#i feel personally attacked by this relatable content

[tswhiisftteedr]

Not to be rude but you accidentally put val's story in vox's masterlist instead. Srry I didn't feel comfy dming you. Nothing against you at all I'm just a coward wanting to hide in anon haha. Ig while I'm here could I get vox general hcs pls?

What the Tv do? ☆ Vox General Headcanon + Drabbles (SFW & NSFW)

☆ Vox General headcanon + Vox x Gn!Reader(Employee!Reader??):

Some general thoughts about the tv man and also his relationship with the ‘reader’. This is silly, this is fun, fluffy and smutty.

Warnings: Mature Content, Not Proofread, Drinking, Death(literally overdose on coffe nothing gruesome), Drug use(c0caine and others substances), Sadistic Tendencies, Dub-Con, Power Imbalance/Power Play, Obsessive and Possessive Tendencies and Acts, Stalking, Voyeurism & Exhibitionism, Boss x Employee, Pet Play?(Just collaring and slight animal based pet names), Valentino.

Words: Total: 5496 = Sfw - 2609 + Nsfw - 2887

Note: I only wrote 1 drabble, i might add more if people request it about the specific headcanon they want more on. so I’m not good with request like these, I like when they are more specific so I have sort of something to base my writing on, so sorry if you anon or people don’t like what I’ve wrote, r.i.p. >:/ Though tell me if you want more!!

☆ more under the cut. ☆

SFW:

☕︎ Coffee addict and 𓏊 Alcoholic

Vox is the figurative and quite literally incarnation of the ‘don’t talk to me until I’ve had my coffee’ phrase.

But we’re talking coffees instead of coffee with him — two cups straight out of bed to be precise. When totalling the day’s consumption, Vox indulges on average, 6-7 cups of 10 oz coffee; in addition to his morning coffees, he likes to have a mid-morning cup, then two during lunch and finally 1-2 cups during the afternoon depending how late he is working.

Is this per say, ‘healthy’? No, not at all, Vox couldn't care less — worst ‘worst’ case scenario, he quote on quote dies, the coffee he had intake ends up intoxicating him due to the splurging amount of it, turning this mondaine drink into a lethal liquid for the overlord’s body. His heart would stop, sub-consequently, him and his body would be out.

Though the good thing — or bad, it all depends on your angle — about hell is that in about the span of 10 minutes his body will have fully regenerate and be back open for business. Some sinners call it it a curse, he calls it a blessing, as this part of the ‘eternal punishment’ practically makes him immortal.

So is he going to work on regulating his caffeine intake? Obviously not!

Worst thing he gets from his ‘little problem’ is a heart attack, and they don’t permanently keep him down. — Sure, they hurt like a bitch, and he would rather not be having them at all to be truthful.

But he honestly he doesn’t see his bimonthly cardiac arrests as that steep of a price to pay. (Honestly how can such a smart businessman be so dumb about his health. * face palming and baffled at the idiocy of it all *)

Now when alcohol is the subject of conversation, Vox takes a slightly different approach, albeit one still characterized by overindulgence.

You see, he prides himself on being the epitome of a charming, classy, and self-controlled casual drinker, compared to his drunkard of a pattern —Valentino— our lovely show host with anger issues and both inferiority and superiority complex is a sophisticated and savvy man.

However, beneath this facade of self-control, which he upholds quite well to the public eye, hides his obvious alcoholism issues.

While he may not be stumbling and blubbering around, picking fights,— in most instances at least— Vox is certainly what you might call a “day drinker."

In fact, this is actually a canonical trait, which was displayed in episode two of the show; Him discussing with others Vees on how to deal with the radio demon’s comeback, a drink in hand.

I presume thatit was a scotch on the rocks due to it’s colour but also it’s historical relevance in relation to Vox’s person— Scotch whisky poured over ice, gained popularity in the 1950s primarily in Western countries such as the United States, the United Kingdom, and Canada.

It became a symbol of sophistication and leisure, often enjoyed in upscale bars, clubs, and lounges frequented by the affluent and fashionable crowd of the era.

Additionally, its popularity was bolstered by the rise of cocktail culture during the mid-20th century, as well as the increasing availability of Scotch whisky in international markets. — this fits quite nicely Vox’s character as it is both a drink of his time on earth but also one that remains relevant in the contemporary era.

It easily mirrors Vox's overarching desire to maintain relevance and significance, both in the present and in the ever-evolving future.

The overlord definitely adhere to ‘it’s five o’clock somewhere’ religiously. Though he does prefer to enjoy his daily drink around 5 p.m. PRT (Pride Ring Time).

He will occasionally enjoys a drink with his lunch, often opting for wine, although this isn't a regular occurrence for the man.

As someone constantly under stress, with his mind racing to keep up with the ever-changing trends and opinions in hell, Vox is a type to indulge in a nightcap or two before bed.

It helps him unwind and achieve the relaxed state of mind necessary for a restful night's sleep.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Sleep

While the notion of ‘Vox's dreams playing on his screen while he's asleep’ is an amusing concept for fanfiction or artwork, I personally find the idea of ‘the VoxTek logo bouncing around like the DVD logo’ to be more fitting for Vox.

Before delving further, it's important to note that initially, it wasn't necessarily the VoxTek logo projected on his screen; however, I'll address this shortly.

The reason I lean towards the DVD logo concept is because I find it unlikely that Vox's screen would be completely black during sleep. A completely dark screen would imply the device is completely off, no energy is being received or given by it, which would suggest that it is no longer alive. Having some activity on Vox’s screen while asleep would signify that his program is still active, indicating he's still functioning, essentially alive.

Now regarding the widely shared headcanon, I have my own personal take on it.

When Vox first manifested in hell, his 'real name' appeared on screen. By 'real name,' I mean the one he had on Earth, which I believe wasn't Vox —That name seems too futuristic for a person born in the early 1900s or the kind of name you'd associate with a 1950s businessman— Vox is a name he chose for himself after death, symbolizing a fresh start, though I do think that his real name might also have started with a V.

(This perspective extends to other 'Vees' as well, although Velvette seems more plausible as a given name, I suspect it might not be her original one. Valentino, on the other hand, feels like a name assigned to him, but he too might have adopted a new one after death.)

Initially, Vox was unaware of his old name appearing on his screen while he slept since he wasn't conscious during that time. It wasn't until about half a year into his time in hell, during which he introduced himself as Vox to everyone, that one of his acquaintances pointed out this aspect of his physiology. Something along the lines of "Who's V———?" or "Why does V——— show on your screen while you sleep?" triggered a cascade of reactions in him.

Firstly, he panicked, realizing that people had access to his old identity. Secondly, he was puzzled by this phenomenon since no TV he had encountered displayed such behavior, which was normal considering DVDs weren't invented before 1996. — Hell sure was weird, he possessed technological features as part of his physiology before they were even invented— Lastly, this revelation instilled in him a new fear of sleeping.

This behavior stemmed from Vox's desire to construct a fresh existence in hell, complete with a new identity, image, empire, etc. The thought of others accessing his old name and exploiting it to uncover details about his past, including his behaviors, weaknesses, and tactics, filled him with dread.

As a result, he became hyper-vigilant, refusing to sleep unless he was certain of his solitude, fearing the potential repercussions of his former identity being known.

It wasn't until the mid 1960s that Vox had finally managed to upgrade his system, replacing ‘V———‘ with 'Vox'. However, even after this upgrade, he still harboured reservations about sleeping around others for about a year or two. He feared a potential glitch that could revert his screen to displaying his previous name.

Around the late 1970s he had made an adjustment to this aspect of his body once more, replacing 'Vox' with the VoxTek logo after a certain moth had suggested it.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sexuality

Our beloved Tv Demon a canonical bisexual man, but I personally believe that while he may have bisexuality as his sexual orientation, — his attraction to men was something he only came to realize after death. Although there were subtle hints of his attraction to the same gender based on how he felt about them, he unfortunately didn't grasp them while still alive;

It would have been the late 1950s, and Vox had been in hell for about a year or two. In his earthly life, he had been with his fair share of women, and even in the "surprisingly not so fiery pits of the underworld," his ability to attract partners hadn't diminished much once got over his TV head appearance and let place for his charming and savvy persona to take over.

His love life seemed unchanged, perhaps with occasional exploration of new kinks, until that fateful night of October 11, 195X...

Vox had gone out for a drink after a grueling day at work, back when he was still toiling away at a low-paying job in an electronics factory, toasters, vacuum, etc. Despite the shitty work he had to go through, he had the perk of taking home broken scraps, which eventually played a role in his rise to success. But let's refocus on his night out, shall we?

He walked into his newfound favorite spot, a comedy bar where he sought solace in laughter and libations after a hard day. Arriving just as the performer began their set, he headed straight to the bar for his usual whiskey on the rocks, with nothing else on his mind. It wasn't until the comedian delivered a particularly hilarious joke that Vox turned to look at them and found his attraction piqued.

It was evident that they were a man with the specific style flashy outfit and makeup they wore. The voice was also a dead giveaway. The person now standing on stage, delivering one funny punchline after another, was a drag queen – a stunning one in Vox's eyes.

He couldn't tear his gaze away; there was something irresistibly captivating about the humorous individual on stage.

After the performance, as they made their way to the bar, Vox seized the opportunity. He introduced himself, and they exchanged pleasantries. They shared drinks and engaged in lively conversation, making for a truly enjoyable night that ended with a bang, quite literally.

In the morning, as clarity returned, Vox couldn't help but feel confused. He had never been attracted to men before, so he initially chalked it up to the alcohol or the fact that his night companion appeared so feminine that he mistook them for a woman.

However, as memories of the night flooded back, he couldn't deny his genuine attraction to every aspect of his partner, even the unmistakably male parts.

Initially, it felt strange to Vox as he reflected on the experience. However, after hours of deep contemplation, everything started to fall into place.

Vox realized he had always felt an affinity towards men, though expressing it as "liking men" might have appeared odd to outsiders. When he used that phrase, it wasn't in the context of sexual or romantic attraction but more of an admiration.

Yet, upon further reflection, he acknowledged that his feelings surpassed mere admiration.

He had never entertained the idea of it being anything akin to sexual or romantic attraction, but his recent encounter forced him to reconsider as he contemplated his life and the events of the previous night.

Vox liked men;

— Vox had always been drawn to the men of his time who exuded masculine confidence and assertiveness, finding their presence alluring and desiring to be in their company constantly.

He liked when they wore classic masculine fashion, such as tailored suits with narrow lapels, fitted jackets, and straight-leg trousers. These outfits oozed sophistication and professionalism, and Vox admired the attention to detail displayed.

Additionally, he liked when men would add classic accessories like fedora hats, skinny ties, cufflinks, and pocket squares to their outfit, they added to the polished and stylish appearance.

