soulmate @jessiembruno for helping me design the perfect sexy underwear. It definitely turned out way better than the real life examples I have lying around my house.

Word Count: 1,140

Rating/Warning: PG-13 bordering on R, I’m towing that 🍋 line, but it’s all implied.

All Characters belong to Pixelberry

Tags: Listed below. Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed.

Liam slipped out of the bed, his back to Riley as he put his underwear on. When he turned around, he saw that she had rolled to her side and was watching him dress. “Like what you see?” He said with a smirk.

Riley smiled nervously, this was as good a time as any to bring it up. “Um...not really?”

“I’m sorry?” Liam couldn’t hide the shocked, and slightly hurt expression on his face.

She immediately sat up in the bed, pulling the sheet over her chest. “Oh no no no Liam, not like that! I love the product, it’s just the wrapper I’m not a huge fan of.”

“Come again?”

“Listen, I know it’s called European cut, but just because you’re from Europe doesn’t mean you are bound by law to wear man panties.”

Liam chuckled and sat on the bed, wrapping his arm around her. “Love, I had no idea you had such an aversion to my undergarments.”

“It’s not that.” Riley paused, her mind racing to find the best possible reasoning to get her way, she turned to him as soon as she determined the perfect route to take. “You want kids right? I mean, you need them, heirs to the throne and all.” He nodded curious as to where this was going. “Well, boxers are better for your sperm count. It makes conceiving way easier. It’s science. I’m only looking out for you, and for Cordonia.”

“Is that so?” He cocked an eyebrow. “Well the Rys line has been around for centuries, so perhaps this style isn’t quite as limiting as you have been led to believe.”

Riley grimaced, partly because that reason didn’t work, but the other was the mental image of Constantine in his underwear that Liam had just planted in her head. She shook it off, she couldn’t have that rattling around in her brain if she was going to get plan b to work. She shifted so that she was straddling his lap, letting the sheet she was holding slip away.

“You know how sometimes, when you undress me, I’m wearing those cute little surprises for you?” He audibly gulped and nodded in response as her fingers slowly trailed across his chest. “Well, don’t you want to wear something that will make me just as...excited as I make you?” She tilted her head down slightly and looked up at him through her lashes, biting her bottom lip.

“Yes, my queen.” He pulled her mouth to his in a hungry kiss, thrusting his hips up, both groaning at the sudden jolt of pleasure.

“Mmmm...now my king,” she said in a low sultry voice, as their lips parted, “imagine how much more comfortable that would be if you had more room for everything.” She gestured at his growing bulge.

“Love, I don’t care what I’m wearing, as long as you’re the one taking it off of me.” He flipped them so that he was now hovering over her, causing Riley to yelp. “Let’s go shopping tomorrow, I will get anything you want.” He kissed her again as her hands slid down to his waist to free him from his confines.

The next day, Riley and Liam stepped through the doors of one of the local Cordonian shops. They had sent the guard ahead of time to close down and secure the store, to insure the utmost privacy for their intimate excursion. Riley rushed toward the racks while Liam lingered behind, smiling to himself at his wife’s excitement.

“Come on Liam, these are for you, you should come pick some that you like!” She waived for him to join her.

“That’s alright, all that matters is that you are happy with the selections. I’m sure I will love whatever you choose.”

Riley shook her head, laughing to herself, continuing to pull her selections from the rack. She continued to riffle through the options, running her fingers along the materials, and admiring the selection. Once her arms were full, she hurried over to Liam and handed everything over to him. “Ok, go see what you think!”

“You’re not coming in with me to help?”

“Oh, I have no problem going in there and helping you take things off. It’s the having to put things on that may prove difficult. You’d better fly solo on this one.” She said, placing a light pat on his behind. He laughed and gave her a kiss before moving into the changing room.

Once inside, Liam held up the first pair and examined them carefully, Was this what made her happy? He thought to himself, confused as to why one would need so much material if the intention was to just cover up his private areas. He shrugged before pulling off his clothes, changing into the Versace boxer briefs that Riley had chosen for him. The first thing he noticed was the color, green. He smiled to himself, knowing she settled on that color because it was her favorite. He ran his hands up and down his thighs, feeling the luxurious cotton fabric that covered him. They did feel nice, but it still felt like an odd amount of material for an undergarment.

He peeked his head out from behind the curtain searching for Riley, who was seated on a chaise on the other end of the fitting room, scrolling through her phone. He cleared his throat to get her attention. She looked up and smiled. “Alright, bring on the sexy fashion show.” She rubbed her palms together in anticipation.

Liam stepped out of the changing area and walked forward, stopping just in front of her and placing his hands on his hips. “Riley, love, aren’t these just a pair of shorts?”

She laughed at the comment and approached him to get a better look. “No Liam, they’re underwear, I promise. How do they feel?”

“Quite comfortable, actually. I’m just afraid they will be cumbersome when I am wearing pants over them.”

“You’ll get used to it. I promise.” She reached up and kissed him on the nose. “Are you going to get them?” She asked hopefully.

“Do you like them?” At his question, her eyes roamed up and down his body, licking her lips as she did, and finally nodding her head. “Then I will get them in every color they have, and two of the green.” He winked.

“Great! You should go change so we can check out and head home. Like now.”

Liam could tell by the heat in her voice exactly why she was in such a hurry to get back to the palace. “Why don’t you come with me? I would love to have your assistance.” He took her hand and lifted it to his lips.

“Yup. Totally. Let’s do that.” She nodded her head frantically and pulled him into the dressing room.

Permatags: @anjanettexcordonia @athena-penrose @chemist-ana @cordonia-gothqueen @cordoniaqueensworld @gabesmommie1130 @gkittylove99 @hopelessromanticmonie @iaminlovewithtrr @jessiembruno @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @kingliam2019 @lucy-268 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @mile9213 @mom2000aggie @pixie88 @queenrileyrose @secretaryunpaid @sweatyrysconnoisseur @theroyalheirshadowhunter @twinkleallnight @txemrn

One Shots: @bebepac @darley1101

Liam x Riley: @jared2612

@wackydrabbles @choicesficwriterscreations

121 notes · View notes

writethelifeyouwant · 3 years

Text

Femme Fatale - Ch 2 / 2

Pairing: Alex x Reader Rating: 18+ Tags: Sub!Alex, Domme!Reader, pegging, blow job on a dildo, praise kink, bondage, cock bondage, spreader bar, dirty talk about exhibitionism, degradation Word Count: 3.2k Created for: @spnkinkbingo - Praise Kink | @anyfandomgoesbingo - Blindfolds

A/N: Thank you so much for being my first ever commission Sin! I've had a lot of fun tackling this challenge because I've never written a Domme!reader before but I really appreciate you trusting me with your idea, and I hope I do it justice ❤️

Series Masterlist

Alex has been waiting so patiently. Since he and Y/N had gone to Femme Fatale a few weeks ago, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about everything he saw there. He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about what he saw Jared doing – or more accurately, what he saw being done to Jared.

Seeing Jared submit so publicly to all those people had been mesmerising; Jensen watching on proudly from the sidelines, offering Jared encouragement and praise when Jared finally couldn’t take it any longer and asked permission to cum. Jared had spurted into Jensen’s hand, held just below him while some tiny thing continued to pound into him from behind, her own domme egging her on the whole time, and then Jared had dutifully licked Jensen’s hand clean for him when he was finished. Alex had thought he was going to cream his shorts just from watching but he’d managed to restrain himself until they got home and Y/N had ridden him until they were both shuddering and sated.

He’s been dreaming about it, waking up hard every morning since that night. And not just semi-chubbed up – achingly, maddeningly, rock-solid and leaking. It’s gotten him into trouble, because he hasn’t been able to resist touching himself when he’s that hard up, and he’s not allowed to do that. Y/N had actually brought home a cock cage the night before for him to sleep in, so he didn’t wind up breaking his rules and ruining her plans for him. She can’t very well give him what he’s been dreaming about for weeks if he’s misbehaving.

Y/N had brought home a few other things last night along with the cock cage – she’d clearly enjoyed her shopping trip a little too much. The object of his fantasies is now sitting in front of him in the centre of their bed, black and threatening against the crisp, pale linens of the rest of the bedroom. The strap-on was a good size. Alex had been nervous that Y/N would be too cautious, too gentle with him, and get something shamefully small, but she hadn’t. Caution has never been her style anyways. He’s already getting ahead of himself imagining what it will be like to take something even bigger.

Alex is wearing the other new addition to their collection, a silicone plug that has been holding him open for the past hour or so while he kneels, waiting, at the foot of the bed. He had settled easily into the familiar position, his ankles and knees spread wide and in line while he sat back lightly on the spreader bar holding his legs apart. Being held open like this, he has to concentrate on staying tight so the plug doesn’t slip out. He knows if it does, he’ll be punished.

Y/N is in the shower, part of her ritual when they plan longer play sessions like this. She leaves Alex to sit and settle into his headspace while she uses the steam and the quiet to find her own. At the sound of the hairdryer, Alex feels his cock try to harden inside its restraint. That sound means Y/N is almost ready for him, and it’s a conditioned response by now, the excited heat he feels creeping under his skin. The sound of the door opening and closing comes a moment later, and Alex’s cock gives another smothered leap. She’s in the room with him now.

The scrape of blunt nails across the short hairs at the nape of his neck makes Alex shake, and the cuffs on his wrists and ankles rattle. He tries to crane his head back to see her but she pulls away, and he knows that means he’s not supposed to look yet.

“Have you been good for me, baby boy?” Y/N’s voice rings sweetly above him, sinking into his veins like a shot of something cool and calm. She’s using Jensen’s nickname for Jared again, the name he’s come to associate with this act. With dildos and harnesses and boys on their knees showing off how good they can be when they’re told what to do – when they’re owned like he and Jared are.

“Yes, Mistress,” Alex answers steadfastly. He has been good, he knows he has. He has been perfect for her.

“Yes, I can see you have been,” and he can hear the smile in Y/N’s voice, even though she still won’t move to where he can see her. He gasps suddenly but manages to choke it off before he gets too loud. Y/N had bent down to tap against his plug, nudging it maddeningly close to his prostate. “Good boy,” Y/N drops a small kiss to his shoulder in recognition of his efforts to keep quiet.

Alex savours the compliment, smiling proudly until a wisp of black trails up his back and over his eyes – his blindfold. He instantly deflates as Y/N secures the tie at the back of his head. He wants to see her. Well really, he wants to see her with a cock jutting out from her hips. He desperately hopes this doesn’t mean he won’t get to do that. A sharp tug on his cock sends Alex’s back rigid again as he tries to hold in the cry of shock at the sudden pain, however short lived.

“If you’re going to mope, we can stop right now,” Y/N speaks gently against his ear. She’s not mean about it, not cruel or teasing, she’s simply informing him.

“No, sorry, I’m sorry,” Alex sits as straight as he can manage, shoulders back, thighs and spine tensed.

“It’s okay, baby boy,” Y/N slips the back of her hand across his cheek and down his chest before pulling away. The creak of the bed springs tell Alex that she’s climbed on, hopefully, he prays as fervently as he can, to retrieve the strap-on she’d left him to contemplate this whole time. There’s moving and rustling and breathing but it’s all muddling together in his ears. He can’t make out where anything is, what anything is. He can only wait.

Something firm brushes against his lips. Y/N is in front of him now, and, he hopes, wearing the harness. The dildo is what’s pressing at his lips, and it is pressing now, not just brushing against them. Y/N wants him to let her in. He does, with relish.

“Good boy,” Y/N intones above him, her hands reaching for his head and combing through his hair. She doesn’t try directing him at first, just lets him explore the toy on his own. The silicone feels odd against his lips, it dries too quickly every time he pulls back so his mouth catches against its veins on each push back in. He isn’t sure how much of it he’s managing to fit into his mouth but he finds his limit fairly quickly, accidentally gagging himself and having to pull off.

“Sorry,” he pants, wishing he could wipe the spit that’s dripping down his chin, but his arms are still tied to the bar behind him. He must look so pathetic right now. His cock gives another twinge in its cage.

“It’s okay baby boy, try again, you can do it.” Y/N reassures him gently and pulls his mouth back to the toy. This time, when he reaches his limit and starts to pull away, Y/N stops him. She grips his hair tightly and holds the back of his head still on her cock. Alex gags again but stays still, and after a moment the intrusion doesn’t feel as bothersome. “Good boy,” Y/N murmurs above him, and Alex’s chest swells with warmth. “Just take a little more for me, baby boy. There we go,” Y/N eases him down just a fraction, and Alex starts to suck to distract his throat from wanting to push the toy out the other way.

“Fuck, you look so good like this baby,” Y/N sighs above him, petting his hair in appreciation. “Can just imagine how jealous all those guys at the club would be, seeing you suck me down so good. They’d all want a turn. It’s a shame to have you waste such a pretty mouth on a cock that can’t even feel it.” Alex moans around the toy and Y/N lets him pull back to suckle at the head. “You tryin’ to make me cum, baby boy?” Y/N laughs as Alex nods. “Such a fucking cumslut, aren’t you? Perfect fucking toy for that club.”

Alex’s mouth is suddenly empty and the air around him grows still and cold. He wants to call out, ask where she’s gone, but he doesn’t dare. Y/N keeps him waiting, testing him to see if he can behave, if he can keep quiet.

He passes.

The restraints holding his wrists to the bar click as Y/N undoes the buckles. She carefully rubs each wrist and moves the arm gently back and forth so she doesn’t shock his joints, before placing each hand palm down on the bed in front of him.

“Stand up, and keep bent over.” Alex pushes up from his knees onto his toes gracefully, in a move reminiscent of a yoga transition, and sinks his head and shoulders to the mattress, back arching and feet still widespread, leaving his ass open and on display. Arousal courses through him from the depth of the submission in this position. “So pretty,” Y/N coos. “I’ll have to bring a camera next time.” Next time. Alex’s blood sings at the promise, and he hasn’t even been fucked yet.

A fingernail trails lightly over the head of his cock through its cage, and he groans, unable to hold it in. That earns him a smack right over the plug sticking out of his exposed hole. He can’t stop the moan that follows that either, and Y/N repeats the motion harder, and harder again.

“C’mon baby, if you’re gonna moan like a little bitch then at least try to sound sexy while you do it,” she sneers behind him. Alex feels his body flame red under the insult. “You just sound like a slut. There’s plenty of those to go around, nothing making you special.” Alex cries out at the next hit and feels a spurt of precome force its way out of his cock. “That’s more like it,” Y/N praises, and he sighs in relief that he got it right.