The preppy style also appealed to Vox, as he admired men who wore V-neck sweaters, button-down shirts, khaki trousers, and loafers. This style exuded a sense of casual elegance and refinement that he found attractive.

He also had a penchant for rebellious men who embraced a non-conformist aesthetic, often seen in leather jackets, denim jeans, white T-shirts, and motorcycle boots.

Vox liked when men were smart and witty, could keep up with the conversation and also teach something along the way.

Vox liked men who exuded strength and athleticism, finding their ability to handle themselves physically appealing. For instance, witnessing a fistfight between coworkers would stir his emotions, initially attributing his excitement to the violence of the altercation.

However, he would inevitably find himself gravitating towards the winner, intrigued by their display of strength and skill, and feeling drawn to them in some inexplicable way. There was something about winners that captivated him and sparked his desire to get closer to them.

He like men who were daring, adventurous, and unafraid to push boundaries, they appealed to his sense of excitement and thrill-seeking.

He liked men who were ambitious, goal-oriented, and willing to pursue their dreams with determination might have resonated with Vox on a subconscious level.—

After his one-night stand, Vox was determined to clarify things once and for all. Following another grueling day of work, he ventured out again, this time to a gay bar, seeking the company of someone who embodied the traits he found most appealing in men, wanting to ensure it wasn't just the alcohol or the femininity of his previous partner. Without delving into detail, let's just say he had quite the night and afterward, there was no doubt in his mind: ‘he liked women, and he definitely also liked men.’

Following that experience, Vox began seeing more individuals of the same gender. However, he still held onto the notion that while he might be attracted to men, he didn't believe he would be interested in them as anything more than sexual partners. That was until he met Alastor...

Initially, Vox approached the radio demon seeking friendship or perhaps a partnership, given Vox's burgeoning company and rising status as an overlord. However, he soon found himself enamored with Alastor. Unfortunately for Vox, his feelings were not reciprocated. After that, Alastor distanced himself from Vox, leading our TV host to regard his old love as an enemy.

In response to the rejection, Vox decided to cease seeing men altogether, engaging in a series of short-term relationships with women. However, he soon realized he was simply idealizing Alastor and shifted his focus from woman to men for meaningless relationships, attempting to prove to himself that any other man was better than "that Bambi bitch."

But this approach only intensified the emptiness he felt. Recognizing the detrimental effects of his frantic behavior on himself and his company, Vox resolved to regulate and get back on a more business focused path.

The fact that rumours began circulating about his supposed "homoerotic relationships," was also a big push into getting back on track, as a word like that getting out was detrimental to business, since being gay was still stigmatized even in hell, during this time period.

It was around the late 1970s, with the rise of gay rights activism, that Vox began publicly dating men. Coincidentally, this was also when he met and began his business partnership (and more) with Valentino.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Names

Vox has a penchant for using endearing or patronizing nicknames, regardless of the gender of his employees. He will refer to them as "sweetheart," "doll face," or simply "doll."

In moments of frustration or when faced with resistance, he's not shy about using terms like "little girl" or "little boy," or even "kid," to belittle those who question him.

Additionally, he might employ terms like "Princess" or "your highness" as forms of condescension, no matter the gender of the person he is addressing.

NSFW

𓊔 Party

Despite Vox's obsession with his and the Vees' image, when it comes to partying, he becomes a total animal — I’m talking ‘The Wolf of Wall Street’ type of wild.

Lavish gatherings marked by obscene spending and excessive drug intake, especially cocaine.

Vox typically indulged in doing lines off his desk or the luxurious crystal table in the lounge. However, what truly exited him was snorting lines off someone, getting his rocks off at their inability to refuse his advances and delighting in the control he exerted as he pinned them down to prevent any squirming.

The slight anxious tears and nervous mewls from whoever served as his snorting surface always stirred something within Vox. While he would grow irritated if they moved too much, the subtle signs of fear, such as the wetting of their eyes and trembling breath, would quickly reignite his unstable emotions. He found himself intensely aroused by their scared state, and more than once, he acted on these desires…

Drabble:

You were a VoxTek employee, more specifically; Vox’s secretary.

As Vox's secretary, navigating Alastor-related tantrums and enduring the grueling hours could be incredibly taxing, but the job itself had its perks.

Thanks to your position in the company, you enjoyed luxurious accommodations in the finest suites the V Tower had to offer.

Despite the challenges, Vox could be surprisingly pleasant, his charismatic charm reminiscent of his earlier days when his hypnosis wasn't as potent. And beneath the unconventional exterior of his TV head, there was no denying the appeal of his well-built physique.

Given the close proximity and constant interaction with Vox, it was inevitable to develop a small crush on your boss. His magnetic presence and the fact he was practically the only person you interacted with regularly since he requested you to work closer to him about three months ago only fueled this infatuation.

You liked your boss, but at this moment, you couldn't stand him;

It was 3 a.m. on a Sunday, the one day of the week you were supposed to have some semblance of off-time, with the luxury of sleeping in until noon.

But instead of enjoying your well-deserved rest in bed, you found yourself reluctantly entering the elevator, begrudgingly making your way to the usually closed-off top floor of the building.

Why? Because you had received a threatening and slightly slurry phone call from your boss, demanding your immediate presence or else face termination.

With your livelihood seemingly hanging in the balance, you complied without questioning, even though you loathed every second of it.

After punching in the code provided, you entered the lounge area of the top floor to find all three Vees lounging about. Valentino was enveloped in smoke, while music filled the air.

"Y/N! So glad you made it! Come 'ere," Vox exclaimed, his gestures frantic, urging you to approach quickly. He appeared laid-back, friendly, and strangely excited, a stark contrast to his usual demeanor of coldness and condescension.

Confusion clouded your expression as you approached the couch, unsure of what to make of Vox's sudden change in behavior. Velvette, noticing your bewilderment, chimed in with an explanation. "He took some MDMA before he called you — actually, he couldn't stop blabbing about your ass once that stuff kicked in," she divulged matter-of-factly, adding another layer of peculiarity to the already bizarre situation.

‘Ah, he’s high — that explains the weird friendliness.’ You thought to yourself.

But before you could dwell on it too long, Valentino's words snapped you out of your thoughts, "Yes, little Voxxy over there couldn't stop talking about how much he wanted his little secretary with him right here. He just had to call you, despite it being the middle of the night. I'm sorry you're losing your beauty sleep right now, cariño," he said, his tone tinged with insincerity from false remorse. A small chuckle escaped his lips as he finished speaking, adding to the surreal atmosphere of the moment.

“Val, Vel! You can’t tell them that! Or they’ll, they’ll… fuck!” Vox began to say, but something mid-sentence seemed to frustrate him.

Before you could question it for too long, Valentino answered that question for you. “They’ll figure out you have a little crush on them. Aww, don’t worry papi, it’s not like they can say no to you either way,” the moth darkly announced, frightening you, as it was technically true that you had to obey whatever order your boss gave you; it was in your contract after all.

To your somewhat relief, Vox scoffed at his part-time boyfriend's comment, as if to convey that he wouldn't behave in such a manner.

"Shut the fuck, Val!" Vox began, his frustration evident, before redirecting his attention back to you. "And you, lay down on the table." Confused by the request, you briefly wondered if he was joking, but the seriousness etched on his face made it clear that he wasn't. Resigned, you followed his instruction and laid down on the table as he commanded.

As soon as you complied, a smile spread across Vox's face. "Good, good. Now be a good little secretary and stay still as I do some lines off you, m'kay?" he instructed.

Before you could process anything or say something, he pushed your shirt all the way up, ending just under your chest, and tugged your bottoms down slightly — exposing your whole stomach.

Attempting to voice your discomfort, you were promptly shushed by Vox. "Shhh, you're being a table for me right now, and last time I checked, tables don't talk, now do they, sweetheart? So be a doll and shut up," he said, eliciting laughter from the two other Vees.

You complied with his instructions and remained silent as you felt him pour some powder onto your abdomen. Knowing the drugs he usually made you order on his behalf, it was probably coke.

With that, he quickly formed about three lines and began snorting them. The sensation felt odd and somewhat ticklish to you, but what you didn't expect was for him to lick the parts of your belly where the powder had just sat — long lines that started from top to bottom, causing you to squirm involuntarily.

Vox didn't appreciate your movement, because ‘how dare his table move?’. In response, he firmly gripped your waist on both sides and forcefully slammed your hips against the table as a warning to ‘stop moving’.

However, his claws dug into your skin, causing you to cry out slightly. Upon seeing the small tears in your eyes, his mood shifted once more, from aggravation to something more lustful.

He relished the sight of you with tears in your eyes, so he decided to inflict a bit more pain. With a predatory glint in his eyes, he bit at your sides, knowing that you couldn't retaliate due to the hierarchical difference between you.

His bites started from the top, gradually getting lower until they ended up just above your crotch. With a slight, heavy breathing, he remarked, "Now what do we have here? A snack for me? You shouldn't have." As he removed your bottoms, leaving you in your underwear, a slight moist patch formed due to the position you were in.

Sure, Vox was an entitled asshole, but god, did he look and sound incredible when he was being mean and bossy. How could you not get aroused, especially when his face and long tongue ass were so close to your intimate parts.

"You want me to play with you, darling?" Vox asked in a manner that almost made it feel like you had a choice. There was something about it that suggested he might respect your decision if you said no—sure, he wouldn't like it, but he definitely had this thing where he wanted you to want him, to beg for him, to need him. Forcing himself on you wouldn't align with that desire.

You nodded, but he tutted at you, wanting a verbal answer. "No, no, no, it's 'Could you please, sir?' or 'Would love to, Mr. Vox,' or 'Please, I need you, Vox.' You've got to speak up if you want me to do anything to you, got it, dollface?" he clarified, emphasizing the importance of explicit consent, whether it was due to genuine respect for your boundaries or just his enjoyment of your yearning for him, it was a bit unclear. However, knowing Vox, he probably just got off on your embarrassment.

"Yes, sir," you said, feeling embarrassed. "So? Do you want me to give some love to these," he asked, tracing the outline of your underwear, "lovely parts?" He perked up.

"I would love for you to, sir," you managed to speak out. With a 'perfect' from your boss, he was now eagerly devouring you with his tongue, sending small pleasurable shocks through you as he did. No part of you down there was left un-licked.

Just as you were about to reach that sweet, sweet release — Vox removed himself from you, causing you to whine at the loss of pleasure.

"Don't worry," he said, but before you could complain too much, Vox lifted you up and threw you onto the couch, your face soon hitting the satin pillows. As you heard the sound of his belt unbuckling, you felt your hips being repositioned, leaving you face down and ass up.

Vox quickly pumped his cock a few times, not needing much as it was already hard from the sight of you writhing due to his tongue. Getting close to your ear, he whispered, "Cuz I'm not done with you, dollface."

Then he promptly shoved himself inside of you. Thankfully, whatever he was doing with his tongue a couple of instances ago had prepped you, because, woof, did the stretch sting.

After giving you a few moments to adjust, he began pounding you into tomorrow, playing with your front and sending small shocks here and there. With no regard for his colleagues sitting right beside him —or should I say colleague, as in singular—Velvette had left as soon as he began working you with his tongue. However, Valentino remained, watching the scene unfold with keen interest.

Your soon came undone due to his rough ministrations, but he was far from done with you...

⫘⫘⫘ Ownership, ⛌⛌⛌ Humiliation & Collar

If you haven't already figured it out yet, Vox is a sadist. He thoroughly enjoys power dynamics and the act of humiliating others.

Continuing from the previous headcanon, picture yourself as either hired as his secretary or as a low-ranking demon in his company who catches his eye. If you're the latter, he'll undoubtedly arrange for you to be transferred to work closer to him.

But anyway, my point is, as soon as you're in his close proximity, he'll literally makes you his bitch on call in the blink of an eye. And obviously, you can't refuse because, one, he's your boss; two, he's an overlord; and three, he's Vox.

Who would refuse that hunk? Even if you weren't initially attracted to him, you'd find yourself becoming so after a couple of weeks, even if it's just some weird mild attraction—you're still into him.

Once he's got you in his grasp and has fucked you at least once, this is when he begins to play with you. He'll make you start wearing a vibrator under your clothes at work, ordering you to remove your clothing every morning and show him, to ensure you did it. Then he'd send you on your merry way.

If he wasn't physically with you, he'd be watching you through his cameras.

And every time you would be talking to someone and he deemed it too long, you weren't paying attention to him, or you were zoning out/getting distracted, he would turn the vibrator on to 'get you back on track'.

Though he did like to sometimes turn the vibrator on just to tease you. For example, you're in the middle of telling him about a shift in his appointment in a room full of people, and he would suddenly turn it on to fuck with you.

He also has a huge thing for pulling you by your soul chain. He just loves, loves, loves summoning it out of nowhere and just tugging you along with it.

For instance, you could be telling him about some issue concerning a recent project, and he would tell you to come closer so he could hear better.

As you walk closer towards his desk, he deems your pace too slow. Without warning, he summons and tugs at the chain around your neck, causing you to fall to the ground.

In an attempt to brace the fall, you put your arms out, catching yourself and ending up on all fours.

But as you try to get up, he would tut at you, ordering you to “Crawl to me.” You’re humiliated, but you still do it as he watches you like a hawk, a satisfied grin on his face.

If you also happen to scrape or bruise yourself when you fell and some small tears form in your eyes, let me tell you, he would get so bricked up as soon as he noticed them.

And of course, he would make you blow him, though it would end up with him face-fucking you, as it usually did.

He would also hold your head down as he dumped his cum down your throat, then he would pull your nose with his free hand, saying that “you don’t get to breathe until you’ve swallowed it all.” And of course, you would do it because you don’t want to literally choke to death on your boss’s dick.

Once he was sure you had swallowed it all, he would finally release you, allowing you to take some air in. Then he would make you stick out your tongue, and he would spit in your mouth, making you swallow that too.

𐂯 Training

He liked using small electrical charges as a ‘training method’, and this method has two stages. This would happen after he already had you as his personal toy— I mean, ‘secretary’.

At first, he uses electricity to reprimand you whenever you weren’t paying attention to him, questioned him, said no to things, or did anything that he considered as bad behaviour.

He would shock you, making you associate ‘bad behavior’ with pain, so you would end up automatically correct yourself before you even do or say something.

If you take a bit too long to ‘adjust’ to this new way of acting, he might resort to a little bit of hypnosis, but he would prefer not to.

He gets off on the fact that he can train you to behave just with his words and actions, without the help of any special ability.

Anyways, when he is sure that he has drilled into you what proper behavior is, he’ll employ phase two. He’ll start training you to enjoy the sting of his electricity.

So, whether he's fucking you, giving you head, touching you, or basically providing any sort of pleasure, every time you would be close to reaching your peak, he would send jolts of electricity through you, gradually increasing the dosage over time.

Things would get to the point that a small shock from him would be enough to get you turned on, and bigger shocks would be able to literally make you cum.

ฅ Pet

For the most part, he wouldn’t see secretary!reader as a partner. It’s only after a while, like a year or more, that he would start considering it.

He views them as his romantic interests, but not on his level. To keep face with the other Vees, even though they both knew about his crush from the beginning because he was so obvious with it, he would call you his pet.

Sometimes literal ‘pet names’ like puppy, kitty, bunny, etc. (Personally, I would love for him to call him his bunny <3.)

What he calls you all depends on your appearance and behaviors. For example, if you manifested with a more feline appearance, he would call you his kitten or kitty. If you didn’t have animal-like features but for example, were very needy, had a tendency to follow around, and were a sucker for praise, he would likely call you his puppy.

𓌏 Punishments

Besides using electric shocks, he is definitely into spanking as a form of punishment—whether it involves pulling down your pants or lifting your skirt, spanking you for every ‘transgression’ you’ve committed is something he’s totally down for.

It can be a really strange experience if you weren't a masochist to begin with because he'll end up having you conditioned to enjoy physical punishments;

For example, he would be spanking you, and you find yourself getting turned on, arousal literally leaking due to his rough treatment of your behind.

Edging and overstimulation are also big in his book, though each has its own set of circumstances where they would be implemented.

For instance, if you weren't paying attention to him because of someone else, he would overstimulate you to the point where you couldn't think about anyone but him, asserting his superiority over whoever had your attention.

If you weren't paying attention for any other reason, he would edge you, because ‘how dare you ignore him when he should be the most important to you!’.

Thanks anons for requesting!

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Youngest Shadow- Chapter One, Two Sisters, Dad

One | two | three | four | five | six |

I was never a people person, not wanting to rely on someone.

Especially family, I didn’t need help.

I am not vulnerable, I couldn’t be. I saw how it affected people on a daily. High schoolers in relationships getting dumped, cheated on, having to many dramas in between them.

It was unnecessary.

I had my small circle and most of them were blood related to me.

My mom, my sister, Bella, and my father who lived across the country.

Oh, and my best friend. But practically family.

I’m content in my lifestyle too. I didn’t need pity from anyone. Either way that’s what I get from everyone. Even my older sister who tried to act like she understands.

My life was consistent. Making sure my mom was happy, helping my sister from losing her mind because of mom needing so much adventure. Other than doing that I played sports, practicing everyday.

Trying my best, not to be the best but to keep up my adrenaline. Running helps the most.

Adrenaline kept me alive, if I could jump off an airplane I would. I would do every crazy thing imaginable just because of the adrenaline that came with it.

Even little things can entice me. My piercings, having to make them a secret from coaches to play sports. Riding my motorcycle anytime was the best feeling after getting it.

I snuck out a few times, not even to do crazy things but to just say I did it.

You would think living in Arizona helped me with keeping my adrenaline up but you’d be wrong. It’s the same thing everyday now. I know what’s around.

And the heat, don’t get me started.

As much as I love my mom, I wanted to be in a forest hiking, see a fucking wild animal that could attack me. Jump off cliffs for the hell of it. Ride my motorcycle on different roads.

Seeing my dad, maybe join him in action. Hunt with him even.

Speaking of which, I stood beside Bella, my older sister by 10 months. She had just said goodbye to some “friends” who seemed like they could care less that she was leaving.

I turn to see our mom walking out of the house, so much energy balled into one person. She had hints of sadness and anxiety pulled on her face, trying to hide it with being happy for us.

She thrusts a phone into the hands of my sister, “It won’t work again, baby.” She frowned, her face always looked like it moved with every feeling she had. Never being able to hide how she felt. “You put it on hold.” Bella points out, the tiniest bit amused.

“I did?”

I smirk, trying to stop myself from laughing.

As much as it is funny it is worrisome, how will we reach her if she doesn’t even know how to work a phone.

“Look, you also called Mexico.” Renée pushes Bella, nudging me as well as the three of us laugh.

“I’ll figure it out. You gotta be able to reach me and Phil on the road.” She exclaims right before she gets excited. “I love saying that,” she grins, “On the road.”

“Very romantic,”

“Very.”

Bella and I both say, silently glancing at each other.

Phil comes up behind our mom, “If you call crappy motels, back water towns and ballpark hot dogs romantic.” He jokes, well partially since he was serious.

He places a Phoenix Desert Dogs baseball hat on Renées head, along with kisses her.

Looking at them partly soothes my nerves about leaving mom. I’m sure Bella feels the same since we practically took care of her for so long. Even though it should’ve been the other way around.

Phil walks away, to finish packing the car with our things. Renée grabs a hold of both of our arms, clinging to us as we walk to the vehicles.

I’m driving my motorcycle, mom wanted to get a trailer for it since it’s a really long drive but I convinced her not to. I couldn’t sit in a car with them for that long.

Plus I have a feeling Charlie is going to force me to anyway.

“Now you know if you two change your minds, I’ll race back here from wherever the game is.” Her face strained trying to hide how even though it would be a sacrifice she would still do it for us.

“You don’t have to worry.” I force a smile, Bella doing the same.

“We won’t change our minds mom.”

“You might, Bella. You’ve always hated Forks.” That’s true, I usually visited more than her. I had a closer relationship to dad, due to my interest of hunting like him.

“It’s not about Forks, it’s about dad. I mean unlike [Name], I went two weeks a year. We barely know each other.” She explains but I think it just worsened our moms worried expression. “Mom, I’m fine. I want to go. I got [Name] there with me.” She looked between us, hugging her eldest, whose face drops once she knew her mom couldn’t see it. It was full of dread and doubt. I also noticed the regret but kept quiet when she wants to bring it up she will.

They let go and Bella climbs into the car, moms attention going to me.

“I want you behind us at all times, you do not pass this vehicle. And no swerving.” She furrows her eyebrows, staring at me. “And don’t be stupid.” I add with a smirk, she rolls her eyes in a humorous way.

“I just want my baby girl safe.” She pouts, pulling me into a tight hug. “You don’t have to worry with me.” I miss her cheek, pushing out of the hug as I knew it would’ve been longer if I didn’t.

“Alright helmet and jacket and let’s go!” She pats my butt, reaching over and getting my helmet to give it to me. She gets into the van and I adjust my wired earbuds so one goes into my ear, stuffing the rest into my jacket and zipping it up.

I pull my helmet on and I press play on my iPod.