The next sound Alex hears is the snick of a plastic cap – lube – he clenches just thinking about it. Then the plug in him is being twisted, swirled and thrust in and out of him teasingly. He moans again, now that he has permission, and Y/N pumps the plug in even harder as a reward. His ass doesn’t want to let it go when she pulls it away, oh so slowly, but it’s almost immediately replaced with her finger. It’s much thinner than the plug, and Alex feels his hole fluttering around it wantonly, silently begging for more, which she readily gives.

A second finger follows quickly and easily. The third is tougher, this time it’s a stretch, but the tight pain sends another shot of warmth through his cock and leaks out of the tip onto the bed. Y/N notices.

“You like that, baby boy?” she asks, sugar sweet. Alex nods and whines, and her fingers leave him instantly.

“Yes, Mistress!” he corrects, arching his back to try to find her fingers. She obliges him and pushes them in again.

“You think you’re ready?”

“Yes, Mistress,” he answers properly, fucking himself back into her hand.

“Okay,” she withdraws her fingers and gives his butt a soothing pat. “On the bed, on your back for me, yeah?”

“Yes, Mistress.” Alex turns to sit on the bed and hoists himself back until he can feel their pillows and headboard behind him. He lays down, bending his knees and pulling them back to his chest. The bed dips below him as Y/N climbs on too, crawling between Alex’s legs. Another click, more lube drips down his ass, the cool liquid pooling on the covers as it runs off his ass. He feels the dildo press against his hole and he holds his breath.

The first nudge inside of him is strange. It’s thicker and rounder than anything he’s had back there before. The second little push is uncomfortable, and Alex scrunches his eyes shut, even though, with the blindfold on, it doesn’t make much difference. Y/N’s hands smooth up the backs of his thighs, rubbing gently, soothing the tension that had rocketed through them a moment before. After a few seconds of sympathetic touching Alex manages to relax, and he feels the dildo slip a little further inside of him.

Y/N keeps up soft cooing noises under her breath, making sure Alex knows how good he’s being, what a perfect baby boy he’s being for her. The praise makes him glow, and helps him forget the pain that’s still pulsing dully between his legs.

“I think you deserve a little reward, for being so good,” Y/N whispers when she’s finally pushed the toy all the way in, her hips flush with his.

“Can I see you?” Alex asks desperately. “Wanna look at you Mistress, please.”

“That’s what you want?” Y/N laughs, a little creully. “I was going to take this off,” her fingers skim over his balls and the cock cage keeping him soft and Alex jumps under the touch, “but if you want the blindfold off instead…” Y/N trails off, leaving the choice up to him. Alex falters, caught out by his own eagerness. If Y/N doesn’t take the cage off him now, she might not take it off at all. But on the other hand, the thought of not being able to see her the rest of the night… not being able to watch her fucking him, to see the cock pushing in and out of his body, the same sight he’d been so transfixed by when he was watching it happen to Jared… he needs to see it.

“The blindfold,” Alex whimpers as Y/N continues to tease his cock through the metal rings clamped around it. “Take off the blindfold, please, Mistress.”

“As you wish.”

Alex blinks up at Y/N’s smiling face as his eyes adjust to the light in the room. She looks fucking sexy. She’s in the same lingerine that she’d worn to Femme Fatale that night, the set he’d picked out for her to wear, and the addition of the leather harness at her hips is unfairly attractive. Alex glances down to their hips, takes in the sight of his cock lying limp against his stomach in its little metal prison, and skims further down to catch a glimpse of shiny black poking out from between their bodies. He swallows hard. This was absolutely the right decision.

“Like what you see baby boy?” Y/N taunts, swivelling her hips just a little to pull a groan from him as the dildo rubs against his prostate.

“Fuck yes,” Alex whines, the sound catching high in his throat and pouring out of him raggedly.

“Gonna let me fuck you now?” she asks sweetly, swinging her hips again.

“Fucking please, Mistre– fuck!” Alex shouts as Y/N pulls out and pistons her hips back in harshly. The pain is still there but the sharp strike of the toy inside him sends something like lightning up his spine that drowns out any other feeling his body is trying to conjure.

“Such a dirty mouth,” Y/N pants, beginning to sound out of breath as she fucks his ass relentlessly. “Love that about you, baby. Let me hear you.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” That’s the only word Alex can remember right now. He’s been waiting for this, dreaming about this, for so long and now it’s finally happening he can’t hold himself back. His cock aches and his head goes fuzzy as all the blood in his body tries to drain to his groin to get him hard but the cage keeps him soft and passive. It doesn’t stop him from leaking precum all over his stomach though. It’s dripping down his side, pooling in his belly button, leaving him slick and sticky and fucking humiliated the more he looks at it. Y/N catches where he’s looking and smirks, running her fingers through the offending liquid and bringing it to his lips.

“Look at this fucking mess, such a needy little slut aren’t you?” Alex whimpers and nods, head jerking back as Y/N pushes his hips up so she can get even deeper. “Like my cock in your ass baby boy?” Alex nods again, lost for words and breath. “Can’t wait to see how much more this slutty little hole can take. Maybe it can take two? What do you think about that, me and someone else fucking you open so you’re all loose and used up?”

Y/N’s monologue has Alex gasping for air. He’s always found her voice sexy, and when she paints these pictures for him, how can he not fall straight in and give himself up to the pleasure she’s promising?

“Wanna get you a cock that’s so big I can see it inside you.” Y/N runs her hand over his stomach, through the sticky mess he’s leaking over his happy trail. “Wanna see it right here, punching up inside you, filling you up so good.” Alex groans, pushing up into her hand and pushing his hips back onto her cock. “That’s it baby, fuck yourself for me, good boy.”

Alex is starting to get dizzy. The physical exertion and the immense pleasure and the tinge of pain and lack of hard on to channel everything into has him thrown off, and achingly desperate – obviously just how Y/N wants him. Then, without warning, the pressure on his cock disappears and it fills so rapidly it’s painful and without the chance to even think about asking for permission he’s cumming in long pulses, shooting up his chest and onto his lips and his chin. He thinks he screamed but he can’t be sure and then everything goes orange and red and splotchy, and then white.

Alex blinks awake in the semi-dark, the blue glow of Y/N’s laptop illuminating her baggy t-shirt and messy hair as she sits up in bed reading. It takes him a moment to orient himself, to remember how to move his fingers and toes but he finally manages to drag himself closer to Y/N.

“Hey there, sleepy head,” she grins down at him, and reaches out to stroke his hair off his forehead. “How are you feeling?”

“Completely dead,” Alex breathes. “In a good way,” he adds when he catches the tinge of worry flit across Y/N’s face. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, baby boy,” Y/N leans down and brushes his lips in a soft kiss. “So, you want to do that again?”

“Absolutely,” Alex sighs, snuggling into Y/N’s side and wrapping his arms around her like a teddy bear.

“Good,” Y/N pushes away her laptop and settles into the cuddle, curling up in Alex’s arms like a happy little spoon. “Because I’ve got some ideas.”

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#spnkinkbingo #alex x reader #alex calvert #alex calvert x reader #sub!alex #domme!reader #dom!reader #smut #spn rpf #reader insert

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melzula · 4 years

Text

Obstacles

~ part of the fire lilies series ~

requests: Could you write a Fire Lilies blurb where Zuko struggles with how to approach being around Princess Reader when she avoids him and/or gives him the silent treatment? // Hi- I was wondering if you could write a fire lillies blurb where, when the gaang first starts interacts with zuko, they are more protective of the reader. Simply because they know the history between the two.

a/n: the format of this is a little different than how I normally write but I think it works :)

Though Zuko had finally become a part of Team Avatar, he still found himself to be the odd one out of the group. From Katara’s cold glare to Sokka’s reluctance of being left alone with the prince, Zuko struggled to find his place amongst the group. It was odd and new and strange, but at least it was a start in the right direction, and his first step included mending things with the Princess. He had gotten her to fall in love with him once, so it couldn’t be that hard to do it again, right?

In truth, it was very hard. Zuko faced many obstacles and many set backs, and it would probably be some time before she even so much as looked at him, let alone forgave him...

~~~

Katara

Zuko watched from afar as the Princess handled her chores for the day, sitting peacefully by the fountain as she washed the clothes. Her movements were delicate but precise, the water flowing smoothly through the dirt and the grime collected on Toph’s green robes, and a faint smile graced her features as she hummed softly through the work. She was at peace and completely relaxed, more relaxed than Zuko had ever seen y/n in years. Even in Ba Sing Se there had always been a nervous edge to her, an edge she did her best to hide from Zuko, and she had almost been completely rid of it until the caves. He cringed at the thought, guilt overcoming him at the fact that she seemed so much better off without him.

“What are you doing?” Katara scowls accusingly, startling the Prince from his silent watch over y/n.

“I-“

“Y/N’s been really happy ever since she left you, and you’re crazy if you think I’m going to let you ruin that for her,” the water bender scolds harshly.

“I just want to apologize to her,” Zuko replies calmly, but Katara isn’t having it.

“A simple apology is never going to fix all the ways you’ve hurt her. Y/n deserves better, and if I ever see you make her upset or uncomfortable I won’t hesitate to step in.”

Zuko says nothing as Katara stalks away, he knows better than to get in her way when she’s angry, and when her retreating form finally disappears he looks back at the fountain.

The clothes have been washed, and the Princess is gone.

~~~

Sokka

The smell of stew was heavenly to Zuko’s rumbling tummy, and he was eager to join everyone by the fireside. Bowls had been served, seats had been chosen, and an empty spot beside the Princess was his for the taking.

“Excuse me, buddy,” Sokka chirps, patting Zuko heartily on the back before quickly sitting himself beside y/n. She smiles softly at the water tribe boy and offers him her leftovers to which he happily accepts.

Zuko deflates, choosing to sit next to Aang and enjoy his stew of failure. This isn’t the first time this has happened, and it probably won’t be the last. He knew Sokka was just protecting her, and he couldn’t be mad at him for that. Sokka had probably done more for y/n in her time with him than Zuko had ever done, who was he to blame his protectiveness?

Y/n offers to take the empty dishes to wash, and as Zuko attempts to follow after her his path is quickly blocked by Sokka.

“Listen, I know you’re trying to make things right, and while I respect that, y/n’s asked me to keep you away from her,” he explains as gently as he can. “It’s nothing personal, but I care about her and I want to make sure she feels comfortable.”

“Oh... I understand,” Zuko utters quietly. “Will you at least tell her that I love her?”

“...I’ll do my best,” Sokka replies solemnly, watching with a pang of guilt as Zuko retreats to his room for the night.

~~~

Aang

“What am I supposed to do?” Zuko groans whilst tugging at his hair.

“You know I’m a firm believer in peace, and I do think that neither of you will be happy until your issues are resolved,” Aang comments wisely. “But I also think you should never force anything. Y/n will come around in her own time when she’s ready.”

“But that could take forever!” He protests. “I’ve already been away from her long enough, and being near her but not being able to speak to her is torture.”

Both boys turn their gazes towards y/n in the distance where she carefully brush Appa’s hair and talk to him about his day. The sight is very Princess like, which is fitting since she is a Princess after all, but the sweetness of it all makes Zuko’s heart ache with longing.

“What you did wasn’t right,” Aang sighs. “And she’s still healing. But, if she truly couldn’t stand you then she wouldn’t have given her blessing to let you stay.”

“She only let me stay so I could train you,” Zuko argues.

“Okay, that’s true. But she also washes your clothes, serves you dinner, and just the other day I saw her mending a hole in your boot. She won’t talk to you, but she does still care.”

“She’s always had such a big heart,” he murmurs dejectedly. “Back when I was still hunting you y/n always went out of her way to take care of me even if I didn’t want it. I was a fool to take her for granted.”

“I really do think you guys will work it out. Just don’t force anything, and you’ll be fine,” Aang comforts, and the two continue to watch the Princess as she tends to Appa.

~~~

Toph

With a bouquet of wild flowers in hand and his hair combed in that same horrid style his Uncle had given him back in Ba Sing Se, Zuko headed to her room in hopes of finally talking to the Princess. He knew how much y/n loved flowers, and he also knew how much she loved that ridiculously dorky hairstyle, so he hoped that the two combined together would at least earn him a smile in return.

But when he arrived to her part of the temple he found that her door was barricaded with a smooth slab of rock, and sitting a few feet away from said rock was Toph. The little girl sat leaning against the wall, legs crossed over each other and hands folded behind her head.

“Sorry, sparky, boss’s orders,” she explains with a small shrug, and Zuko deflates. “Personally I think she just needs to man up and face you, but until then I’ve been put under strict orders not to let you in.”

“She really hates me, doesn’t she?” Zuko sighs, joining Toph against the wall. The flowers in his hand are beginning to droop from the lack of water, much like his demeanor from his lack of y/n.

“No, but she’s very angry,” Toph corrects. “Really sad, too. Sokka’s already been in there three times tonight.”

“Are they...?”

“Together? He wishes,” the girl scoffs. “His heartbeat picks up a beat or two sometimes when he’s with her, but he’d never make a move on her. Not when she’s so upset and he’s the only one she can talk to.”

“Yeah, well maybe they should be together,” Zuko grumbles, the flower stems charring in his hands from the sudden heat that emits from his palms. “They’re both water tribe and he obviously takes care of her better than I ever could.”

“That’s true,” Toph nods much to Zuko’s dismay. “But she doesn’t love Sokka. She loves you.”

“Loved,” Zuko corrects only for Toph to roll her eyes.

“You dunderhead,” she mutters before punching him in the shoulder. “I should just knock your heads together and make you kiss and make up right now.”

“Can you do that?” Zuko asks hopefully only to receive another punch from Toph.