Getting to Washington State was a breath of fresh air, not only for my tired hand but the change of view and weather. My sister called it gloomy, never paying attention to the beauty of it all.

Dad surprisingly let me continue driving my bike, it was bittersweet for me. Really it was because he forgot the trailer. I kind of wish he did bring it because slouching like this for hours is not exactly fun. My back will be aching for weeks.

I’m just glad I didn’t have to sit in the awkward atmosphere of them two in that cruiser.

We passed a sign that said “The City Of Forms Welcomes You. Population 3246.”

I smile to myself.

Passing all of the familiar buildings I was missing felt amazing.

We pulled into Charlie’s driveway, I take my helmet off, sitting up straight for the first time in a few hours. Charlie comes over and messes with my hair as I climbed to his torso like a little kid. We laugh and he hugs me back.

I was the first to get into the house, putting my things right in my room. Really throwing them on the ground and rushing back out to see if Bella needs any help. My room was the only one downstairs. Dad had to make add it onto the house when they found out they were having me surprisingly.

I was truly the accident out of the two. Only three months after Bella was born was when I came around.

“I put Grandpas desk in your room. And I cleaned some shelves in the bathroom for you two.” He was mainly speaking to Bella. I watched her grimace. “That’s right, one bathroom.”

I followed her eyes around the house, going straight to a picture of our parents when they were younger and in love. “I’ll put these up in your room.” Charlie motions to her bags.

“I can’t do it.”

I silently stand there as they both reach for the bags, awkwardly bumping into each other causing me to cringe at the scene.

She backs off, letting him do it anyway. Which she should’ve done in the beginning. And I wouldn’t have seen that go down.

After that… experience, I followed my dad to the living room. “That was, nice.” He pauses for a minute before sighing. I place a hand on his shoulder. “It’ll get better. This is just new for both of you.” I smile sweetly and he nods, swinging an arm around my shoulders. But internally I’m just hoping I’m right. It’s going to be a long two years if I’m wrong. “What would I do without you?” He nudges me.

He lets go of me, telling me about how Billy and Jacob should be here soon to drop off surprises they’ve been working on. The one for Bella I knew about.

And right after it was spoken into the air we heard a honk outside.

I stand up straighter and run outside. A boy my age hops out of the red truck, rushing to give me a hug. “Jacob!” I laugh, this was the best friend I was talking about. My absolute best friend.

“Bella, you remember Billy Black.” Charlie speaks up, obviously Bella came outside after hearing the honk as well.

I let go of Jacob, “Glad you two are finally here. Charlie hasn’t shut up about it since you two told him y’all were coming.” He teases our dad, both Jacob and I snicker at the two who have always acted like this.

“Keep exaggerating, I’ll wheel you down the hill.” He tells the man who’s in a wheelchair.

“Right after I ram you in the ankles.” Billy goes after Charlie who dodges. Jacob shakes his head, I take him up to Bella. Poking him to say something.

“I’m Jacob, we made mud pies together when we were little kids.” He exclaims, she squints almost unnoticeably. “Yeah I think I remember.”

“Are they always like this?” She points to the two dads. “It’s getting worse with age.” He jokes.

Jacob always had a crush on Bella, so it was cute watching him finally be able to interact with her and not be a nervous little kid.

Cutting us out of our small silence Charlie pats the hood of the truck. We didn’t even notice they stopped messing around. “So what do you think of your homecoming gift?” He grins proudly. I watched my sisters face contort to confusion to happiness. “No way. The truck is for me?” Turning my focus to my dad who was soaking in her excitement. “Just bought it off Billy here.”

“I rebuilt the engine.” Jacob adds in.

“It’s perfect.” Her smile grew bigger, and more genuine. It was great to see her eager and happy about something. Her and Jacob rush to the truck so he could explain everything to her.

My dad snuck up to me, handing a small box. I look up at him confused. “Open it.” He motions. I stare at it for a minute, glancing over to Billy who puts his hands up as to say he knew as much as I did.

I bit my lip, opening the box carefully.

It had a locket inside, the same locket I would stare at in the window of an abandoned antique store that no one would clean out. The place I begged my dad to go into just to get me that necklace.

“The place finally got cleaned out and I just happened to be on patrol before they got rid of it.” He tells me.

“It doesn’t have a picture in it yet but I thought you could pick one you’d like.” I threw my arms around him, “it’s beautiful.” I pulled away to look at it in my hands again as it was a delicate flower.

[peachesofteal]

Dead Disco / Chapter 7

Dead Disco masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 3.2k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ Minors DNI. Brief suggestive content. Angst, anxiety, self loathing, relationship issues. Darling is her own tag/warning. Panic attack, eating related issues, fainting. Emotional hurt/comfort, fluff. Established throuple. It's better when they're here.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

Kyle grins in response, and then pulls you in for a hug. His face is full mirth, his cheer warming you from the inside, and you embrace him in return. 

“’bout time they bring you out here. No reason to hide you away all this time.” Something nervous, a light giggle, slips out from between your lips, your eyes rolling in an exaggerated fashion. Johnny's hand flexes against the base of your spine. 

“Gaz.” Simon sighs, and he barks out a laugh before turning back to you. 

“Try not to let these two bore ya to death.” He whispers, before giving them both a nod and ducking down the hall. He makes absolutely no noise, feet silent against the floor, practically disappearing before your eyes, shadow here then gone, presence felt, and then void, all at once.

“He’s nice.” You look up at the two of them. Johnny chuckles, amusement scrawling across his lips and cheeks as he wraps his arm around your waist. 

“Don’t let him fool ye.” He quips and you frown, confused.

“Gaz is… very, very good at his job. One of the best there is, I’d say.” Simon explains gently, and then your stomach sours, because you remember.

What they do. What their jobs are. Why you’re even here in the first place. You’ve never asked for in-depth detail or explanations, but you’ve heard enough, know enough, to know.

He turns the lock and pushes their door open, giving you a view into their room, a short hall that expands out to something that looks like a college dorm, except maybe a bit bigger. It’s got all the similarities though, cinderblocks and an old, tiled floor, singular window and a bit of an odd smell.

“So, this is your room?”

“Aye. We’ve got a big bed, mostly thanks to Si, and a little more space than everyone else on this floor but, this is it.” It’s sparse too, no pictures or personal items, nothing that looks like or resembles them except…

There’s a bulletin board, hanging on the wall above the bed. It’s empty, save for one thing, a photo that’s been stapled to the cork.

It’s of you, this photo, you under a white sheet, smiling at Simon, who’s behind the camera, with just the shadow of Johnny’s hand along your upper arm. It was taken last year, you can tell, because you recognize the style of your hair from that time, and you stand there for too long, staring at it, mouth partially hanging open, breath held in your lungs.

Nothing in this room that reflects them, or their home, or each other… nothing. Except for a photo of you. 

“Darling?” Simon murmurs, and his chest presses against your back, thumb and forefinger stroking along the back of your neck. “You alright?”

“Y-yeah. I… I’m alright.”

“So, like… what is that you guys do?” The question lands to a silent reception, both of them exchanging looks in front of you, almost like you’re not even in the room. You feel awkward, and self-conscious, while they seem to have a silent debate with their eyes.

“We’re in multi-national special ops unit.” Johnny provides, and your eyebrows crease as you process. A what? A multi-national what? You laugh, until you realize their faces are deadly serious.

Wait. Are these guys in the fucking military? 

“Special ops, like… the military special ops?”

“Kind of.”

Oh. 

Fuck. Your cheeks feel hot, and you’re not sure if it’s because of the alcohol or the topic you’ve stumbled upon, but you swallow loudly as you process it. 

You’re not exactly a huge fan of the military. Not like you really know anything about it, just that most of the wars your own country has been involved in for the last twenty years revolve around oil and imperialism, and all the dudes who serve are abusive and predatory. Assholes. Creeps. 

Or at least, that’s what it’s like where you’re from. 

“She didn’t like that.” Simon murmurs from behind the mask, and Johnny grimaces. 

“Alright?” He hums and a small noise gets stuck in your throat, like you want to say yes, want to say no, like you’re not sure what you want. “We travel a lot, for work. So, we’re not always around… that’s where we’ve been the last few weeks. Working.” The words make your heart skip a beat, and you nod, still processing.

Not always around… not always around. 

So they really aren’t planning on making this a thing, then. The thought stings with bitterness against your tongue, and you shove it away. 

 When you don’t say anything in response, Johnny sighs, and reaches for your hand, fingers curled against your palm in your lap. “How did we get on this subject anyway? We’re supposed to be havin’ some fun.” He smiles, big and warm, sending butterflies spiraling through your stomach and up your spine. 

Simon’s gaze never strays from your face, and his brow furrows, like he’s reading you, or piecing you together. The scrutiny makes you shiver. 

Why are you worrying about it? This is only like the third time seeing them, anyway. You’re getting too attached. You’re getting ahead of yourself. You’re just having fun. That’s all it is. 

“Right.” You quip, and then pull your drink towards you before rising from the chair. Your skirt is short, and you realize it’s probably too short when you see Simon’s jaw grinding behind the mask as you turn your body, edge of the fabric brushing against the back of your thighs. His gaze is heavy, it’s hot, and you remember the image of him looking up from between your legs the other night, lower half of his face buried in your cunt, still hidden from view without the scrap of fabric. “So… should we get another round then?” You hold your empty drink, ice clinking against the glass, and Johnny chuckles before standing in front of you, a hand on covetously laying on your waist as his lips brush your cheek. 

“’ll get them, love. You sit.”  

The bed is very, very warm. You don’t even need the duvet and sheet that you have pulled around your shoulders, your hips, but you snuggle down into them farther, breathing in the scent of Johnny’s shampoo, of Simon’s skin.

It all whirs around you in some soft, soothing scented lullaby, and you allow yourself the indulgence, closing your eyes again even though you’ve only just woken from the nap that you slipped into when they left for a meeting.

You’ve managed to trap their body heat beneath the blankets, and you wiggle around until you’re facing the other side, staring at the bulletin board, your own face frozen in time staring back at you.

You look different. You look like you’re in a haze of contented bliss, a peaceful state of happiness, safe and secure, tucked between the two of them without a care in the world.

Why did it change? Who changed it? When? How? 

The questions echo as you piece through the last few months in your mind, trying to place where the original seeds of darkness sprouted from, to find where the murky thoughts and feelings really came from, their roots, their birth.

This process, this seeking, makes your hands shake against the sheets. It makes your legs twitch, feet rubbing against each other while your chest tightens. Dread, panic, shame, all twist and turn through your mind, pinpointing your weaknesses and failures, exposing you to yourself like the fool you are.

They’re trying. Are you? 

You don’t need the answers, not truly. You know where the blame lies. You know what happened. You know the part you played; you know the parts the guys played.

You stare at the wall and try to count the patterns in the concrete, willing your brain to focus, willing yourself to pull up, pull out, put your head on straight. The sound of blood rushing in your ears is deafening, loud enough that you think someone may hear it down the hall. May hear you, succumbing to yourself.

It feels like drowning.

They could pull you out. Simon could fix it. They could make it better. 

But would they? Could he, now? When nothing is the same? 

The memory from leaving the hotel ripples across your heart like a familiar melody, acid burning in your calves as you blink and shudder.

Simon, holding your nape, Johnny, holding you to him in the elevator, in the car.

“Stay with us darling. Stay here. With us.”

You wonder if it will ever be the same again.

You hate this one as much as the last. 

Your mouth pulls into a frown, hands resting on your hips as you stare at the canvas in front of you, rotating your head from left to right, like that will make you see it better. Like that will bring it into focus. 

The colors are wrong. They don’t harmonize, they don’t crest and swell together like you had envisioned. They don’t blend in a cacophony of floral silhouettes like you saw in your mind. 

Instead, they look like a storming sea. Darker hues overpowering the light, like thunder through daybreak. 

Maybe you could fix it? Or maybe, you should just abandon this technique. Maybe you could-

There’s a knock at your door. 

It’s not light, or gentle, but firm, ringing out in rapid succession and you jerk. 

Who could that be? You’re not expecting anyone until- 

Oh. Oh no. Oh god. Oh no, no no. 

Your eyes dart frantically around the art room before you're shoving the two brushes from your hands into a tray and tripping out into your living room. 

“Oh my god.” You gulp out loud to no one but yourself, the person who has spent the last three, possibly four days in a haze, a painting binge, trying to escape the stress of your job, of life, of this… thing that’s going on with Simon and Johnny.

Trying to escape yourself. Your thoughts. Your feelings. 

Your flat expresses it well. You think, possibly, it could appear like it had been ransacked. Your clothes are everywhere. Draped over your tiny loveseat couch, shoved between cushions and pillows. Two-day old toast sits on your kitchen counter, accompanying two, three, four coffee mugs that are filled with varying levels of liquid. Your uneaten dinner from last night sits on a plate next to the trash can, your oats from the other morning sit cold in the sink. 

A prescription bottle that hasn’t been touched in four days, lurks on the kitchen counter with a handwritten note taped beneath it: 

“You HAVE to, or you’ll regret it.” 

Another knock sounds at your door, thumping followed by the sound of your phone vibrating next to the stove.

Your left sock has a swipe of chartreuse across it. Your overalls are tacky with dried paint. You can vaguely feel your hands touching your hair, your neck, hovering above where your heart hammers. 

You can’t let them see you like this. 

They’ve never seen you like this. 

This is supposed to be light. It’s fun. It’s… not real. They’re not with you. They cannot see. 

You take a deep breath. 

Maybe you can pass it off. You can… say you’re sorry for the mess, that you’re sorting through things for donation. And you don’t have to lie about painting. That will explain the clothes. 

You take a breath, and then open the door to find Johnny on the other side, happily smiling at you, mohawk shining in the light of the hall. He looks you up and down briefly, and you freeze, waiting. 

Waiting for him to say something nasty, something hurtful. Waiting for him to reprimand you for failing, to accuse you of being useless, helpless. Waiting for him to tell you he doesn’t have time to deal with this. That you should be better, do a better job of taking care of yourself. 

“- and he’ll just be a minute, but we’re so excited, been thinkin’ about ye all week. We had such a good time before we left, really loved sharing those days with you.” What? You blink. He cocks his head. “Love? Y’alright?” 

“Yeah.” You answer, voice monotone. Somewhere, trapped beneath layers and layers of the worst pieces, you’re screaming. You’re aching. You’re desperate. 

“This all paint?” He motions to the splatters and stains, and you nod robotically. “I remember, you mentioned that last time… that you paint. I uh, draw sometimes.” Of course, he draws. Because he’s beautiful, and perfect. He rubs his neck almost sheepishly before raising an eyebrow at you. 

Oh. Right. 

“D-do you… want to come in?” You offer it meekly. Please say no. say no, say you’ll wait out in there, say you don’t want to. 

“Sure, thanks.” Fuck. He steps by you as you motion, brushing against you closely, close enough that the butterflies flutter and you can feel the heat of him. “This is cozy, yeah?” He gestures to your flat from the kitchen, and you nod again. On autopilot.

All you can see is the food, untouched, uneaten. Evidence of your struggle. A water bottle that’s full to brim. The coffee cups, that you couldn’t even bring yourself to wash. All you can feel is your own skin, dry around your mouth, your nose, and oily everywhere else, your dirty clothes heavy against your body. You can feel your teeth, your tongue, unbrushed, unclean in your mouth, jaw clicking while your grind your molars. 

You shouldn’t have let him in. He’s going to see. He’s going to hate you. Hate this. 

The room spins. 

“Hey,” There’s a hand, on your arm. It’s big and soft, and sweet and you blink again. “Darling.” There it is. That pet name. That nick name. That name that’s quickly becoming your own. The one that makes you feel warm, safe, cherished. The one that makes you feel like this is something more. 

You hate it. 

You love it. 

“What is it?” Johnny’s handsome face peers down at you, concern worrying across his brow. 

“N-nothing.” You try to lead him off, but your breathing stutters through your nose, and he looks alarmed. 

There’s a new knock at your door, heavy and quick, and you both turn to look just as Simon is filling the door frame, half of his face hidden with the black mask that he always wears. 

He watches you. Like a predator. His eyes flick from you, to Johnny, to the kitchen… the living room. 

It's like there’s a train sitting on your chest.

“Didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” He says softly, clicking the door shut behind him. As soon as it’s secure, the mask comes off, and he’s focused on you, eyes not leaving your face, moving closer and closer until he’s upon you and Johnny, huge hand coming to hold your elbow. “What’s going on?” He murmurs, but it’s not for you. Even if it was, you cannot answer. There’s a train sitting on your chest, after all. 

“Ah dinnae ken.” Johnny answers immediately, while his palm works up and down your arm in a calming pattern. 

“Darling?” Simon cups your cheek. Ever since he showed you his face, he’s been… like this. Intuitive. Too intuitive. Too keen. Like he already knows. Like he’s been waiting. 

“I-“ you try to tell him it’s nothing. That you’re tired. All of your lies flit through your head, the stories you wanted to concoct to explain everything away but nothing comes out. Not even your breath. 

The room spins again, but this time so does your head. The floor feels like it’s tilting, or maybe it’s your feet that are off balance. You’re not sure. You feel light though, like your legs don’t even exist. Like your knees aren’t real.

“Shite.” Johnny swears, and lunges, hands darting out to catch you before the world goes black. 

“Are you asleep?” There’s a whisper, like a soft touch, against your ear. It’s enough to prickle, enough to crack a smile across your lips, and you press your face into the blankets while strong hands shift your hips.

“I dinnae, might be.” Johnny hums, stroking fingertips down your ribs. It tickles, forcing a breathy giggle from your mouth that’s met with another’s, lips moving with yours while you melt away in a pile of partners and pillows.

“How was the meeting?” You whisper. Simon cradles you to his back, warmth bleeding through his shirt to your skin, and you shimmy closer, pressing hard until you’re flush with him, Johnny watching the two of you with heavy lidded eyes.

“Standard.” Simon answers. “Thought about you the whole time.” He kisses your cheek, arm reaching for Johnny who obliges, nestling himself against your chest. You focus on them, taking long, deep breaths, keeping yourself above water, keeping the murky depths at bay, for now.

It’s better, when they’re here. It’s always better, when you’re together.

“Thinkin’ about ye asleep in our bed, bare cunt on our sheets enough to drive me mad.” Johnny groans, fingers skating across your hip bone. You’re not wearing underwear, just a giant sweatshirt, one of theirs, though you’re not sure who’s.

Lust roars to life between your legs, desire, want, has you clenching, but you try shove it away.

It’s too much, too soon. You’re too… off center. You’ll lose yourself. 

But they’re here. They’ll put you back together. Simon won’t let you fall. 

It’s not a good idea. 

You want it. You want them. Need them. 

The back and forth makes your head hurt.

“I- I’m not ready.” You blurt, and he freezes, pulling his hand free immediately but you grab onto it, desperate to have his touch, to feel him.

Guilt burns in your heart.

“Of course, darling.”

“I’m sorry… I want to I just-“

“You never have to apologize.” Simon rumbles and you shake your head.

“I know but, I feel bad. Guilty.”

“Look at me.” He urges, and you shift, all while clutching Johnny’s hand in yours. “We love you. There is nothing for you to feel guilty about. We will be here when you are ready, but there’s no rush.” He strokes a thumb across your cheek, and you lean into it, eyes slipping closed. “I think I’d be more worried if you were ready to jump right into sex, after everything.” Johnny hums his agreement and presses a warm kiss to your shoulder.

“Let’s take a nap then?” He suggests, and you pull his arm to your chest, rocking between the two of them until you’re effectively sandwiched, comfortable, and secure, just the way you like it.

The way you dream about it.

The way you can only hope it might be, from now until forever.