“You sure do have a lot to learn, sparky.”

~~~

The Princess

The morning is quiet and calm as you rise with the sun, heading out to collect the dew on the plants of the temple so that you may use it as water for your group. Other than Momo, who sits comfortably on your shoulders, everyone is asleep, giving you some time to decompress and enjoy the solitude of the rising sun.

“Anything I can help with?”

Or so you thought. Of course Zuko would approach you now when there was no one to keep him away from you. You say nothing in response, refusing to even look at him as you set down your bucket and begin to remove the dew from the leaves.

“Y/n, please talk to me,” he begs. “Let me make it better.”

Zuko is met with silence and an eye roll. Momo chitters curiously at the Princess, receiving a head scratch in return which is more than Zuko can say.

“I never stopped thinking of you,” he says. “And I wish I could take back everything I’ve done to hurt you.”

“I don’t want your apologies,” you utter quietly. “I want you to go away.”

Hearing your voice after being met with silence for so long brings the boy to tears, and with a hesitant demeanor Zuko reaches out for you. However, at the sight of the water glowing your palms the Prince takes a step back. You’re not afraid to turn your bending on him, not anymore, and it isn’t until now that he realizes he really has hurt you, more than he could ever have imagined.

“Y/n...”

“Go. Don’t make me ask again.”

With a defeated sigh Zuko turns away and leaves the Princess to her own devices. She goes back to tending to the dew, and the Prince goes back to his room to wallow in his shame.

Both have tears streaming down their faces.

| tags: @rainteslerrrr @oddment-niwit-blubber-tweak @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @coldlilheart @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @titaniafire @dekahg @emberislandplayers @kikaninchen-2 @eridanuswave @lozzybowe @izzieserra @melacholy @music-geek19 @thia-aep @thyunnamed @haylaansmi @nataliahaslosthershit @idkdude776 @aangsupremacy @thirstyforsometea @ihaveaproblem98 @brown-eyed-thang |

#zuko #zuko x reader #zuko imagine #prince zuko #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko imagine #zuko and the princess #avatar the last airbender #atla #atla x reader #sokka #toph #katara #aang #team avatar #gaang x reader #fire lilies

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absolutebl · 3 years

Text

This Week In BL

Feb 2021 Part 1

Being a highly subjective assessment of one tiny corner of the interwebs.

Ongoing Series Thai

Manner of Death Ep 11 - a nice beefcake twist, then another twist, plus proud gay dads. We are mighty pleased.

Cupid Coach Ep 4 - Unbearably boring. I’m out. We are not amused.

My Bromance Ep 9 - FINALE I watched it unsubbed (I’ve NOT been following since ep 3) and it looks like it has a nice cute happy ending. I’m now interested in binging it once good subs become available.

1000 Stars Ep 2 - was a lot better than Ep 1, the mains have okay chemistry, the kids are serviceable (child actors, shudder), but I’m really loving all the side characters. We are cautiously optimistic.

Ongoing Series Not Thai

You Are Ma Boy Ep 5 (Vietnam) - pacing still good, cuties are still giving it their all, solid little series with bumpy side couples, confession call & response continues apace.

To My Star Ep 7-9 FINALE (Korea) - quirky as all goddamn getup, but so fucking cinnamon roll tasty. Charming end. Recommended so long as you realize we are in Mr Heart style K-BL. (Also @coldties posted a killer MV for this one.) This one will get a movie rerelease like Wish You, hopefully also on Netflix.

We Best Love: No. 1 For You Ep 6 FINALE (Taiwan) - we got to see boyfriends being domestic af adorable with an ending that was a touch bittersweet but very college appropriate. With season 2 coming March 5 I am disposed to be VERY PLEASED.

What will we do with ourselves and nothing new out of Korea or Taiwan for two WHOLE weeks?

Stand Alone

I rewatched Wish You (2020 Korean series WISH YOU: Your Melody From My Heart now retitled - thank fuck - and available as a movie on Netflix). I have to say Yoon Sang Yi delivers some excellent pining. I’m not a huge insta-love person and there’s some character dev flaws, but it holds up really well and delivers more as a movie then it did as a series.

One of my favorite catches on the rewatch was the way Yoon Sang Yi’s jacket sleeves are always too long. It’s such a perfect little character trait. He is so shy and careful that he shrugs smaller into his coat, and also he hides his hands - when, as a pianist, his hands represent his self actualization and art. He only exposes them when making music... or holding Kang In Soo‘s hand.

Incidentally, I was moved to look these two up... both out of K-pop. (This is my shocked face.)

Breaking News

Lovey Writer dropped its official trailer at last, looking good and trope-filed. It’s set to start Feb 24th.

Top Secret Together dropped its first promo material (Thai, no eng subs). I’m excited about this one, it’s being lead out by an IRL couple.

My Engineer 2

The ME boys dropped an adorable gossip heavy promo vid. ME 2 is finishing up the script and will probably begin filming in April. It’s supposed to still release in 2021 (which makes me worry about post and explains a lot about some of Thai BL’s audio quality issues). With April filming, my guess is for an October (but more likely November) release.

Close Friend

Lay talked about his Close Friend project, which is a MV series from BOX Music featuring musically-inclined actors with established BL pairings so:

KimCop (MarkKit from Gen Y)

JimmyTommy (SaifahZon from Why R U)

JaFirst (LeoFiat from TharnType 2)

YoonLay (NottPun from YYY)

Y-Destiny

Perth talked about Y-Destiny (previous title Destiny) which presumably is already filmed because he said it will be on air at the beginning of this year. As this is a Cheewin project, expect it to be something odd, campy, and frenetic in the YYY style. My guess is they’ll wait until You Only Eat Alone has completed its run before airing Y-Destiny, because who can take more than one Cheewin at a time? No one. Not even Thailand.

KinnPorsche

Perth also talked about KinnPorsche. He said it would be on air... but that he wasn’t allowed to say the date, so we can hope this means they finally got distribution. (The excitement over the trailer probably helped - it has over a million views.) He also said they would start filming soon (so Feb/March) which means, if everything goes smoothly, a late summer release at the earliest. However, with an independent studio, high production values, big cast, and fight sequences I would expect KP to have more post than most BLs, so my guess is it will air towards the end of the year. (And I would be scared for quality if they tried for any earlier.)

KinnPorsche cast also continues to work the BL talk show circuit, they made an appearance on Sosat Seoul Say. Mile & Apo are adorable + good chemistry, in fact the whole cast is adorable with good chemistry, so I’m excited for this series.

Gossip

Cutest beans, Sam & Yu of We Best Love, have been dropping the most charming little lives ever. I’m so pleased we are getting a second season out of them. I can’t remember the title because, ya know, Taiwanese titles are beyond bonkers. But season 2 is listed now.

Hong Kong is reported to be filming its first BL Series (15 eps to air on VIUTV). It will be an adaptation of 2018 Japanese BL drama Ossan’s Love (maybe same title?). Like Cherry Magic this is an office romcom: 30s single man who isn't popular with women lives with his parents. When they kick him out, he moves in with a coworker. Turns out this guy has a crush on him, as does another dude from his office. Foundational tropes: Office romance meets forced proximity meets love triangle. I expect the style out of Hong Kong to be somewhat similar to Taiwan, however they are politically less independent of China Main (although culturally VERY different) so this series could be DOA (for gay) or get killed early in its run (see Addicted web series - or don’t see it, if you’re in China). Also, like the Japanese original (and unlike most Taiwanese stuff), expect VERY low heat. That said, 15 eps is nothing to sneeze at, even if they are only 15-20 min each. So I guess I am... intrigued?

Next Week Looks Like This:

February Update: Others that are airing but I’m not following:

Fools (Vietnamese) - I don’t think it’s going to end happily (it’s from the Stage of Love peeps), so I’m waiting to binge if it does

Brothers (Thai) - deals with taboo relationships from the Thank God it’s Friday people (this will not end well)

Happenstance (Pinoy) - I don’t follow Pinoy BL closely

One Day Pag-ibig (Pinoy) - ibid

Love or Lie (Pinoy) - ibid

The Alter (Pinoy) - ibid

Upcoming 2021 BL master post here.

Links to watch are provided when possible, ask in a comment if I missed something.

#thai bl #thaibl #bl 2021 #bl gossip #upcoming bl #my engineer 2 #kinnporsche #y-destiny #close friend project #ossan’s love #hong kong bl #chinese bl #taiwanese bl #Vietnamese BL #Vietnamese drama #pinoy bl #pinoy drama #lovely writer #We Best Love: No.1 For You

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98shawns · 4 years

Text

trusting you; trusting me. (t.c.)

dating in the workplace may be tough, but your new hopeless romantic of an assistant makes it worthwhile.

(coworker au, boss x assistant au)

chapters: one, two

words: 2500

warnings: mentions of nsfw (none in this chapter unfortunately, but def in the next !!)

a/n: long time no post !! i wrote this such a long time ago and it’s collecting dust so i might as well post without worrying too much about how it will do, right? lol, hopefully i can get to writing more !!

Keeping a poker face is easy until the new employee transferring into your department was the guy you’d just spent the night with.

You keep your expression contained as you make a beeline towards your office. This wasn’t the plan. The plan was for you to let off some steam with some good looking guy at the bar and then leave without a trace the morning after. He was nice. Style, charisma, and a boyish charm all wrapped in one handsome package. Just your type.

And you believe that you’d caught his fancy as well. He slipped his number written down on a napkin that sat wedged into your car’s sun blocker. (You’ve been pondering on whether or not you should shoot him a message all morning).

But as much as you enjoyed his company, he wasn’t supposed to be following you around.

‘I’m going crazy,’ You’re quick to frantically grab the file placed on your desk earlier this morning. Surely enough, Timothée Chalamet would be starting as your new assistant.

/////

“Fancy seeing you here,” is how Timothée greets you when you let him into your office. You bite your cheek as you frown at his words.

“Stop addressing me so casually. I’m your superior.” You lean back in your chair and offer Timothée a seat in front of your desk. His lips press into a straight line as he responds with a curt nod before eventually sitting down in front of you.

The atmosphere was heavy but you find yourself feeling somewhat relieved upon seeing the uneasiness in Timothée’s expression. It seemed like he wasn’t expecting an early reunion either.

“Let me get straight to the point,” you start, leaning forward and clasping your hands together as you rest your elbows on your desk. You see Timothée’s body visibly tense up.

“We’ll be spending a lot of time together from here on out. In regards to what happened last night, we can’t let it affect our practice here. While we’re in this building, we’re coworkers first. Got it?” Timothée nods in a silent agreement, and you try your best to not drown in how uncomfortable you had to make the situation for the both of you. It was protocol for situations like these, but you hated the thought of being professional to the man who sweet-talked you for the duration of all of last night.

“That’s all. I know it’s a lot for your first day, but try your best. Most of our coworkers are all great people so hopefully they can help you adjust. If you need anything, just ask.” You end the conversation with a send-off you once read in a self-help book about excelling in management. It was just a standard between a manager and a worker; hopefully a standard the both of you will be able to upkeep.

You eventually stand up and extend your hand to give your new assistant a handshake. He stands with you and clasps your hand firmly.

‘He has a good handshake…’ You think about how odd it was that you held this very hand last night. It was cold and fragile yet still big and protective when he held you. He had long fingers and surprisingly soft skin; his hands were noticeably beautiful. You told him so as you dozed off in the wee hours of the morning.

Your touch lingers a few seconds longer than it should before you let go.

“Thank you.” Timothée breathes a sigh of relief as he bids you farewell and you let yourself fall back into your chair after he closed the door behind him.

/////

You were always the last to leave, especially on a weekend. Even a few years ago when you were stationed at the cubicle in the back of the office, one row of fluorescent lights would stay illuminating your space.

You were a hard worker with big plans. Everyone in your relatively new branch was around your age so you were well liked, admired, respected, or at least acknowledged by your coworkers by the time you eventually got promoted to a managerial position. The youngest manager in the company. You deserved it, and you would make sure that you’d aim higher. Nothing would come between you and your performance.

Well, maybe nothing but the new assistant you accidentally slept with a week ago.

“Can I talk to you?” You jump at the sound of Timothée’s voice. He looked up at you as he sat on the couch outside your office with his suit jacket slung over his shoulder and his briefcase resting beside him. Your hands grasp the door frame as you check the clock on your office wall. He’d been waiting for the last two hours for you to come out.

“Of course! You could have just knocked at 5:00–“

“It... isn’t about work.”

By the time you turned back to him he’d stood up. He fidgeted with his hands, putting them halfway into his pockets before eventually folding them in front of his body. You think of all the possibilities that would play out if you said yes and you consider telling him to wait until Monday when you’d see each other at work again. In a professional setting. You knew along the lines of what he was about to ask, and now wasn’t the time to get caught up in your emotions. Not when you’d only been promoted two years ago.

But for some reason, something pulls at your heartstrings as you observe Timothée’s demeanour. He seemed so… innocent as he tried his best to be patient while he waited for a response.

You sigh and step outside your office, closing the door behind you. You stood still for a moment before caving.

“Have you eaten yet?”

When his face lights up, you realize that your new assistant may have you wrapped around his little finger.

/////

You don’t know why you chose to come to Denny’s to have this conversation with Timothée, but it somehow felt right. Eating mediocre breakfast foods drowned in maple syrup helped to mask the fact that the two of you being together like this was, well, wrong.

“Are you adjusting well?” You break the silence. Well, silence other than the sounds of forks and knives clanking against each other. Timothée swallows a ball of nervousness down with his chocolate chip pancakes and nods.

“You’re right, everyone at our branch is really nice.” He smiles politely and it makes you feel uncomfortable. He seemed so free spirited when you first met him, but that was when you were just a person at a bar. Not his boss.

“That’s good.” You smile back. It’s not like you weren’t guilty either; he wasn’t just a charming boy approaching you with a cheesy one liner anymore. He was your employee.The two of you sit in each other’s silence for a moment longer.

“Thanks again,” He starts. Your eyes avert to his.

“For what?”

“You’re not treating me any differently even though it must have been hard to stay professional for a whole week. You even let me keep my job.”

“You thought I was going to fire you?” You ask, somewhat in disbelief. The more you think about it, firing him would make sense if you were heartless. He nods casually. “I was 100% positive when you called me into your office Monday morning.”

You try not to express your concern towards Timothée’s confession. It wasn’t your fault you accidentally slept with your new assistant but it obviously wasn’t his either. As long as you stayed professional during work hours, what was the problem? It’s not like he wouldn’t be able to redirect your calls or organize your schedule. The last thing you’d want was for him to feel uncomfortable towards you; he was your employee after all.

Yeah… your employee.

You wonder if that’s why you take the extra liberty of comforting him, and before you know it words of consolation becomes friendly conversation. It’s alright if you spend the next two or three hours chatting about nothing and everything at the same time … you weren’t at work, after all. There was no need to be so stiff around each other.

“We should get going,” You check the time: 11:30 p.m. You should have wrapped this up hours ago. You don’t notice Timothée’s smidgen of a smile as he watches you gather your belongings. He eventually stands up to grab your trench coat off the coat hanger beside your booth. You scoff as he holds it up for you, eventually helping you slip into it before he shrugs on his own jacket.

“Together?” The monotonous waitress, who’d been taking care of you since you entered, punched a few buttons on the cash register. You noticed that she’d let her hair down and put on a sweater as you walk up to the counter to pay for your meal. She must be getting ready to go home as well.

“Actually–“

“Yes, please.” Timothée cuts you off by giving his card to the waitress, effectively stopping you from rummaging through your purse.

“What are you doing?” You whisper, watching Timothée’s face as he punches his card combination into the machine. He only smiles when he hears the beep of an approved transaction, and thanks the waitress before finally turning towards you.

“You paid last time.” He shrugs. You feel your heart flutter as he reminded you of the weekend you spent with him.

‘Oh no,’ You think, following him out into the parking lot and back to your car. This wasn’t going to lead to where you thought it was going to, would it…? He joined you for dinner, he listened to your mindless conversation, he helped you with your jacket, he paid for your food…

Well, it was fun while it lasted.

“Timothée,” As the two of you walked out onto the parking lot, he’d just opened the car door when you called his name. He stares up at you with a grin, his hand still resting on top of the car door. You swallow your nervousness. “what did you really want to talk about?”

The subtlety of Timothée’s faltering grin is hard to catch. He was well aware of it too, how tonight didn’t feel like a simple get together between two professionals… actually, it felt quite the opposite. Almost like a date.

“I like you.” He says, completely serious. You bite your cheek. “A lot.”

“We’re coworkers.”

“Can we not be more than just coworkers?”

You frown at his question. Maybe it was because he was young, but Timothée’s aggressiveness and passion makes your heart squeeze in your chest. You wanted to ask that question too, why couldn’t you be anything more?

“I’ve only known you for a week. I see you every weekday because I’m your boss. It’d be too much for us,” You start, finally stepping into your car and slamming the door shut. Timothée follows, and you keep on chewing at your cheek. You shouldn’t be so defensive; you had to stay professional. “at least not while we’re so young.”

“But we’ve got our whole life ahead of us, shouldn’t we at least try? We’re at the age where we can’t just waste our chances while they’re running out.” You let out a scoff at his words as you start the car, but you don’t say anything in response. You didn’t want him to know that his words resonated deeper within you that they should have.

You start the drive to his house in silence, and Timothée sighs as he lets his back collide with the seat of your car in frustration. Your relationship as coworkers was not coming to a very good start, but you suppose that it had to start somewhere. Plus if he was looking for a relationship with someone, there were plenty of great looking people at the office. He’d get over it and so would you.

“We’re here.” You say, pulling in the parking lot next to Timothée’s apartment building. Timothée turns to you one last time, and with a sigh, unbuckles his seatbelt.

“Thank you for the ride.” You nod and keep your eyes glued to your steering wheel, waiting for him to leave. You don’t see his gaze avert to your eyes, then to your lips. Timothée opens his mouth but says nothing, only pressing his lips together as he opens your car door to step out onto the pavement beneath you.

You feel yourself sigh in relief when he shuts the door. Don’t look back, you tell yourself. You wouldn’t be able to control yourself if you did. Instead you fiddle with your sun blocker to distract yourself.

Thoughts of Timothée swirled through your mind, especially what he had said before you drove him home. Don’t waste chances while they run out.

You let out a halfhearted scoff. You could only wish to think like that. To be impulsive and take chances as they arise but you can’t. Sure you were jealous, but you’ve got too much on the line… too much to risk.

You lower your sun blocker and notice a forgotten napkin slip out and onto your lap. Timothée’s number from last week. You frown.

You were just a coward.

Fuck it.

“Timothée, wait!” You call, practically jumping out of your car before running towards your assistant. You get as far as the front entrance before you see that he’d already gone inside and stepped into the elevator.

He only notices you behind the glass doors when he turns and looks up, just as the elevator doors begin to close.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, just after he stops the elevator from closing with his arm and runs towards you. He opens the door for you and you slowly walk inside, panting from your run over.

“I have to tell you something,” Timothée nods expectedly, and you rub the back of your neck.

“I really don’t think it’ll work out.” You start, watching the hopefulness in Timothée’s eyes die out. Just a bit.

“I barely know you– I liked you from when we slept together but that’s it. I was wondering where we were going to go afterwards as well, but when I saw you at the office last week, I thought I had my answer.” You step closer to him.

“But now I’m wondering… I really don’t know anymore. Maybe this isn’t going anywhere– I can’t be so sure. But when I’m looking back at the past seventy years, what’s the first week, really?” Timothée’s lips part as you look into his eyes, and you feel a warmth rising up to your cheeks. “Wanna go out?”

The corners of Timothée’s lips immediately upturn at the sound of your words, and his hand shoots up to his mouth to cover his smile. Though, you end up seeing it anyways as it travels to his eyes.

“If you’ll have me.”

#Timothee Chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet imagines #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee x you #timothee chalamet x you #timothee imagine #timothee fanfic

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elentiyawhitethorn · 3 years

Text

Sneaking Around | Chapter Eight

Ansel looked like she was about to have a nervous breakdown. “OHMYGODSAREYOUFUCKINGROWAN?!?!”

Aelin grabbed her phone from Ansel. The message read, Would you like to go out to dinner tomorrow?

Ignoring Ansel’s screetching, she replied, sure. im free anytime after six. That would give her almost a full day to convince Ansel to keep her mouth shut. Easier said than done. you might as well pick me up at my door. Ansel found out

Shit. was his response.

yeah i have to deal with that now

Have fun.

thanks for the support, jerk

Aelin then set down her phone and looked at Ansel with a calmness she didn’t even know she possessed. “Yes,” she said simply.

Ansel’s mouth dropped open even farther. “But. You. Hate. Him. And what about your secret lover boy?” When Aelin didn’t reply to this, Ansel yelled, “WHAT?!?! ARE YOU DATING ROWAN?!?! IS HE-”

Aelin just said, “Chill.”

“CHILL? HOW DO I CHILL RIGHT NOW?”

“You could start by stopping with the screaming.”

Ansel glowered at Aelin. “I think I know I know exactly how this is going to go. You’re going to do everything in your power to silence me. Begging, blackmailing, whatever it takes. So I have a proposal for you.” To Aelin’s questioning look she added, “I will not tell a soul about this if you tell me everything. I want the details.”

Aelin sighed. Of course she did. There really was no way to get out of this. “Sit.”

They sat on the couch. Ansel was still staring at Aelin like she had grown a third eye. “How the hell did this happen?”

Aelin explained the hookup, the morning after, and the ride home. The flirting at work, the date. Meeting at his place after hanging out with everybody. Going there after work yesterday, sending him to spy on Lys and the twins, and then this morning’s awkward “I like you.” It was surprisingly nice to get it all off her chest.

By the time she finished, Ansel appeared to have entered a state of shock. “But. Wait. Oh my gods. You. What. Oh my gods.”

Aelin suppressed her sigh this time. “Ansel... I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, truly, I am. But I really like him.”

Ansel sobered. “You like him,” she whispered. Having seemed to have finally wrapped her mind around it, she squealed. “Aw, you guys are so cute together! This is fate. I am involved now and you can do nothing to get rid of me.” Great. This would be fun.

Ansel insisted on preparing Aelin for her date the next day. As fussy as she was, she knew how to pick an outfit. Aelin was dressed in a deep green, velvety, flowing dress. It showed a fair amount in the front and back. A light layer of makeup was applied, including a cherry-red lipstick. Aelin’s hair was done up in a simple but pretty style, flowing around and then down her back.

It was six on the dot when there was a knock on door. Before Aelin could do anything, Ansel ran over and opened it. “Rowan, what a lovely surprise. Come in.”

“Ansel, butt out.” Aelin pitied the man on the end of Ansel’s prying.

Rowan smiled, then stepped inside. “Hello, ladies.” He was wearing a nice suit, not the same one as last time, though. Aelin was pleasantly surprised to find he had more than one. Rowan raised an eyebrow at Ansel.

Ansel smirked. “We made a deal. Silence for information.”

Rowan grinned. “Any interesting details?”

“Well, from what I hear, you’re rather good in bed.” Okay, maybe she had mentioned that to Ansel at one point.

Aelin’s face reddened. “Gods help me,” she muttered, glancing upwards.

Rowan’s grin widened. “Is that so?”

“We should be off,” declared Aelin, avoiding Ansel’s triumphant stare and Rowan’s self-satisfied gaze. She walked forward, grabbed Rowan’s arm, and dragged him towards the door.

“Now hold on a minute,” said Rowan. “Don’t you want to say goodbye to Ansel?” He had an innocent expression on his face. She was going to murder him. Both of them.

“You two are so cute together,” Ansel said. Rowan blushed too at this. Serves him right for not walking out the door when he had the chance. “I can’t believe this didn’t happen sooner. You’re so in love.” Ansel lived to stir the pot.

Rowan placed a hand on Aelin’s lower back and guided her to the door before she could pummel Ansel. He couldn’t stop her from flipping Ansel off, though.

Once the door was locked and they were a safe distance away, Aelin burst into laughter. Rowan gave her an incredulous look before chuckling. “This is what I have to live with, Ro.”

He smiled at his new nickname. The stood waiting for the elevator. “I’m glad to hear about my prowess in the bedroom, at least.”

Aelin stopped laughing. “Shut up.”

“I wonder what else you told Ansel about me.”

“Shut up,” she repeated, “before I kick your ass.”

The elevator opened and they stepped in. Rowan’s hand was still on her back. The doors closed and Rowan raked his gaze over her, lingering on the especially exposed areas. “You look beautiful, Aelin.”

She couldn’t prevent the color from rising to her cheeks, and after it had finally faded, too. “And you look very handsome.” Before either one of them could lose their self-control, the elevator opened with a ding.

In his car, Rowan asked, “Ansel won’t tell anyone, will she?”

“You know her. She talks, but she keeps her word.”

“Good. Not that... I mean...” Rowan stopped talking.

Aelin was very curious about what he was dancing around. Was this what he’d been avoiding yesterday? “Tell me,” she demanded.

“You’re going to the Christmas party.” Not a question.

“Yes...”

Rowan furrowed his brow. “Would you like to go to the party with me?”

Aelin blinked. “What, like together? As dates?”

Rowan sighed. Before he could make some comment about how she should just forgot it, Aelin said, “Rowan Whitethorn, are you proposing that we tell the others that we’re involved?”

“Maybe wait until the party, but yeah, I thought maybe we could.” He glanced over at her then quickly back at the road, avoiding her gaze.

Aelin smiled. “I’d like that.”

“Really?”

Aelin laughed. “What happened to your arrogance, Rowan? Of course we can tell them.”

Rowan chuckled. “You’re a bad influence on me.”

“I try. We don’t tell them until then, by the way. I need at least a few more weeks of peace.”

“Or as much peace as one being constantly pestered about their mysterious paramour can get,” Rowan added.

Aelin rolled her eyes. “Whatever you want to call it, yes, you’re right. Hopefully they’ll lose interest soon.”

“Doubtful. They’re like piranahs.”

“How true. We’re not much better, though,” Aelin responded.

They pulled up at a restaurant. It wasn’t the same one as last time, though it was still very nice. Rowan had good taste.

Upon entering, they began walking towards a table. Before they made it, something caught Aelin’s eye. Glancing over, she saw it wasn’t a something. It was Elide and Lorcan.

“Rowan!” Aelin whisper-yelled. Without waiting for a response, she grabbed his arm and dragged him back through the door, attracting a few odd looks.

Rowan was looking very confused. “What’s happening?”

Aelin didn’t say a thing until she got him out of sight of the windows. “Look at that table, the one near the kitchens.” She was still whispering, though totally unnecessarily.

Rowan finally caught sight of their two friends. “Oh. Well, that was unexpected. What are the chances?”

Aelin scowled. “I don’t give a shit what the chances are. Why didn’t Elide tell me she was going on a date?”

“You didn’t tell her about your date,” he pointed out.

“Oh, yeah. Well, let’s go to McDonald’s, then.”

Rowan choked, actually choked. “Tell me you did not just say that.”

“It’s good!”

“It’s disgusting, not to mention about as unhealthy as it gets.”

Aelin sighed. “Live a little, Whitethorn. Or just get a salad or something. Come on.” She pulled him to his car.

Muttering obscenities about the chances of an early death, Rowan reluctantly got in the car.

“Just so you know, I am not kissing you if you have chicken nuggets on your breath.”

Aelin gasped. “Not McDonald’s, then!”

Laughing, Rowan suggested a small restaurant a few blocks away. They drove in silence, Aelin mourning the lost opportunity of French fries.

They resumed their banter after ordering. Aelin got a large French-style sandwich. They moved to the topic of Elide and Lorcan, and how serious it was.

“If Elide didn’t tell me, it’s definitely a big deal,” was Aelin’s input.

“I agree, if only because they’re perfect together.”

Aelin mock-gasped. “Since when were you such a romantic?”

“Since your poisonous influence has spread, apparently. You’ve destroyed me.”

Aelin fluttered her eyelashes. “I’ve got quite the skills when it comes to men, don’t I?”

Rolling his eyes, Rowan said, “If you say so.” The nonchalant tone didn’t match his pick ears, though. Score.

The rest of dinner morphed into an insult match. Nice insults, though, if those were even a thing. Aelin loved fighting with Rowan.

Due to having work tomorrow, she didn’t drink too much wine. Why couldn’t it always be the weekend? When Aelin voiced her thoughts, Rowan rolled his eyes. They did that a lot in each other’s presence.

Dinner was soon over, and they walked back to his car. Once inside, Aelin leaned over the emergency brake and planted her lips on Rowan’s. She grabbed the lapels of his suit and pulled him closer.

Rowan pulled his face away long enough to chuckle and say, “Well isn’t someone-”

Before he could comment on her desperation, Aelin yanked him back to her lips. Her tongue parted his lips and she definitely felt him shudder. Rowan nipped at her lower lip, earning a reprimand that turned into a moan as his hand grasped one of her breasts through the fabric. His other hand ran through Aelin’s hair.

They didn’t separate until Aelin’s elbow hit the horn, scaring them both half to death. Once they recovered from the fright, they both burst out laughing. “Very suave, Aelin.”

“Shut up.” Aelin was so clumsy around Rowan. She thought back to when she woke up in his bed and ran into the door on the way out. Yes, quite suave indeed.

Rowan drove Aelin back to her apartment. “You know, next time I should drive. I get tired of having to look at you every ride,” Aelin declared, earning her yet another eye roll. She was probably setting a record.

He walked her to the elevator, in which they made out again. There really never was too much. It was quite an effort to detach when the doors opened. Aelin’s arms were looped around Rowan’s neck, and he laughed when she sighed disappointedly as he removed his hands from her body. “You’ll have plenty more chances to get your way with me,” he whispered in Aelin’s ear.

Aelin’s breathing was ragged, but she whispered right back, “Don’t doubt that.” Then she turned and walked towards her door, Rowan following.