[captainfern]

fern rant below lol

yk one thing i have noticed both on tiktok, here and the rest of the internet is the “pornification” of media

by that i mean the standards people are being held to in regards of sexual attraction or just “beauty standards in general” and how there is this sudden increase of ideals and values built on the foundation of toxic pornography

i mean there are several examples, but the most common ideals you see typically relate to someone’s body and someone’s body hair and i have a bit to say on the matter, especially as someone who creates “pornographic” content

let’s talk body first

you are beautiful. it does not matter whether the internet perceives you as anything more or less than that. you are beautiful exactly the way you are

the pornification of modern media will tell you that you have to look a certain way. you will be told you can’t be plus-size, or you can’t be too skinny, or you can’t be tall, or you can’t lack curves, or you can’t have hyperpigmentation, etc. don’t listen to that bullshit

you are beautiful and i luv you

i don’t want to see negative body image portrayed in fanfic: x reader’s can be plus-size, they can be tall, they can have no curves. they are x reader for a reason !!! the reader should be described as little as possible !!!

and in saying that, yeah, your favourite fictional characters would fuck a bigger person. they’d fuck a taller person. they’d love you for you and be completely and utterly obsessed with you. “but actually— 🤓☝️” shut up please <3

now body hair

its natural !!! it grows !!!

if you don’t wanna shave, don’t shave. if you wanna shave, shave. baby it’s your choice. do what YOU want. don’t let anybody else influence you and your body

the pornification of modern media has really fucked this kind of thinking up because people (a lot of men unfortunately) think they can dictate the way people / women present themselves ??? gtfo what lmao

“body hair is nasty, body hair is unnatural, body hair is unhygienic”— honey please don’t. it’s not any of these things. body hair is completely ok (and so is not wanting it on you ofc— as long as it’s your decision, not the persuasion of anyone else)

i saw a tiktok of these guys being like “oh i’d never have sex with someone who didn’t shave” and “ew i’d never eat hairy puss” brother you literally suck (it’s ok to have preference, but don’t make it out to be vile or weird or something other people have to agree with)

it’s natural. it’s normal. it’s perfectly hygienic if you keep it that way. if you meet someone like the guys i mentioned above, they ain’t worth your time

and yeah, john price and simon riley and johnny mactavish and kyle garrick would fuck you and eat you out if you didn’t shave cause they’re MEN

love yourself because you’re beautiful and i’m telling you so right now !!!

i felt the need to say this as i write pornography. i write x readers. i try to keep everything regarding body as neutral as possible (and if i ever fuck up, please let me know !!)

i often write about “fat” or “flesh” in my writing but that’s because i don’t see a lot of fics with it. if you want something different, specify in a request and i will write your request more to your liking <3 i want everyone to feel accepted and welcome here because it’s important !!!

on that note, you won’t catch me writing about “bare pussy” or “hairless legs” or whatever. i try to keep it all up to your imagination !!! (you will find hairy men tho !!! the lads i write for will always be hairy but that’s cause i’m a whore)

anyway i luv you and you are so so so beautiful and i hope you have an amazing day / night wherever you may be

this post is not an attack or anything of the sort. i’m just speaking my mind :)

lots of luv <3

[kooksbunnnn]

Lost cause? 1 : everythings gone?

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook × female!Reader

Genre: Established relationship/ marriage, angst, panic attack (TRIGGER WARNING) heartbreak, INFIDELITY (do not read if this content triggers you) also, 18+, Please read the author's note.

Words: 5.3k words

Summary: You always wondered, how would your life turn out to be if you and Jungkook had a baby? So, when you finally conceive and decide to tell your husband, that you are pregnant, you didn't expect him to drop this bomb on you. You never would've thought that the surprise you planned would end up in agonized tears because of the shock your husband brings you. 

Authors note: hi everyone! Welcome, to the people who are reading this for the first time and I apologize to the people who have already read this and were disappointed that it got deleted. This was my first ever drabble on this app, but because of people giving so much love to this story, I decided to write another part of it. And since not every story or the ending or the writer is perfect, some people didn't like the part two. 

Since this story is slightly related to a trauma that I personally experienced, I tried to convince people that people have different approaches towards these situations and people might also want to try again if their partner cheats. Not giving a chance again was my approach, since my situation was different. 

Anyways, I updated the second chapter and some people called my OC dumb. So I tried making slight changes in the story and saved it in the drafts. But then I updated this app and my story got deleted from the drafts, which I apologize for with my whole heart. I am sorry if I disappointed any of the lovely readers by deleting the story, for the new readers, I hope you enjoy this drabble! Love you, hehe.

So here it is once again! The Lost cause. 

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Today's a very special day, Jeon Jungkook, your husband, would be back from his 10-day trip to Busan, courtesy of the company he worked his ass off for. Also, you had an announcement to make, speaking of which, you place the single candle on the dinner table finishing your preparations for the date night you planned.

You were pregnant, finally pregnant. After so many tries. You got so happy when the results came but since Jungkook was on a trip, you decided to keep it a secret until he comes back.

Anxiety, excitement, happiness, and maybe fear. What if he does not get happy listening to the news? These emotions are giving you a feeling that you are not able to place in your head quite clearly, but as soon as the sound of keys rattling reaches your ears, a smile appears on your face and the joy wins the race with every other feeling.

You run towards the gate and hide against the wall that was attached to the door giving you a spot big enough to put up your wedding picture frame. As soon as the door opens you jump and whisper-yell a 'boo', which was meant to be adorable but made him gasp and drop his luggage on the floor.

You pick up the phone that he dropped and you chuckle, hugging him you whisper in his ears, "I missed you baby."

When he doesn't hug you back your body tenses a little bit but before you can pull back he pulls you towards him and buries his head in your neck inhaling your scent. "I missed you too." You listen to him repeat the statement like a mantra, leaning back a little you look into his eyes...

Was he crying?

"Hey baby, I love you, okay?" You kiss him, trying to assure him of your presence. Inhaling his natural scent which was also mixed with a few cigarettes. You frown in the kiss when you realize something is off because of the way he just kept his lips frozen.

Also, the cigarettes were a symptom of stress, but you don't pay attention to the smoky scent and kiss him trying to make him relax. All the excitement drained out of you and now you were worried that you did something wrong.

The way he was holding you tightly but also with hesitation, 3 years of a relationship along with 2 years experience in marriage has taught you both, the body language you both can show and it made you a bit worried.

You step back to look at him properly and see that he had dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was disheveled. It looked as if he had run through by his hand many times. He does it again, proving your theory.

It's a nervous trait of his.

The single drop of tear dropping on his chin tells you something is wrong, his chest heaving as if trying to contain and also let out something. You realize he hasn't even looked at you once.

"Kook?" Hearing the nickname he opens his eyes to look at your face for a second and then looks away.

"Are you okay? Is everything okay? Did something happen baby?" The soft questions in a whisper-like voice made him tear up and say a distant 'yeah just missed you so much.'

You look at his face that was focusing on the picture you hung on the wall from your honeymoon trip, the hills in the background of the picture making you smile at the memory of your husband whining like a baby because of the cold.

The picture even has his nose red and all scrunched up while you were posing with a big smile on your face, your chin resting on his shoulder with your hands in his jacket pocket while you hugged him from the back, fitting into each other like puzzle pieces.

You both look at the picture and after some seconds of zoning out, you chuckle and say sorry for not even letting him in and jumping on him, he shakes his gaze off the painting and rushes to close the door before he takes his shoes off and just tumbles across the hall when you notice.

His shoes...

He never has his shoelaces untied. Cursing your overthinking brain you tell it that maybe he is tired and just wanna rest.

"You know I ordered a big pizza meal but then canceled it cause I suddenly changed my mind. It amazes me that I can change my mind in 35 seconds.." you chuckle at how fast you felt nausea set in your stomach when you ordered the pizza and just keep on talking, still nervous about how you're gonna tell him everything. "But then I decided to cook some steak which I couldn't cause I suddenly had a headache, so I decided that you can suggest something and we can order while you showe- where are you going, kook?"

You say in a confused tone when you see him opening the balcony door letting the cool air inside.

"Just need some air, Y/N"

You flinch at how he takes your full name, and you realize it must've been your rambling that you sent him to the balcony for air. You feel sorry and walk towards the balcony where he just stares at the city from above, the sun still setting into the horizon painting the sky a pretty shade of purple mixed with a crimson red.

"I'm sorry if I annoyed you baby, just excited you are back. You wanna shower first or eat something? You seem tired." He shakes his head at your question rocking your body a bit with his since you have yours attached to his back like a koala.

"Can I get some time alone, Y/N...please?" You pull back with your eyebrows knitted together at his sudden request which makes you feel something in your stomach. Something bad.

"Um, okay. Take your time.." you step back into the lobby when suddenly you feel nauseous and you run towards the bathroom with a hand clutched over your mouth.

Oh no. Not yet

Rushing into the bathroom you fall onto your knees in front of the pot, pouring out almost everything you had this morning. Jungkook comes running after you kneeling down immediately beside you, holding your hair back which you were not doing a good job at.

He rubs your back as you cough and try to breathe at the same time not being able to pay attention to his 'are you okays' or 'hey what happened' or 'it's okay, it's okay I am here'.

When you feel like you have nothing left in you, you sit up a little to flush the remnants of your indigested food into the sewer, falling back against the wall connected to the shower cabinet.

You breathe heavily and try to calm down when you notice a big pair of doe eyes looking at you in concern, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear as you try getting up.

"I am sorry, you didn't have to help, seriously. You're tired, go take a shower then we can eat something okay?" You try to leave the tensed guy's embrace but he stops you, looking at you from top to bottom examining you as a doctor while you turn to use some mouthwash.

"I didn't have to help? You were literally wrenching your gut out, are you even okay?!" He asks you in a terrified voice turning you towards him after you spit out the mouthwash.

You, not wanting to worry him more because of his earlier wanting to be alone statement, just hold his face in both of your hands telling him that it was stale rice that you had in lunch. Whispering an 'oh', he immediately takes his hands away from your face and asks you to be careful, adding a little please at the end making your heart swell with love.

You both stand there silent while the tap water runs in the background. You turn back to turn it off after some seconds and break the silence by telling him that he can shower as long as he wants and you can order something in the meanwhile.

Walking towards the door, you ask, "Chicken?" he looks at you for a second and breathes a 'yeah'. You smile and lean in to kiss his cheeks telling him not to take too long cause you have to talk about something.

"Me too," he says in an almost inaudible voice, giving him a little nod, you walk back into the kitchen.

After a long 42-minute shower, according to your phone clock, he comes out in a killing t-shirt and sweatpants combination. Smelling his body wash from 2 feet away you feel the comfort seeping into you. You hug him, inhaling his natural and soapy scent, running your hand in his damp hair and scratching his scalp, you chuckle.

"There's my perfect and not-so-travel-worn husband." You were about to start the conversation that lead to the announcement, when suddenly he buried his nose in your neck, sniffling and you feel his arms tightening around you, him mumbling an 'I am sorry' into your shoulder accompanied with little drops that dampen your t-shirt's collar.

You try to pull back to talk to him but he doesn't let you, his body starts shaking as he starts to fully sob. Your heart picks up its pace as you've never seen him like this. Doubting himself or the relationship, you feel a pang in your heart as if something bad is about to happen.

"Jungkook, hey, what's the matter? Are you okay?" You pull back putting in a lot of strength and see how his face is red and his tears are just flowing out.

"Hey look at me.." you try to make him face you but he just shuts his eyes trying to face away from your concerned orbs. He suddenly sits down on the chair with a thud slipping from your hold, he clutches his head and keeps on sobbing and coughing and crying. You try to calm him down with big wide eyes filling with tears as well, at seeing the pain he is in but its as if he can't hear you or your words.

You can swear you heard him say 'I fucked up, I fucked up. I am so fucking sorry.' Your heart sinks and you kneel in front of him, taking his hand in yours. Pressing short kisses on his tattooed fist, after a lot of struggling you finally make him look at you and the expression makes you doubt the curiosity in you because you have this feeling...