Aelin unlocked the door, then gave Rowan a quick kiss. “Goodnight.” She opened the door and entered to find Ansel sitting on the couch. Surprise, surprise.

Aelin dropped down on the couch next to her, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl on her lap. Ansel took in her lack of lipstick, ruffled dress, and messy hair, and smirked. “A successful night, I’m assuming?”

Aelin grinned. “I’d say so.” Their little agreement hadn’t stated she needed to tell Ansel about things that happened after the initial conversation, but it still felt good to gossip. She mentioned seeing Elide with Lorcan, to which Ansel squealed, then spilled the details of the hot make out session.

Ansel beamed. “I know I already said it, but you two are so cute together. Why did it take so long to happen?” Aelin did not respond to this.

That’s when Aelin realized she forgot to tell Ansel about the conversation in the car. “We’re going to the Christmas party. Together.”

After another round of shrieking, gods help them all, Ansel asked, “So are you just going to show up holding hands or something?”

Aelin blinked. “Um, I guess so. At least not everyone will be there.” A lot of their friends went to visit their families during Christmas. “We’ll only have to deal with a few annoying idiots, not the whole group.”

Snorting, Ansel said, “You have such a high opinion of our dear friends.”

“We’re all losers and we all know it. Let’s not deny it.” Ansel snorted at this too.

Aelin chatted for a few more minutes, then got ready for bed and went to her room. Once there, she layed down and pondered her situation.

She and Rowan were getting serious. They were going to tell people. Aelin couldn’t bring herself to feel any anxiety at all, just excitement. Now she just had to pray to the gods that no one passed out from shock - or that nothing else could go wrong first...

#rowaelin #tog #sneaking around #my writing

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so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed · 3 years

Text

With the year coming to an end, here is everything I’ve written in 2020. I had quite a productive year, and wrote some fics I’m very proud of. I’ve also met wonderful new people and I’m going to participate in the big bang next year, as well as hopefully join more fests! Thank you to everyone who has helped me create these 12 fics!

March:

🤴 with no way out and a long way down Larry, 31k, T, written for the @hlroyaltyfest

Prince Harry is ten when he receives his soulmark.

May:

✈️ driving down a one way road (to something better) Zouis, 26k, T, written for the @wallsficfest

“I’m at the airport.” It’s followed by a bitter laugh. “I’m - I’m literally at the airport, hiding away in the toilets to make a phone call. They’re probably going to barge in here in a minute, thinking I’m doing something illegal, but I didn’t know what else to do Lou.” He sounds desperate, wild, nothing that Louis is used to associating with Zayn. “My flight leaves in an hour, and I wasn’t gonna do this, but, I didn’t know what else to do.”

Louis frowns. “What do you mean, love?”

“Can I - Can I please come and stay with you?” It’s barely more than a whisper, and Louis honestly isn’t sure if he’s heard it right, but the lack of an immediate response on his part makes Zayn’s breath come out all shaky and Louis won’t stand for that.

“Yes,” he decides, repeats it, in a softer but no less certain voice, when he knows Zayn is about to protest. “Yes. Of course. I’ll be there, yeah? I’ll come pick you up. When will you get here? What airport?”

---

When Zayn breaks up with his boyfriend, he needs a place to stay. Louis wouldn't be Louis if he didn't immediately open his doors to him. Never mind the fact that he's been in love with him for two years. That's not important, right?

July:

🏥 my love will never leave you Larry, 10k, T, written for the @wordplayfics challenge week 1

In a world where memories are used as currency, Louis will do anything it takes for Harry to get better.

🗝 sadness is a little boy looking out the window Ziam, 6k, T, written for the @wordplayfics challenge week 2

Liam is twelve when he receives the key. It’s given to him on his birthday, in a red velvet box, and something about the weight of the box in his palm gives him pause, makes him hold his breath when he unwraps the bow around it.

The bronze key looks innocuous, but Liam knows better. He’s grown up with the stories, as many people have. Has been told about the keys, and that most people except for an unlucky few got one at birth. Some were immediately gifted to them by their parents, others had been kept away from them until such a time that they were deemed responsible enough to understand what it meant.

Because this kind of key, it doesn’t just open any door.

It reveals what you need most, when you need it most, and it can only be used once.

✨ it’s time to find your wings again Larry, 12k, T, written for the @wordplayfics challenge week 3

The first reports are dismissed, as tall tales or folklore. As mental illness, poor Bathilda, she’d gone loopy. As people simply getting scared in the dark woods and seeing things, making things up. Magic isn’t real. Mythological creatures aren't real.

But then the first one is caught. A faun, that little Meg from around the corner swears has attacked her in the woods, and everyone comes to the marketplace to see the faun be hanged for its crimes. Louis doesn’t want to go, but at the same time, he finds himself unable to stay away. Not when this proves what he’s wanted to believe all along, that magic is real.

Louis is twenty when he starts working at the prison. His fascination for supernatural creatures had turned into something most closely resembling loathing over the years, due to the many stories of their evildoing, and although he still doesn’t believe in hanging them for their crimes, he does believe in keeping the town safe. In making sure that his siblings get to grow up without fear of being kidnapped or hurt. As the oldest son, it feels like his duty to make sure that no creature in the wide area will ever pose a threat to anyone.

🍛 it’s a long shot just to beat these odds Ziam, 14k, T, written for the @wordplayfics challenge week 4

Zayn: how many years in prison would I get for murdering a popstar???

He scrapes the plates clean, resists the urge to kick the trash can, his breathing still feeling shallow and high in his chest. He wants a cigarette. And a cuddle from Louis. But a text is the most he can realistically ask for now, and luckily Louis doesn’t leave him hanging.

Louis: ?????

Okay, so it isn’t that helpful, but Zayn knows his anxiety well enough that just distracting his mind is usually enough to keep from having an actual attack. It doesn’t matter that the subject he’s discussing is the one thing his brain is actually panicking about, just trying to formulate words into a text is helping.

Zayn: I served him raw chicken. RAW. And he was kind enough to want to try and eat it too. I could have killed him!!!

That would’ve made headlines for sure. FORMER BOYBANDER GETS POISONED ON FIRST DATE, more on the ten p.m. news.

Louis: well that’s one way of making sure he’s not going to go on any of the other dates. Bit drastic though mate.

August:

💌 if you’re lost just look for me Larry, 9k, T, written for the @wordplayfics challenge week 5

Let your dreams set sail.

Louis blinks at the sticky note, sitting casually in between a flyer advertising an upcoming gig for one of the many bands on campus (the heavy metal graphics implying that the music is not to Louis’ taste) and an ad for a yoga club (Louis is going to have to give that one a miss too). It’s small, barely noticeable unless you’re paying attention, just tucked away as though it’s been left there for Louis to find.

He snorts. “Let your dreams set sail. What a fucking joke.”

Louis' first year of college is everything he had hoped for it to be.

It’s why it’s so hard to swallow that his second year is everything but.

A fic where motivational quotes, no matter how cheesy, might just make everything better after all.

💐 the birth of love like a force of nature Ziam, 22k, T, written for the @ziamfantasyfest

After moving into a new house, Liam decides to introduce himself to the neighbours. The next thing he knows, he’s tied to a chair and threatened by a small army of fairies.

October:

👻 these days I watch you from afar Larry, 666 words, T, written for the @1dtrickortreatfest

“Are you talking to me?”

The boy blinks, blue eyes thoughtful as he cocks his head. “Yeah?”

“You can see me?”

🎃 love me like we don’t have tomorrow Ziam, 666 words, T, written for the @1dtrickortreatfest

"Are you going to see him again?" Louis asks. He’s sitting on a ruined wall, inspecting his long, dark nails. Talons, Zayn thinks. He nods.

“How many years in a row is this?”

Zayn glances at his best mate, doing up the buttons on his coat. “Dunno,” he says, even though he can recall, with perfect clarity, all the times he’s met up with Liam. Every Halloween that he’s spent with him.

"And he still doesn't know?"

☠️ be the end of me Zouis, 666 words, T, written for the @1dtrickortreatfest

"Who are you?" Louis asks, and Zayn can tell that he already knows. He's tense, poised for a flight from the inevitable.

Zayn still answers. "Death."

December:

🎄 room for your love underneath this tree Larry, 11k, T, written for the @1dchristmasfest

“IwannameetHarryStyles,” Daisy mumbles, and Louis blinks.

“What?”

“She says she wants to meet Harry Styles.” Phoebe pipes up, and Louis blinks again, absently switches the camera to himself because he knows that his followers will want to catch his baffled expression.

“You-” he starts, and then stops himself, because he did tell her she could ask for anything she wanted, and how can he go back on his word and tell her that he doesn’t actually have the power to make that happen?

Because Harry Styles is -- he’s next level kind of famous. Louis has two million subscribers on his YouTube, but Harry has eighteen times as many followers on his Twitter alone. He’s had three number one hits in the last year, and his last album had charted at the top spot for a record breaking 27 weeks. He’s a singer, actor and philanthropist, and there is no way in hell that Louis can get him to come meet Daisy for Christmas.

So of course he laughs, even if it’s a little bit breathless, and nods at her. “One Harry Styles for Christmas, coming right up.”

#hlcreators #1dsource #hljournal #larry #my fic post #my fics #2020 in writing #fic masterpost

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itsclydebitches · 4 years

Text

RWBY Recaps: Volume 8 “Refuge”

Happy Saturday, everyone! Welcome to week two of… fourteen? Is that how many episodes we’ve got this Volume? Man, we’re going to be here for a while.

There’s a ton to unpack in “Refuge,” but as promised I want to delve into the opening first. Given the scattered, symbolic nature of our intro I think it’s easiest to just chuck out observations in list form. I’ll segue back into cohesive recapping in a moment.

So, what have we got?

The glitching between a happy, whole Atlas and the burning wreckage we’re now dealing with. That works well given both Atlas’ tech-focus culture and the ways that tech has led to some of our biggest tragedies (hijacked army, framing Penny, etc.)

Ruby looks scared and is standing behind the rest of her team, separated from them by the title. I’m not really feeling that theme so far though, given Yang’s incredibly weak challenge, Ruby’s immediate forgiveness (during her talk with Penny), and the fact that she’s still working with half the team who vocally support her, particularly Nora. Unless something drastic changes, the idea of Ruby being the outsider here is silly.

We get shots of the girls with their past selves superimposed over their bodies and weapons. I like the message here—they carry those versions of themselves with them—just not how it’s contrasted with Ironwood’s image of an earlier Atlas now burning. So that’s all he is now? Everyone gets to embody their growth except for him? His past is erased to focus solely on our current predicament? I’m not picking up any redemption flags here…

Robyn’s hand reaches down towards Clover’s badge, which then circles to show off the Ace Ops. The final image contrasts an angry Harriet with a defeated Qrow. At least, I hope they’re contrasts. It’s going to read as absurd if they somehow end up working together after Qrow helped get her leader killed.

This morphs into Qrow alone who sits, devastated, until Robyn offers him a hand up and they both smile. I’m not a fan of this symbolism after the prison scene we got this episode. It’s like Qrow might have thought about his choices until Robyn’s anger reminded him that, oh yeah, he can be angry at Ironwood instead. These two teaming up, when their last team-up led to a death, is worrisome to say the least.

We get our horrifying image of Salem looming over Oscar as he clutches his head. The group’s weapons fall. This makes sense given this episode’s kidnapping and the team’s sheer inability to do anything to stop it.

Jaune stands determined—also makes sense with his trend of giving “pep talks”—while Ren and Nora stand apart, facing opposite directions. Nora looks back though.

Paralleling them are Winter and Weiss who also face opposite directions. This is becoming a common visual theme: Harriet and Qrow, Nora and Ren, Winter and Weiss. Here though, Weiss looks determinedly ahead while Winter stares down at her feet, unsure. Ugh, I just know they’re going to have her betray Ironwood too.

We get a brief glimpse of Whitley and Willow, not a whole lot to go on. Then we see Salem turning her chess pieces into grimm—literally changing the game—while Ironwood’s white pieces are turned to dust. I could make a quip about how white is supposed to go first, but the initial move was made thousands of years before Ironwood existed and thus he never stood a chance, certainly not when his own allies are actively working against him… but I won’t lol

Watts is smiling at a terminal while at his back Pietro works at his. More opposites. Pietro’s reflection looks to Penny even as his body continues to work, his heart contrasting his head. Penny, in turn, looks upset as her reflection flinches at something off screen and the glass cracks. Watts hacking her, perhaps?

We see the new teams as a cherry blossom (I think?) floats across the screen. It melts in Ren’s hand while escaping Nora’s. Honestly, I’m not sure what to make of that just yet.

Ruby and Yang share a look—undermining their supposed conflict this volume. Couldn’t we have gotten sister unity over the last three years instead?—and a fight against grimm starts up. It freezes as Cinder walks through it, hopefully implying that the group’s attention is on the wrong threat. While they concern themselves with low-level grimm, Salem and her allies are walking free and wreaking havoc.

Then Cinder screams and clutches her grimm arm as things go up in flames. I hope that’s not a death flag given that we’ve teased her death twice already and we only just got a glimpse at her backstory. Also, I think it’s worth mentioning here that there’s a “Summer is the Hound” theory gaining traction which, frankly, I think is 100% unsubstantiated. It’s a fun crack theory, but not something I’m inclined to take seriously until we get some actual evidence behind it. There is, however, potential evidence for people becoming grimm in general: Salem falling into the pool and Cinder receiving that arm. That’s not much though. So while I’m far from convinced that the Hound was once human—let alone that it was Summer—there is something to the theory that Salem may be able to control Cinder via her arm like she controls other grimm. After all, she knew Cinder was alive despite everyone else thinking she’d perished. They seem to have some sort of connection that hasn’t been explained yet and now that Cinder has willingly walked back into Salem’s clutches, she may not be able to walk out.

There are shots of all our other villains, the Lamp and the Staff reflected in Salem’s eyes, and Jinn’s blue smoke, perhaps suggesting that we’ll see her again, or the entity residing in the Staff (if they exist).

Atlas glitches back to normal—a false victory?—before the ice breaks and Team RWBY falls into the darkness below. Volume 3 vibes all around. There’s light above them emanating from the Staff, but as Ruby reaches for it grimm arms circle and pull her deeper. I hope this means that the group will suffer the defeat we need to keep Salem as a legitimate threat, but we had very similar imagery back in Volume 6 and they made it out of that situation just fine, so.

“Happy Ever After” glitches into “Happy? Never Again.” Which isn’t ominous or anything. We finally end on the classic RWBY image of Crescent Rose buried in the snow underneath the shattered moon.

On the whole I think the opening is strong and I like a lot of the symbolism in it, though I do question how much will actually end up being relevant to the story. My only gripes are that there are too many different styles going on—it feels like three or four different Volume openings slammed together—and the fact that it also feels overly long. I don’t think it’s actually any longer than our Volume 7 opening, but it seems that way to me, perhaps because of those varying styles breaking things up.

So that’s what we’ll be watching for the next twelve weeks! Let’s move onto the actual episode.

We open on the image of Clover’s bloody badge in Qrow hand, the same one we got in the trailer. I theorized last recap that we’d be getting the rest of our trailer/promo material this week and I was almost entirely correct in that. This moment, retrieving the bikes, fighting off the grimm, Watts getting hit, Oscar carried away… all we’re missing are some eye closeups and Nora powering up her hammer. As said, it makes me nervous for what the rest of the Volume holds. I can’t decide whether the footage wasn’t ready to be included in promo materials that early, or if RT is just determined not to give us any information past the first two episodes…

Regardless, this is supposed to be a moment of grief and all I could focus on was Qrow’s hand. Specifically, the lack of detail in it. On the whole, I’ve been very happy with the engine upgrade and I quite like RWBY’s animation now, but a closeup here draws too much attention to how, sometimes, they’re just not animating their characters in a way that looks natural. Where is Qrow’s wrist? Why is his palm perfectly smooth? Stylistically that’s usually fine, but when given the chance to stare at it you realize how odd it looks.

Says the woman whose own drawing skills suck but, ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

But we’re talking about the important bits in this episode! Out of frame Robyn is heard yelling, “This is your fault. You realize that, don’t you?” We’re meant to think that she’s telling Qrow this, especially with how he’s bent guiltily over the badge, until we cut to reveal Jacques right next to them.

I wish Robyn was saying all that to Qrow. It would mean that she was ignoring her own responsibility in Clover’s death, but at least it would have started an arc where Qrow has to grapple with what he did. Not the awful moment that’s coming up.

Before that though, Jacques claims that he’s the “victim” here who was “duped.” His hands may not be clean, but “at least I’m not a murderer.” Look, I’m not here to absolve Jacques of anything. The guy is an absolute shit stain on the Remnant world. However, he’s right in his overall point even if his words are BS. Meaning, Jacques is not a victim and he is a murderer, but he is not the one responsible for Clover’s death. Robyn has plenty of things to be furious at him for, but this is not one of them. Ironically, here we have Jacques functioning as the kind of villain the show wants Ironwood to be. He is a murderer because the company he runs exploits faunus and forces them to work in dangerous conditions (see: the death of Ilia’s parents). He is culpable because he a) had control over these conditions and b) has full knowledge of their flaws. He’s a racist who cares more about money than lives. His informed choices then led directly to deaths. Ironwood? Not anywhere near the same thing. Overlooking the “Omg Salem is here and I have to do something about it” context, he did not try to arrest Robyn. He did not force Qrow to resist arrest, or Robyn to get involved, or Qrow to break Clover’s aura, or Tyrian to stab him in the chest. Ironwood had no control or knowledge of these events, so he is not responsible for Clover’s death in the way that Jacques is responsible for the faunus’. RWBY is giving the right arc to the wrong character.

Robyn then insists that Qrow didn’t kill anyone. He didn’t strike the blow, but he certainly helped! Look, Qrow is one of my favorites, but I’m not about to claim that he didn’t have a hand in getting his friend killed. I seriously can’t believe the show is ignoring this.

We then segue into some, uh, questionable dialogue choices. Jacques is a “snake with a mustache”? Sorry, I can’t take Robyn seriously at the best of times, but definitely not when she’s tossing out laugh worthy insults like that. Nevertheless, this “snake with a mustache” is guilty because he “helped that man tear us all apart.” That man being Watts.

…why are they all in what amounts to the same cell with barriers dividing them? I suppose we could make the argument that they’re being held in some secret facility, given that they’re in this dark, garage-esque space with no lights and no other prisoners. Some sort of maximum security setup that... doesn’t have any other inmates and no additional security? Hmm. Then again, the power is supposed to be out and I don’t really trust RWBY’s ability to craft consistent backgrounds. I feel like they’re packed together merely because that’s plot convenient, not because it makes any sense in world.

Watts looks pretty comfortable in there though and Jacques is likewise full of confidence. He says that by now Whitley will have already called their lawyers to get him out. Now, non-imprisoned people know that the apocalypse is currently underway, as Joanna will later put it. No one is lawyer-ing at the moment, but it will be crucial to see whether Whitley is trying to get Jacques out despite the chaos. How faithful is he to his abuser? Can Willow start undermining Jacques’ influence now that they’re alone?

Jacque’s confidence thoroughly pisses Robyn off and she screams, punching the barrier between them. Keep this in mind for a second.

A moment later two guards show up to take Watts somewhere and… oh no. Please don’t tell me Ironwood is going to team up with him now that Penny has written him off? I know the guy has (presumably) already killed someone, and he must assume he’s killed Oscar, so we’re definitely in full villain territory despite the stupidity of it… but please don’t start working with Salem’s henchmen too. You know what? I’m not going to assume the worst until I actually see it. RWBY gives me enough nonsense as it is lol.

What I really want to talk about is that hit.

I’m somewhat concerned by a lot of the fandom’s reaction to this moment in comparison to another. Who remembers Volume 6? That scene when Qrow punched Ozpin directly into a tree? Now, I’m not keeping track of who says what when—this is a generalized reaction—but I saw a lot of posts defending that action. There were numerous justifications for the punch, but the three big ones were: 1. These characters are fighters and they’re used to it, 2. These characters have aura so it’s not that bad, and 3. Ozpin totally deserved it. Now, the problems here are that 1a. I don’t think punching someone when they’re crying on their knees is justified, whether they’re a fighter or not, 1b. Qrow was likewise punching Oscar, a totally innocent kid, 2. We had established earlier that Oscar was having trouble remembering to activate his aura and didn’t seem to have it active then (no ripple effect, he’s rubbing his jaw afterwards), and 3. Ozpin’s crimes are, as explored on this blog, not nearly the horrific actions that the story and fandom would like to paint them as. The point is that despite all this, lots and lots of fans said it was totally okay to punch Ozpin&Oscar. What’s the big deal? they asked. Now, lots and lots of fans—mostly when the trailer first dropped—say it’s not okay to punch Watts. Despite the fact that he’s also a fighter. Despite the fact that his aura has broken. Despite the fact that he’s not currently a threat (seated on the bed/Ozpin on his knees). Despite the fact that he’s responsible for helping Salem try to take over the world. If we were to make a case for who deserves to get hit, Watts is a WAY stronger candidate in my opinion, yet he’s the one who a lot of fans are scrambling to defend. Why? I assume it’s because hitting him feeds into the generalized police state/dictator theme Ironwood has been thrown into. It helps villainize Ironwood for fans to go, “Poor Watts. He’s done horrific things but no one deserves to face police brutality.” I agree. The only problem is that a lot of those same fans seem to have gone, “Ozpin can get over it. He deserved to be hit! I would have done a whole lot worse to him…” So is the difference only that one attacker is a military professional and the other is… a huntsmen professional who soon after that scene starts working for the military? Yeah. The show continually ignores that the group aren’t the rogue heroes they pretend to be. They worked under Ironwood for weeks, if not months.

The show isn’t clear about its morals and neither are the fans, with both changing tactics whenever it helps blame the character they already don’t like. When Robyn punches the barrier, do we really think she wouldn’t have hit Jacques if given the chance? Why would it be heroic for her to hit the Evil Man but it’s not okay for the grunt minor character to hit the other Evil Man? These morals don’t change just because you like Robyn and don’t like Ironwood.

Jumping ahead for a moment, we get another example of this hypocrisy with Joanna. A reporter is informing the people that the military seems to have stopped evacuations and there is an unheard number of grimm hanging out overhead, both things that are objective facts. He’s reporting as he should, sticking to what’s known and provable, and thus is, notably, not some lackey of Ironwood’s who is hastily presented as evil. Yet Joanna treats him like he is. She snatches the microphone from him and, when he starts to protest, threatens him with her weapon. After she’s done hijacking the feed, she shoves him on her way out.

Look at how scared this guy is. These are our heroes? This back and forth doesn’t work. Prior to his random killing spree, Ironwood took his fear and frustration out on some furniture, yet the show acted as if he was hurting real people. The mere possibility that he might use violence and intimidation to achieve heroic goals—getting Amity up/escaping Salem—was enough to label him as an antagonist because the understanding was that you can’t act like that no matter what your intentions are. Yet our current heroes can use as much violence and intimidation as they want to achieve their own heroic goal of warning the people? Do we think the story will encourage us to be critical of the group if they start beating up a bunch of Atlas goons to reach the access point? Of course not. And it’s that flip-flopping that’s the problem. Your heroes have to function differently than the villains in order for them to be heroes. Under that logic, our heroes haven’t acted like heroes since mid-Volume 6 and it’s getting harder and harder to watch.

Especially when we take the scene before this into account. Yup, we’ve still got Qrow gunning for Ironwood. Robyn bemoans the fact that they can’t do anything, to which Qrow replies, “We can do something. We can kill the man who put us here.” I… feel like I shouldn’t start repeating myself given how long this recap is—we’ll be here for forever lol—BUT I hope everyone reading this understands precisely how little this makes sense. How god awful a choice it is. I mean c’mon. Robyn attacked Clover unprovoked, Qrow teamed up with Tyrian, he broke Clover’s aura, Tyrian murdered him, Salem is here, and now he’s sitting in a cell with Watts and Jacques… but Ironwood is the guy he wants to kill? REALLY, QROW? THAT’S WHO YOU’RE GOING TO GO AFTER? I really can’t with this show sometimes. RWBY, put your clown makeup on.

We get a cut to Ironwood’s image just so there’s no confusion about who Qrow wants to help kill next and Joanna threatens that reporter who, you know, is also a citizen in need of help and protection… Her “General Ironwood has abandoned you, but we have not” sounds absolutely ridiculous when we just watched her intimidating this guy to get what she wants. ‘You can trust us! Unless we randomly decide we don’t like you.’ I have other things to say about Yang calling out that racist woman later on, but she gets props for helping her regardless. Honestly, I don’t get that sense from the cast very often: that they’d help you even if they don’t agree with you. They certainly didn’t offer that to Ozpin, Ironwood, or the Ace Ops.

There’s a very long shot of a scared toddler staring out the window, just to hammer home how young and innocent Mantle is. Seriously, pay attention to our imagery: Mantle is scared children in homes, cute children fist-bumping Jaune, family photos lost in the street, a stuffed toy run over by hoverbikes. It’s meant to evoke a general sense of domesticity and, again, innocence. Meanwhile, Atlas is only shown via Ironwood and Jacques, the villains. Where are the families living up in the sky? The children? The humanizing details? Our racist woman is an outlier who is quickly silenced by Yang. The rest of Mantle is characterized as victims: scared women, worried fathers, the faunus huddling together in the slums, even another racist who, while an asshole, is supposed to have a point about things like the embargo. Which is all true. These characters are all of these things, it’s just that they’re not unique in this. All this exists above too—from those families, to the faunus slave labor, to the beloved objects that remind you of someone’s worth—but they’re ignored to provide a simplistic look at Atlas as the villain.

Throughout this entire episode the group tosses out snide remarks about how “They” don’t care about you and it’s just… they who? The other thousands of innocents who have nothing to do with Ironwood? The hundreds of Mantle citizens you already evacuated? The redeemable people like Winter and Whitley? The group fights alongside a Schnee who was one of the most vocal racists a year and a half ago, yet writes off the entirety of Atlas as the bad guys. What a mess.

As Joanna’s voiceover finishes, we cut to Yang’s group going after Pietro’s tech. I already covered this scene in our promo material, but to summarize here: horrible tone. Absolutely nonsensical given the situation. Salem is here and Yang is giggling over bikes. In fact, the tone is off for most of the episode (our end being the wonderful exception): Yang’s joy ride, antics with the Mantle citizens, Blake poking fun at Weiss, the tube scene… none of it fits the context of the series’ big bad here to kill everyone. Arguments along the lines of, “But it can’t be doom and gloom all the time” or “This is a brilliant parallel to Volume 3 with happy times heralding tragedy” don’t erase the fact that our cast isn’t taking this threat seriously. Last week Weiss’ “We’re never going to sleep again” moment worked because it’s humor in the context of how bad everything is. All of this? It’s just the group goofing off despite supposedly being in mortal danger. This?

This doesn’t read well. I’d argue this scene is even worse in context due to lines like “The others are definitely missing out.” In our promo material I assumed that the group just split for the sake of splitting and they were, in fact, just missing out on something cool. But we’ve since learned that they split due to a fundamental disagreement about how to help people, a split Ruby compared to Salem’s plans, a split that Yang started! Why is she now acting like their separation is a funny “missing out” moment? It’s like if half your friend group decided to go to the movies while the other half went to a party with an unexpectedly good DJ. The movie-goers are people who are “missing out,” not the group who went off to take over a military base and everyone left angry.

Keep in mind that Ozpin is also back. Every fun times scene with Oscar in it has the added problem of Ozpin hanging back, not saying anything, not acknowledged, still a secret.

The other issue I brought up weeks back was the lack of grimm. Why are the streets deserted? Shouldn’t the army be overrunning the city? Well, turns out that there’s no army because… Salem just hasn’t bothered to send it into the city yet? When Jaune and Ren take out the low-level grimm Oscar asks if they’ve “already pushed this far in,” to which Yang replies, “No, I think those are from last night.” A few minutes later, last night’s grimm change to new non-Salem grimm as Oscar observes, “It’s the negativity. Salem’s forces aren’t moving in, but it’s enough to attract the stragglers.” Later still, Joanna asks, “…grimm are circling out there. What are they waiting for?” GOOD QUESTION. We don’t know, but it’s real convenient, isn’t it? RWBY redeems itself a bit at the end of this episode with that Hound grimm, but I’m still calling it out for having Salem hold off long enough for the group to evacuate pretty much all of Mantle and infiltrate the base. That’s real nice of her. As the characters keep pointing out, it would be a staggeringly different situation if they were overrun with grimm right now, huh? Kind of like the situation Ironwood (rightfully) assumed they’d be dealing with.

Again, I’m so glad our Big Bad is kind enough to let the heroes do everything they need to before lifting a finger to attack them.

RWBY seems to be setting up a, “See! There was always time to evacuate the city!” accusation even though no one could have known that and it makes zero logical sense. Salem brings an army with her so she can not use the army against Atlas? Right…