Sitting up on your knees coming face to face with him, he stares at you, sniffling, his eyes and his nose all red, lips quivering. "I love you Jungkook okay? trust me, tell me what happened please?" You say softly but firmly, confirming to him that he had to tell everything about the guilt and disgust he felt towards himself. How he wanted to just go back in time, to revert the fuck up he did, which is gonna ruin everything, everything he built, everything he had in this relationship. The love, the trust, he could see everything breaking including you and your heart.

Not being able to keep his eyes on you, he looks down at his lap and you have a feeling you're not gonna like his next words. Tightening his hold on your hands he said...

"I cheated on you."

The silence between you two, after hearing the words come out of his mouth, was deafening. You can't even hear your heartbeats, did it stop? Is this a dream? A nightmare if precisely termed. You feel the air in your lungs escaping and a panic setting inside you.

"It happened just once, I am sorry. I don't know why I did it. I am really sorry. I don't know what to do.." he keeps going on and on, you are looking at him but nothing reaches you.

There is this ringing in your ear that doesn't seem to stop and after a good 1 or 2 minutes of looking blankly at the body shaking and sobbing in front of you, you realize that you went blank. All the apologies and curses that were pointed at him were not even entering your ears.

When the realization hit, you felt all alone in the room, with silence, slow breaths, panic, and the 'feeling of a life growing inside you.' Questions. A lot of questions, came running at you with knives and swords piercing through your heart.

Why? Were you not enough?

Did he fall out of love?

Did you do something wrong?

Did you gain weight?

Did you not give him satisfaction anymore?

Were you ever insensitive?

Did you bore him?

Were you not exciting anymore?

Did you cross some boundaries of his privacy?

Should you've worn more makeup?

Should you have gotten that surgery your aunt suggested?

Did you annoy him?

Will he leave you?

Would you have to beg?

Will you beg?

What about the pregnancy?

Should you tell him?

What if he leaves?

What if you are left alone?

Do you even want to live a life alone, without him?

And many more...

The unfocused look in your eyes and the loosening grip of your hands made him jolt up in the chair and hold your hands tighter, pulling you towards his body, he left your hands and held you by your shoulders, trying to shake you out of the panic. He can almost read the questions in your eyes. He can explain, and he wants to, but he needs you to get back to him. Back to the lobby where you were looking into his eyes but still were not able to hear or see or feel him.

"Y/N. Look at me. Hey, Y/N, focus baby. Talk to me, please. Yell at me. Scream. Hit me. Just talk please." He shakes you and your body responds with a limp movement which makes him leave the chair and get down on the floor.

The anxiety, the panic, the betrayal, all making your breathing ragged. You want to scream but your body doesn't respond. You've been cheated a lot of times in your life, many times. Including the one time a guy used you for a bet to prove to his friends that he can fuck you. From grade 5th, the bullies of your school had bets on who can slap your ass or grope you in the hallways or in the classroom. Which forced you to shift to another school.

Making new friends was never easy for you and since everyone behaved well to you first and then betrayed you in the past, you had trust issues. So any guy who said he liked you, the issues that made the relationship difficult, ended up with him dumping you or the famous cheating situation. After 5 and a half years of isolation from friends and love since nothing made you feel secure. You finally found Jungkook who proved in every single way that he can be your friend and lover at the same time. You didn't need anyone else. And as of now, if not him, you have no one. This leaves you with another question. Are you gonna end up lonely in that depressing, dark pit where you cried and even if you were surrounded by four groups of people, no one gave a fuck.

The thoughts hit you like a punch in the gut and the amount of shaking Jungkook had you get out of the daze and finally focus on him. Looking at his face you remember everything you guys have done. The kisses, the movies, the cuddles, the teasing, the late-night walks, the crying sessions, the fights, the sex...

Before you can even think about the following genres of your memories, you push him back and clutch your head. Falling forward with your knees still tucked under your thighs, you pull your hair to stop the pain in your head and let out a screech that makes Jungkook sob harder.

He doesn't wanna see you like this, your body shivering, and the way your hands are shaking and your loud cries and wails that he never wanted to be the reason for. He knew your past. He knew every fucking thing. How could he do this to you? He vowed that he will never make you cry, he literally would kill anyone who made you upset.

Now, what should he do with himself?

You gasp as you take in the air, your body falling back as you reach for something on the ground to get support from. Jungkook tries to reach out to you but you yell at him to stay away as you start imagining pictures in your head of him kissing someone, moaning someone else's name, coming for someone else. You look at his face that was still crying and had his fists clenched on the marble floor.

"Why?" You ask between sobs not wanting to hear an answer, mostly talking to yourself. Listening to which he cries harder, crawling towards you he tries to hold your hand. But you struggle against him, trying to push him again but he pleads in front of you to listen to him explain.

"No!" You scream and push him off. Making him fall back against the floor, and you even stop for a second to check on him if he is hurt, but you continue, sobbing, when you see that he is okay.

"Was I not enough for you?! Why did you, out of all the people, You! have to prove that I am not worth putting people's time into?! What am I supposed to do huh?" you kneel in front of his body that was hesitant to reach out but wanted to comfort your panicked state. "You tell me Kook...Do you expect me to forgive you? Or do you expect me to trust you again and just forget that this.." you move your pointer finger towards both of you pointing towards your chests, "..ever happened?"

Getting up you get a dizzy feeling in your head and you can feel the room spinning. You lean against the kitchen counter. Tears never stopping. You look at him who was getting up to sit on the chair and constantly looking down at the floor.

Suddenly you can't breathe without asking him the questions in your mind and you wanted to know, Why? Who? Where?

"Who was she?" You ask not able to hide the little crack in your voice as you looked at your husband, who promised to love you. Forever.

"She was the manager in the club I went to celebrate with Hyungs." He speaks up without hesitation knowing that he owes an explanation. That easy? Was it that easy to forget about you and fuck another girl?

"What was her nam- actually no I don't wanna know..." you felt bile rise in your throat at the thought of knowing her name, so after a pause, you got the courage to ask him, "Did you fuck her?" He looked at you flinching at the choice of your words.

"No." He said looking away tears still flowing. Before you could ask further, he explained himself. "I-no, I didn't fuck her, does it matter what we did? I am sorry Y/N, just please look at me?" He begged as he stood up to walk up to you.

You chuckled sarcastically, no humor present in your voice. You looked up and saw guilt in his eyes as he stopped in his way when he heard you let out a half-hearted laugh. It hurts to see him cry but you can't help but feel the pain in your chest overlapping your love. You doubt if you should even tell him about his baby. It was supposed to be a surprise but clearly, your husband had better surprises planned.

You really want to, but you can't really see a future ahead of you now.

"We. It is such an easy word right, kook?" You look at the ground thinking about how he used the word so easily which was supposed to be only yours and his.

"We. Us..." You look up at him and say through clenched teeth, "..It matters Jungkook tell me. What exactly happened. I want to know where exactly I went wrong for you to go seek help somewhere else."

He wanted to protest but you shush him with an adamant,

'Tell me Jungkook'.

He looks at his feet and you prepare yourself for the heartbreaking details. "We met-.." he looks at you and changes his words "I met her when she came to ask if our group needed something. Namjoon Hyung introduced all of us since she was his old friend. They wanted to celebrate the deal and since she was Hyung's friend, we invited her, and I..I don't know what happened but I got really drunk and I just went to wash my face but she j-just grabbed me and pushed me against the wall and.." he started snuffling and you felt your body shaking and long, heavy breathes leaving your lungs, eyes squeezed shut, with clenched fists, trying to hear the whole story without breaking down. "She started kissing me a-and w-we just kissed and.."

He pauses pleading for you to not let him continue.

"Continue please.." he can hear your heart, your voice, and your demeanor breaking at the same time. "Y/N please.." hearing this, you look at him with eyes that were emotionless, telling him that he fucking owes this much to you.

All the while he was speaking, you think about the baby, the little person who did nothing wrong. Will his or her father leave? You feel your breath slipping away at the thought but you control the urge to scream until he finishes.

"..and then we just gave each other a handjob.." you flinched at the term making your knuckles go white. He sounds so distant, so small, the guilt eating him up.

"Did you cum?" you ask him, eyes shut as if trying to avoid the answers. He sighs and mutters a 'yes'. You inhale sharply trying to gasp for air looking up at the ceiling, "did you make her cum?"

He feels the knot in his throat fighting the food he ate earlier which was trying to come out, guilt and disgust seeping into his veins. This sounds so disgusting and you sound so broken. Your breathing making him feel pathetic. But after gathering some courage he admits cause he had to answer you.

"..yes."

It was supposed to happen if they did that kind of stuff but it made you feel sick to the stomach. You feel the world spin and you wonder if there is a chance that a nightmare could feel so true.

You don't know what comes over you when you call his name softly.

"Jungkook?"

He looks up at you with blurry eyes and you reach up to his hand to hold it against your belly. The moment you see him realize, you start crying breathlessly, hiccups making it harder to breathe. His eyes sparkle for a second when he understands that finally, he fulfilled his dream which was to be a father but loses it as soon as he realizes that he fucked up bad and what he did was irreversible, and also that he has ruined three lives altogether.

Him.

You.

And the baby.

His eyes lose color as soon as you drop his hand so that you can cover your crying face with both your hands, not knowing what you're gonna do now.

He steps back as he realizes what he has done. You and he have been trying for half a year and when he got the chance to be a father, to be a perfect husband, a chance to help you sit up, feed you, to do stuff for you cause you won't be able to do, since you would be having a big belly, with his baby inside. Who will one day hold his hand and call him 'dad', he wanted to help you get through the labor so that he could hold the baby in his arms taking in his or her features while you sleep because you'd be exhausted, then have a family picture taken in the hospital, and get it framed to put on the bedside wall.

You just keep sniffing after crying for a time you or he couldn't measure. Your body is not able to move. Your thoughts whirl inside your mind and you don't realize when you black out.

Jungkook heard how your hiccups stopped gradually, making him look upward to see how you passed out and now had your head resting on the wall behind you. Your body was cold and your face was wet with tears. He carries you to your bedroom and tucks you in, feeling sick when he sees your face and nose red. Black trails on the cheekbones. He tries to rub the smudges off but pulls his hand back when he realizes that he lost his right to do all this.

He places a glass of water on the nightstand which was his daily habit, cause he knows you wake up at the midnight, searching for water with grabby hands and whining until he gets you some.

You were his princess whom he liked to spoil even after your complaints of being a spoiled brat because of him, always smiling when he called you his baby. He made sure you didn't have to leave the comfort of your bed. He remembers how you smiled looking at him with your big doe eyes filled with love which were now red because of him.

He turns off the lights in the room to make sure your eyes don't strain while you sleep. Because he would not sleep next to you, to help you get your relief by burying your head in his chest to avoid the lights. He lost this privilege.