This all segues directly into our other promo scene. My initial comments still stand: the tone doesn’t work, the lack of urgency doesn’t work (Jaune playing with the kid, Oscar politely knocking on doors), the low-level grimm are not a threat, that shield is useless against anything not driven by plot convenience, and it’s weird for Jaune to be yelling, “Heads up!” when there’s no one in front of him. As said, this moment really doesn’t sit well given everything that’s going on. I had hoped that it would read better when seen in the episode itself, but that’s sadly not the case.

After Ren one-shots the grimm Jaune suggests that they use his amplified semblance to get everyone to the crater safely. Ren seems less than pleased about this, but agrees. Right now, it’s easy to say that he’s in a bad mood because Nora is mad at him, but what about the Volume before? Where’s this underlying tension coming from? I can come up with lots of theories, but at some point the show needs to confirm something. The longer we go not explaining what’s wrong with Ren, the less faith I have that it will make sense when we get it.

We see the racist woman upset that they have to go live with the “animals in the slums” rather than going up to Atlas. As said, I like that Yang helps her despite clearly hating the woman, I also think her criticism holds up well (ignoring the simplified ‘They abandoned you’ narrative). The only thing that bugs me is RWBY continually presenting racism as a problem to throw a band-aid on and then pat yourself on the back for ‘solving.’ Racist drunk says shit? Toss him in the trash! Racist woman says shit? Remind her that her survival depends on you! It’s not that these responses aren’t earned, but that we’re given them instead of an actual arc that tackles the complexities of this issue. I mean, Blake has abandoned the White Fang and we’ve barely mentioned the faunus slave labor in Atlas. When they head to the dust facility it’s conveniently run by bots instead of faunus. Can you imagine if Weiss Schnee walked into a group of exploited minorities, hoping to use them to access a military base? But of course, there’s nothing like that. RWBY ignores the actual issues for these simple solutions. Heroes just attack/threaten racists and then it all goes away. Yay.

The other problem with this scene is that we learn the crater is the slums. Um… what? Hold on, Joanna made it sound like it’s a separate place, potentially inhabited by grimm, yet it’s the same area Oscar was in last episode? How is that area warmer? This makes no sense to me.

Also, ha, the crater below Atlas apparently houses all the “animals” that Team RWBYJNR is very protective of. I’m waiting for them to do something that messes with the Staff—Ruby reaching for it in the opening—Atlas crashes down on a whole city of exploited minorities, and then Ironwood is blamed for it somehow. Can’t wait for that episode.

So the group starts making their way there and hark! An Ozpin! I’m always thrilled to hear him, even if he’s treated just terribly by the show. Oscar is at the back of the group and comments that “It should not be this hard just getting people to cooperate.” Except… they are cooperating? Oscar, you are watching them cooperate right in front of you. That one woman might grumble a bit, but she hasn’t made a move or said a word about not doing what you say. Where did this complaint come from? Another example of RWBY insisting something is there when it simply isn’t. More importantly, Ozpin responds:

“And yet, it’s becoming something I’m increasingly concerned about.”

“You know, I really don’t need your additional comments right now.”

Then why did you comment out loud, Oscar? What, do you normally talk to yourself like that? You were clearly speaking to Ozpin! Don’t criticize him for responding. I hate traps like that.

Ozpin immediately says that Oscar has every right to be upset and apologizes for leaving… it’s not apologizing for his entire existence like I wrote on the bingo board, but it’s close. Who’s surprised that Ozpin is the first to offer (another) apology? Not me. Oscar corrects him with, “I’m upset you came back!”

Okay. Here’s the thing. I like the idea of Oscar rejecting Ozpin both because he’s taken over his life and because Oscar has suffered horribly due to Ozpin’s presence (punched, slammed into walls, kidnapping attempts, etc.) That makes sense, it’s actually morally complex, and it’s great groundwork for character growth. The only problem is… this came out of nowhere. Oscar was shown accepting this new life when he left the farm. Then again when he insisted on fighting Hazel. Then again all the times he’s been told he’s acting like Ozpin and seems to accept that just fine. He’s clearly pleased with this new badass self he’s got going on—he even says as much—yet doesn’t want to acknowledge Ozpin as the catalyst for all this positive change. Okay, that’s something we could still work through, but what about the group? Fans are already theorizing that this is why Oscar is keeping Ozpin a secret, because he’s scared of how the group will react, punishing him to get at Ozpin again, and though he 100% has reasons for thinking that will happen, Oscar hasn’t shown that fear before now. Qrow punches him? Bonding moment with Ruby. Jaune attacks him? I made you all dinner. They all smile over his inevitable death/disappearance? He smiles back. Yang is the most scream-y? Happy to have her using him as an armrest. The group continually ignores him and treats him with suspicion? Not a peep of protest. It’s horrifying that Oscar accepted how the group previously treated him, but he did accept it. Where did this fear come from if we haven’t seen it in response to the harm done towards him? Just as importantly, can’t we have an arc where Oscar is mad at the team some too? I’ll admit that the general premise of blaming Ozpin makes sense for the traumatized fourteen-year old, but after two years of blaming Ozpin for everything… aren’t we sick of this? His team has actively hurt him, outside of Ozpin’s ability to prevent, yet Ozpin is the one who takes all the heat for their behavior. “I felt like I was actually part of the team” should lead to the realization of, “Hey, Yang shouldn’t yell at both of us for things outside of our control” not, “Hey, you should stay away forever because others have decided they don’t like you.”

All of this following Ozpin saving Oscar’s life in the airship. Then saving his life again after Ironwood shot him. Our heroes are real grateful, huh. I hate that RWBY is taking another fave and doing them dirty, though I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.

Ozpin also mentions his magic—would be nice if Oscar brought that up with the team!—and that he is now “recollecting my longest held memories.” He…is? When? Don’t you think that’s something important to show us? We keep being told that “the merge” is occurring but not shown what that actually means. Seriously, when did Oscar get slammed with that many memories??

Please just use the aura machine and give Ozpin a robot body. RT doesn’t have the chops for writing this situation.

As they continue on towards the crater Ren snaps at Jaune about not needing a “pep talk.” Jaune looks annoyed at the attitude which, fair. It says a lot about the writing the last few years that Jaune is the character I’m least frustrated with lol. Likely because they haven’t had him do anything lately which, given that he’s not one of the title characters and our cast is bloated enough as it is, I’m still totally fine with.

Ozpin concludes the scene with, “We need to find a way to work together. Not just the two of us, all of us” with the camera panning up to look at Atlas. I’m glad someone isn’t ready to throw Ironwood under the bus. Given how the group reacted to him sparing Lionheart’s name though, I don’t think they’ll follow Ozpin in his forgiveness. If anything, I expect this perspective to just be more hate fuel.

We move to Ruby’s group which now includes May. Woohoo! She still hasn’t gotten half the screen time as Joanna, but I’m really glad she’s here. In fact, between a useful semblance and that adorable courtesy, I love her already. Despite, you know, helping the team break into the base and all that. Everyone has their flaws lol.

She also frames the Amity plan as getting the world “talking again.” Why is everything presented like a fun romp rather than avoiding death via Salem? Absolutely terrible tone this episode.

The group hilariously waltzes past a sign labeled AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY and enters the dust facility with the bots I mentioned earlier. This I do like. My hypothetical scenario incorporating the racism issue aside, I like that Weiss is using her knowledge and connections to further the mission, rather than something conveniently dropping into the group’s lap. Like Amity suddenly being ready for launch…So yeah, it makes sense that Weiss would know of a potential way in.

Sending someone up through the tubes though? Ehhh… I know they have aura and everything—and that Zwei was once mailed—but are we sure this is safe?? Doesn’t matter because Nora sends Weiss through with a misplaced button press. Good thing that was the tube heading to the base. Too bad Weiss is heading to a guarded military base alone. It should have been May going first with her semblance activated, but no. Chuck this onto the ever increasing ‘Bad Tone’ pile. There should not be giggles over Weiss being in that level of danger, especially with everything else going on. Ruby’s expression is the only one on point.

Before Weiss is yeeted off though, Penny and Ruby have a talk wherein Ruby lies her ass off. Penny says, “I do not like it when friends fight” and when Ruby starts talking about Yang she corrects her, revealing that she’s actually thinking about Winter and Ironwood. “They were our friends.”

I was ready to sing Penny’s praises and really, she still gets credit for being the only one who has acknowledged this, but her opinion is (once again) overridden by Ruby’s. Penny goes, “but then the Ace Ops attacked you” which Ruby doesn’t bother to correct. How would Penny know otherwise? The only information she has about that battle is what Ruby has told her, but Ruby is lying via omission here. The Ace Ops never attacked her. They very explicitly refused to start a fight. Ruby attacked them. Then when Penny is upset that Ironwood said “people were going to die because of me,” Ruby takes her by the shoulders and angrily insists, “That was a lie and he was only saying it to hurt you.”

Ruby… you’re the one lying. You know damn well Ironwood didn’t just say that to hurt Penny. Oh yeah, the general trying to keep a kingdom alive from an immortal witch is preoccupied with hurting Penny’s feelings for no reason other than being evil. That makes sense. More importantly, Ironwood is right. Look, I’m by no means blaming Penny for anything. She fought off Cinder, took the power when there was no other choice, and has now gotten caught up in Ruby’s plans which include incredibly misleading information that Penny has no reason to question. She’s doing her best and deserves that hug. But that doesn’t mean she lacks responsibility here. Ironwood needs Penny to evacuate. Penny—listening to Ruby—won’t help him. Ergo, if something happens to the people up in Atlas Penny will be partly responsible. If I have the key to a door with lots of people trapped behind it as a fire rages, and I refuse to open that door, I have indeed allowed a lot of people to die. As Penny says, she didn’t want this responsibility… but she has it. She has to deal with it. Too bad she’s with Ruby who encourages her to ignore it instead, insisting that nothing bad that happens after their choices could in any way be connected to them. Kind of like Qrow ignoring his own actions against Clover.

Because that’s the takeaway from this scene. Penny had empathy for their friends and then Ruby talked her out of it. She never even acknowledges that those were indeed seven friends that she betrayed. That’s horrible.

What happened to Ruby? I used to love this girl.

Continuing our tone issue, Nora is watching this show like her favorite soap is on. Okay then.

Weiss goes up the tube and then we cut to Fiona saying that… the Mantle police are helping them evacuate? So the military is bad, but the police are good? I need to stop trying to make sense of RWBY’s allegory.

When Yang and the others return Fiona makes an innocent comment about being worried about how they’d fare without the rest of their team. Yang is pissed.

Ah, so we’re back to her giving allies attitude for random observations. Remember the anger at Marrow for suggesting she and Blake try different team-ups? Now here Yang is, in a different team-up, doing quite well. Funny how we never acknowledge who first suggested that. Now, Fiona reveals a totally logical worry that losing four fighters might make a difference when fending off grimm, but Yang is poised to be angry at everyone, about everything, all the time. Which I get is something that a lot of fans like. I’ve already seen a couple of posts praising RT for letting Robyn and Yang be angry without consequences because women often can’t do that and, fair. That is indeed one way to read it. My problem is that their anger is actually irrational, not just called as much because we women are ~emotional~. Their anger isn’t justified: Robyn because she had a significant hand in all this nonsense (that she’s ignoring) and Yang because it’s clear Fiona means no harm here. This is anger that needs to be called out, not ignored because yay women expressing emotion. That kind of defense is reserved for a woman’s justified anger that needs to be expressed without criticism, especially in a narrative that tries to undermine her perspective. But what has Fiona done to Yang? Nothing. More importantly, the show has yet to teach Yang a better coping mechanism than lashing out at people, be it with her fists, words, or angry glares. Yang has been through the ringer and it makes sense that she’s angry, but that doesn’t mean she gets a lifelong pass to treat those around her badly.

Anyway, Joanna says they have a lot of people to keep warm even though the crater was supposed to be warmer? And they’re stealing dust? So what are they using it for it not heat? We’re not seeing any difference here and frankly all the civilians should be dead by now. Or at least entering hypothermia. (Give me that conflict: how do you keep people safe when they’re not all conveniently up for walking all the way to the slums?) Joanna also says that they’re trying to get the “Old mine shafts into a livable condition” which would take how long exactly? In fact, I’d say our timeline is already wonky. We’ve watched Yang hide the Ace Ops last Volume, fly to Winter and Penny, find the Happy Huntresses, wait around for Oscar to show up, ran off on her own at some point to scout, went to get bikes, evacuated all those people to the (far away) slums, then went back out to fight off the grimm. That had to have taken up a good chunk of the night, though it’s impossible to tell the time with Atlas’ snowy sky. I’m leaning towards a bingo mark though…

The faunus who I thought was a badger or something is… a bear I guess? He has a bear-like paw, but his nails seem too long… I honestly don’t know. But he’s Fiona’s uncle! Cute. She's off to deal with a fight that’s starting while the group goes to fight more grimm. Finally, the episode gets good.

The teamwork to take out the dragon grimm was nice, always glad to see it, but the real fight starts when two more grunts show up and then immediately run away. What could have scared them off?

The Hound. (I’m sorry, all I can think of is Game of Thrones when I write that, but it seems to be the name the fandom is adopting, so…) Remember how I said it was unlikely to be a threat on its own? I WAS WRONG. Holy shit this thing is terrifying. It snatches Oscar and in some wonderfully quick animation absolutely obliterates the kid. Oscar is thrown around like a chew toy, desperately trying to rabbit kick at this thing and it does [checks notes] absolutely nothing. I’d normally say something about our farm boy always getting the shit kicked out of him, but this scene was too good for my salt.

Then it changes shape, growing arms, and starts using Oscar as a shield. Yang can’t pull back in time and is snagged by her head, the Hound tossing her into the wall hard enough to break the stone. She’s still conscious though and warns the others about its strategy.

“But grimm aren’t that smart,” Jaune says. Maybe if you kids (Fiona keeps calling them kids) had stayed in school you would have learned that grimm get smarter with age! Oobleck knew that. Or, just as likely, this is a special Salem grimm. Hard to say at this point.

The point though is that the group is helpless in the face of this monster. I do want to emphasize this. I’ve seen a few people criticizing them for not doing enough to save Oscar and it’s like, what did you want them to do? Yang tried to attack and the grimm nearly had her hitting Oscar instead. Ren tried to attack and the grimm changed so fast his weapon was useless. Factor in that morphing—which the group has never seen before—the horror of Oscar hanging there limp, and the general fighter response of, ‘I can’t just keep attacking head on because that thing might kill me,’ and you realize the group was screwed from the start. They can’t stand up against this thing, not without a good strategy anyway, which there’s no time to think up. For the first time in years, ever since Tyrian, Salem actually made the right, villainous call.

Ren screams, “Give him back!”—which was just lovely in an angsty way—and the grimm creepily cuddles Oscar against his chest. Then he responds, “No.” Yeah, they’ve never seen that before either. Can you blame them for their shock? I’m impressed that they were on their bikes just seconds later, managing to keep the grimm in sight. That speaks to their combat experience. Not the ability to power through a situation where they’re clearly outmatched, but their ability to pick themselves back up and try again.

... Ah, so that’s why Pietro was oh so randomly making them bikes. The plot needed a way for them to keep up with a flying grimm. Got it.

My takeaway? RT should be writing horror. They’re far better at it. The animation, sound effects, voice acting, the grimm’s speech and protective instincts, that splatter of goo on Oscar’s cheek…

... stellar all around. Like the Apathy, this is the best I think RWBY has been since the lore episode of Volume 6. Granted, action sequences like this aren’t required to grapple with any of the messy morals and character consistency of other scenes, but still. If RWBY had just given me a lighthearted ‘Girls fight cartoon monsters’ show or a horror fueled ‘Girls fight monster abominations’ show, I’d have been happy. This? This is the only redeeming part of the episode. And it’s indeed one hell of a redemption. Look at this thing!

I’m not going to say it erases all the bad we got—it doesn’t—or that it likewise erases problems like Salem not using the rest of her army, but it’s a notable step in the right direction. This grimm is a threat. This grimm is a mountain the cast has to overcome. If this is the minion its master should be Everest. I still think this Volume is going down the tubes fast (it’s going the way of Weiss lol), but if it can give me more scenes like this? It might not be a total loss.

Last thing to acknowledge: What about Ozpin? I’ll admit it doesn’t look good. Given how fast he takes control he should have been able to override Oscar’s will and at least fight back a little with that spectacular magic we saw during the finale. So why didn’t he? I hope we get an in-world explanation: it happened so fast even Ozpin couldn’t do anything (shaky, but I’ll take it in a pinch), now that the merge is farther along he can no longer take control—something. Because I can easily imagine how quickly the fandom, and even the cast, will turn on him for not playing deus ex machina here. In reality, I think Ozpin didn’t take control simply because the plot needed him not to. The writers needed Oscar kidnapped so any potential out from that is conveniently forgotten… which is another knock against their writing, despite how great the scene otherwise was. The point is to take all these potential pushbacks and find a satisfying way to circumvent them, not pretend they don’t exist. RT can still save themselves here by providing that explanation later, so I hope they’re smart enough to do that. Ozpin has been blamed for everything at this point. His own kidnapping doesn’t need to be added to the list.

Also, still no word on Schrödinger's councilman. We’ve got to wait another week to see whether he’s dead or not.

Finally, let’s update the bingo card!

I’m crossing off “Ruby gives an ‘inspiring’ speech built on ignoring facts she doesn’t like” for that conversation with Penny. Yeah, it’s a speech to her alone about her worth, but Ruby mischaracterized the situation so badly I’m mad at her lol

I never thought the story would straight up just not have the grimm army attacking, so I think I’ll hold off on “Army of grimm conveniently doesn’t kill any civilians” until we see if/when it gets involved.

I’ll likewise hold off on the timeline slot until we see how bad things get…

Maria is on thin ice given that we have no idea what she’s supposedly doing while the group is off on their missions. Stay tuned.

Today we’re crossing off “Deadly cold conveniently doesn’t kill any civilians.” They should all be dropping like flies by now.

A friend pointed out that Cinder’s Cinderella flashback counts as an “Overly obvious fairy tale allusion.” In fact, I talked about how much of a shorthand that is, so that’s getting a mark.

From last week I’ve also decided to include Amity for “Retconning previous lore.” Now that the group is fully underway with their plan it reads as even more egregious that we were told it wasn’t ready.

I’ll hold off on Ozpin’s space for a while. See if he apologizes to the whole group and, if so, exactly what for.

“Oscar is finally kidnapped”—check!

Well, that’s a whole lot of headway this week. Can’t wait to see where the next episode takes us... Here’s hoping we spend a lot of time with that Hound. MVP of the episode.

Until next time! 💜

[Ko-Fi]

#rwby #rwby spoilers #rwby volume 8 #mymetas #rwby recaps

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scripttorture · 3 years

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Hello! I’m a long time follower of this blog and first of all, I wanna thank you for your amazing work! I’ve learned so much from your analysis and explanations! My question is: I have a character that is kidnapped along with two partners/friends that are beaten to death in front of her. She then endures torture such as being repeatedly drowned, tased and whipped, and she spends most of the time in a stress position (hands tied above her head from the ceiling). That lasts about 2/3 days (1/2)

When they threaten her with rape, she says the information she’d been withholding in an attempt to escape it. Is this realistic, or does it go against the fact that the most you torture, the less the victim is likely to cooperate? Also, they end up raping her still, and shortly after that she is rescued by her friends. What would be the extent of her psychology damage? I don’t want her to bounce right back into work like nothing’s happened - that would be disrespectful to actual victims (2/2)

I find gauging/explaining the extent of psychological ‘damage’ difficult because one of the things I try to avoid here is grading people’s pain. We have a tendency to default to almost ranking these things and I don’t think that’s helpful. It’s a perfectly legitimate question (and I don’t think you are trying to rank how much this character suffers) but it’s a… cultural quirk that makes answering a bit more difficult.

The truth is that with all of these things there’s a range of individual responses rather then one universal ‘right’ answer. So if you’re struggling remember that the target you’re trying to hit isn’t a pin, it’s a boulder.

As you practice writing different survivors you’ll get more confident handling symptoms and long term mental health problems.

I’ll circle back to that, let’s tackle the question of whether people ‘talk’ first. I think a lot of people get confused by this because there are a lot of factors at work and it’s difficult to picture the knock on effects of all of them at once.

Torture does not lead to accurate information. It fundamentally can’t. And it can’t because of mixture of factors including:

how our memory works

how our nervous system works

how torturers behave

the effect torture has on organisations more broadly

the erosion of public trust torture causes

The question of whether an individual victim ‘talks’ or not concerns the first two points. Which (putting it briefly) are: pain and trauma cause memory problems meaning that torture actively destroys the evidence it claims to seek and that we are stubborn creatures who become a lot less inclined to actively cooperate with people who hurt us.

However the issue is bigger then the victim here.

When an organisation uses torture they lose the public trust, people stop volunteering information. And volunteered information is the main source of accurate information for any organisation.

This means that the majority of people arrested by these organisations typically know nothing. They are then tortured and given a big incentive to lie.

This creates a cycle of increasing misinformation. I talk about this effect in more detail here.

On top of all this torturers… how to put this… They don’t give a fuck about genuine investigation.

They claim that they do. But their actions tell a different story.

Torturers don’t record what their victims say. They do not fact check what their victims say. There are multiple recorded incidents of torturers continuing to ‘interrogate’ prisoners who did not speak the same language and of torturers continuing to torture when victims were clearly physically incapable of responding.

There have also been cases where victims have reported trying to give up information only to have torturers completely ignore it and carry on.

And torturers are no better at telling the difference between lies and truth then anyone else. They often believe lies told by victims who know nothing. And they are equally likely to dismiss the truth.

The main point to understand here is: there’s a difference between a character giving up information and a torturer/organisation that tortures obtaining accurate information.

Personally? I think it is easier from a writing perspective to have the character lie, especially if this is your first time writing something like this.

Writing torture is hard. It will be a lot easier to avoid falling into the common torture apologia trope that ‘torture works’ if the character lies. Especially if you don’t think the narrative has the time and space to explore the knock on effects of torture on the villainous organisation.

So this isn’t so much an issue of realism as what you feel you can take on in this story.

A small number of people do try to tell torturers the truth or give up information. But the scale of misinformation that torture produces is so vast that any small truths get lost among the lies.

Conversely readers expect that if they see a character telling torturers something true, there are going to be narrative consequences. They expect this to mean the Bad Guys ‘know everything’ and will act on it.

Realistically… torture can’t produce that sort of coordinated, thought through response. Because for everything this character says there are twelve others in separate cells contradicting that information. Because her torturers may not actually want to hear the truth, because they’ve probably sunk a lot of time, effort and personal prestige into a lie they heard a month ago being ‘true’ instead.

But that’s not a leap most readers will make. It isn’t a context you can expect the average reader to understand. That isn’t me disparaging your readers it’s just… accurate information on torture is hard to find or access, so most people believe the apologia they see everyday. It’s another kind of trope and we’re all used to tropes playing out a particular way.

Question whether your story has the space to explain this context and whether it can be done in a way that’s narratively satisfying.

If the answer is ‘no’, or if you just feel like it’s a lot to tackle, then I think you’re a lot better off with the character lying to her torturers.

Looking over the torture scenario itself I think you do have a survivable scenario here.

I would say that it’s uncommon for victims to be put in stress positions for a few hours: generally the typical time frame is around 24-48 hours. Using a stress position in this scenario would still be painful but you don’t need to use it. You already have a lot going on with five separate tortures (six if this character is beaten as well.)

I don’t see anything wrong with keeping it in here if you feel it adds something to the story. But if you want to drop one of these abuses the stress position seems like the odd one out.

Circling back to the beginning and the psychological problems torture causes, I think a definition of ‘disability’* is helpful here. Disability is any impairment, mental or physical, that has a substantial, long term, negative effect on daily life.

That’s what we’re talking about with torture survivors.

Recovery is possible. Life for survivors can get better. Every common psychological condition torture causes can improve with time, treatment and life style adaptions.

But we are talking about disability. Improvement and a happy life doesn’t mean that someone goes back to the way they were before.

Let’s take a few examples from the list of common symptoms which you can find here.

An ‘easy’ example to think through would be something like chronic pain. I think most of us can imagine how being in pain every day would have a negative impact on your ability to do things.

It can make it harder to perform normal, daily tasks. People with pain in their knees might struggle climbing stairs and walking long distances for instance. People with pain in their arms or shoulders might struggle to get dressed, hang washing on a line and access things on shelves above chest height.

Chronic pain can also make it harder to interact positively with people and socialise. We’re rarely at are best when we’re in pain.

A harder example to think through might be the kinds of long term memory problems torture commonly causes. You can read more about them here.

One possible type of memory problem is a sort of general forgetfulness that a lot of survivors experience. It is not dementia, it isn’t a progressive loss of memory. But some survivors find it a lot harder to remember information and that can have a huge impact on a person’s daily life.

Typical examples are things like:

forgetting medical appointments, which can lead to people being denied treatment

being consistently late for work, which can lead to loss of employment

difficulty managing money

forgetting to pay bills, leading to essential services being cut

forgetting meetings with friends, leading to reduced social life and isolation

That’s not a complete list but hopefully it gives you an idea of some of the ways this particular symptom impacts daily life.

This thought process that I’ve outlined is what you’re aiming for when you’re trying to think through symptom severity. It imagining the knock on effects on daily life and ensuring they’re at a level where the character is disabled.

That will look different depending on the combination of symptoms you pick.

Survivors don’t typically experience every possible symptom. As I said there’s variety; survivors of the same traumatic event can come out with completely different sets of symptoms and we’re not always sure why.

Given that I think the best thing a writer can do is pick 3-5 symptoms from the list for their character and show those symptoms consistently over the course of the story.

Remember that symptoms can improve. A person’s mental health problems can get better; but this means ‘easier to deal with’ rather then ‘no longer there.’

It’s also worth keeping in mind that the same mental health problem can look different in different people. It’s common for people with depression to experience insomnia but it’s also common for people with depression to feel tired constantly, sleep excessively and find it impossible to get out of bed.

Decide on the symptoms you want to write then take a moment to think about how they should manifest in this particular character.

I find it helpful to consider what it will add to the story. If a symptom works well with a theme in the story or creates interesting narrative opportunities then it’s usually a good pick. When thinking through the severity of the symptom consider whether this particular disability would create interesting challenges for the character as the story progresses.

Recovery and learning to live with disability takes months or years. It’s not linear and there are some people who will require regular assistance.

Essentially because symptoms are so varied between survivors and because they can manifest is different ways I can’t give you a perfect road map to writing trauma. There isn’t one ‘correct’ way to do it because there isn’t one way it manifests in life.

But it isn’t necessarily as hard as it sounds. Writing this stuff well takes practice, trial and error. That shouldn’t stop you from trying.

If you can I’d recommend finding a beta reader or writing group. Having other people reading over your stuff and giving feedback can really help. It’s a good way to make sure your scenes are coming across as you intend them to.

I’d also recommend taking a look through ScriptTraumaSurvivor’s archived blog here.

I hope that helps. :)

Available on Wordpress.

Disclaimer

*I’m quoting from UK anti discrimination law here mostly because I think it’s a clear, helpful way of picturing what we’re talking about.

#writing advice #tw torture #tw rape #tw kidnap #torture as interrogation #torture does not work #memory problems #torture and organisations #torture and compliance #writing victims #writing recovery #writing torturers #scarring torture #clean torture #disability #mental illness #time frames for torture

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