All these emotions made him feel nauseous but nothing comes up. The feeling sitting inside him as he watches your pale face being lit under the moonlight coming through the gap in the window curtains. He didn't realize how the clock turned from 07:35 in the evening to 01:05, midnight.

He sat on the floor next to your hand, not even daring to touch you trying to think of ways to solve this. When he doesn't he cries muffling his voice in his arms so that you don't wake up, he doesn't want to leave you alone, afraid of you getting up due to a nightmare or the morning sickness.

He doesn't realize when he falls asleep, but when he wakes up he doesn't find you anywhere in the room, not even in the bathroom. Calling out your name in panic, he runs out to the lobby where he doesn't find you either. He calls for you in a scared voice when the cool air from the balcony caressing his face tells him that you were on the balcony.

He rushed towards you and saw how you were crouched down on the floor sipping coffee or tea. It might be tea coz you don't like coffee in the morning. 'It makes me talk bitter' you told him once at the beginning of your relationship. The memories made him smile.

Walking inside the balcony area decorated by you as soon as you both moved into the apartment 8 months ago, with plants, wall hangings, colorful pots, and a set of chairs with a little round table for your balcony date nights you had on Saturdays.

Sitting down he sees that your eyes are still swollen and he understands you were crying before he woke up. He wants to caress your swollen skin but he doesn't have the right to anymore. So he just sits across you on the balcony floor looking at the floor underneath him.

After finishing the tea you keep the empty mug on the floor with a clink and without looking at him and focusing still on the empty utensil, you softly speak, "Kook, I don't know, I-I just... I love you and I don't think that would change ever but..." he squeezes his eyes, dreading your next sentence.

I just don't know if I can see you, or feel the same way for you as I did before, b-but... I think our child should be born with both parents being able to be around each other." he looks up at you with hopeful eyes.

"That does not mean that I would be able to forgive you, Kook. You broke my heart, Jungkook. I am strong. But I am not that strong to let you back in my life. After what happened to me in the past, this was my last straw and I hope you know that I loved you with everything I had... I still do. But I just can't." You breathe out.

You feel your heart clench at the way he opens his mouth to say something but closes it the moment you start tearing up. He looks at his lap again, soft sniffles coming from his direction.

You don't want to leave, but you get up to leave the balcony with Jungkook still looking at the floor not able to make eye contact with you.

With your back towards him, you say, "I am going to live at my mom's house for some time until I find an apartment or maybe until our baby is born, I do not want to stay here.." looking around you feel your heart sinking as every spot that screams about the time you've spent here.

"...the memories will fucking kill me. Also, you can...um, visit if you want, as I w-want you to be an equal part of the child's life as I am, just.." he looks up at you with teary eyes at your pause, ".. don't expect to be a part of my life, Kookie. It won't be easy for me but I can't risk it. I have to take care of us"

And he looks away with watery eyes when he realizes that you were not talking about the three of you but just the baby and you.

Seeing him try to control his breathing, you couldn't help but walk back into the balcony to kneel in front of him. Muscle memory, you guess. Leaning forward, you put your hand on the other side of his face and give a peck to his cheek, he holds your wrist softly in place not wanting to let you go, and you both sob simultaneously while inhaling the air as if breathing is the most difficult thing in the world.

You feel your heartbreak at the Irony. He used to be your safe space. He helped you breathe.

You put your forehead against his and let his scent get absorbed and engraved in your mind. One last time. But you know you have to be strong. Your past has ruined your trusting instincts and now Jungkook just put the cherry on top.

You mumble a little 'I love you' before nudging his nose with yours as he tries to not let you go, but eventually does cause he didn't dare to stop you after doing you wrong. You get up to leave when you hear a silent 'I love you too' followed by a wave of muffled sobs leaving his mouth.

You let the tears fall openly and vulnerably as you leave the apartment, breaking down as soon as you reach your car. You glance at the plushie sitting on your dashboard he gave you after winning at an arcade.

The little squishy duck looking at you with pity in its plastic eyes, as it now has witnessed your most happy moments and the most dreadful ones in approximately 8 months.

Was everything over? You and Jungkook? Your perfect fairytale? Your perfect family? The dream you've been dreaming of forever, the child and the kid's room, the house in the countryside, everything?

was it all gone, forever?

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Next chapter. Series masterlist Main Masterlist

✨️Comment, message, or send me an ask if you wanna get added to the tag list of this series. ✨️

[shepscapades]

*rotates dbhc!Xisuma and Doc in my head*

I'm sorry but I absolutely lose my mind over them ( I have literally no one who I could ramble about this to and I need to get it out). I want to analyse stuff, so let me just:

*breathes in*

It's visible that they are good friends and have been since the time when Doc deviated, research partners doing... research? Or whatever researchers do *shrugs*.

But there's one thing to it, X created Doc and most of other androids. He understands what is deviation because Doc explained it to him but his friend is still an android after all. We also know that X always calls Doc "Docm" but in previous comic he calls him "Doc" and it is stated that it's the first time he ever called him that. In which moment he calls him that? In the moment when he realises that Doc is more human than android now, I may be delusional about this all but I just feel like: the moment when he sees Etho overpower Doc, shove him and break him and stuff, Xisuma sees that Doc isn't a fearless machine but a someone, a human, he got overpowered by Etho and suffered consequences, he felt fear like a human not a machine. Also he lost his arm because he was trying to stop Etho from hurting X as we see in the second part of the comic, which only adds to that. So, this is the moment where X fully realises that he means something to Doc, not as a creator, but as a friend, and that's why for the rest of the comic he constantly makes sure if his partner is alright by talking to him, glancing at him. You know stuff. He grew closer and closer to Doc as time passed and I think this was the climax - the moment he called Docm77 "Doc".

While Doc is doing the most stoic stuff ever and trying not to self destruct and stuff, he cares about X too, very much even, he's protective towards him and shows it by jumping into danger he could have avoided [ Etho attacked X because he's an admin and probably knows where's Grian - Etho wants to hunt down this pesky bird for killing Bdubs] just so his partner won't get hurt how sweet <3 RIP arm you will be remembered...

Anyways I feel like they should talk about stuff and maybe cuddle and maybe I don't know LIVE?? NOT DIE??

Yeah, I think that I don't even need to explain for how long they've been spinning in my head.

Also wanted to thank you so much for so many kind words on my fanart !! I'm glad I can make someone happy with my cheap, old drawing tablet and some self taught skills lol sorry for flooding your ask-box again so so sorry but those comics make me go AWOOGA holy shift, and also DOC AND X CONTENT !! They are so underrated that you almost can't find anything good relating to them as a duo! [personally I think they're great, just two dudes that do things together and care for eachother <3]

So, yep. Prepare yourself for things like that after every new part comes out I WILL make memes and I WILL analyse block men.... sorry not sorry :)

[how to get me into an AU- tutorial: Xisumavoid must be in it- the end]

WE ARE ROTATING THEM. WE ARE WATCHING THEM ROTATE!!!!! you freaking GET me

(THERE ARE SOME INTERESTING THOUGHTS HAPPENING HERE!!!! None of which I’ll confirm but Eye Emoji :3 I love love love these theories they make me so happy ehehehehehe)

(ALSO YOU’RE SO WELCOME!!! That art made my day fr LMAO I love and appreciate it so much!!! <3)

[flowerandblood]

The Man with the Fiery Gaze

[ Amor • Aemond x Psyche • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, oral sex, smut, angst, overstimulation, uncertainty related to physical wounds, trauma ]

[ description: After she is attacked in a fair by a strange man and narrowly avoids death, her father the king decides that from now on she will be watched over by one of his ‘ghosts’, a assassin acting on his orders, wearing a black mask. The man follows her like a shadow, accompanied by their past, which keeps her awake at night. Gothic horror love story, angst, sexual tension, very dark Aemond. ]

This story is several requests combined into one: sworn protector x female; Amor x Psyche; Phantom of the Opera! Aemond x female. I took the liberty of creating a completely new story from this, having only elements of each of these requests.

Series & Characters Moodboard Lady Walford Moodboard Gothic & Horror Sensual Moodboard

Part 1 - The Man with the Black Mask | Part 2 - The Man with the Empty Heart | Part 4 - The Man with the Cold Lips | Part 5 - The Man with the Deep Scar | Part 6 - The Man with the One Eye | Part 7 - The Man with the Golden Gift | Part 8 - The Man in the Black Crown | Part 8 - The Man in the Black Crown | Part 9 - The Man with the Bloody Sword | Part 10 - The Man in the Black Gloves | Part 12 - The Man with the Pearly Hair

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Her husband terrified everyone but her. His cold, mocking gaze, his lips clenched into a thin line, his pallor, his black eye patch made it seem to her that his lordships saw him as a phantom rather than a man. She found it hard to believe how much he could change as he crossed the door of his chamber, as he joined her in bed, asking in a whisper if his little wife missed her husband.

She had always missed him.

When he was not beside her she felt incomplete.

To the fury of some lords, he expected her presence at councils, consulting her often, relying on her advice. She did not interfere in the affairs of the kingdom when he did not ask her to or when he did not want to hear her opinion, having no intention of undermining his authority or challenging his opinion in front of other lords.

She wanted him to know that he could always count on her support, and only spoke to him of her doubts behind the closed doors of their chamber.

They were bound together by deep darkness, grief and death, tying them together by an invisible thread of understanding.

She had the feeling when she looked at him, when he gripped her in his hands, that he was devouring her, with every thrust of his hips taking something of her for himself − when she embraced him tightly, joining with his lips in a sudden, passionate kiss she had the feeling that he was filling her whole, that they were one person.

There was something in his coldness, in his distance, in his enviousness that attracted her, in his almost frantic, menacing gaze as he looked at her with his mouth wide open, hissing for her to beg him for his seed, which she did devotedly, making him come inside her a moment later with a loud, low groan of pleasure.

"− we are one −" He whispered when it was all over, lying on top of her, staying deep inside her, looking straight into her eyes, his large hand stroking her cheek. "− you and me − you see me as I truly am −"

She smiled at his words, feeling gratitude, peace and heat rippling across her chest − the sight of such a reaction on her face always embarrassed him and moved him in a way, so he tried to distract her with a sticky, hot kiss which he placed on her lips, her fingers then sinking into his hair, reciprocating his caress with devotion.

She was horrified by how connected she felt to him.

She was horrified by how much affection he evoked in her.

She was the only person he really confided in about his dark thoughts. He spoke to her about the lords he doubted, took advice from her on the things that kept him awake, looking at her intently, knowing that he would recognise immediately if she lied to him.

She had no intention of doing so.

She was faithful to him in body, heart and mind.

He knew that, and that was what was driving him mad, pushing him to root into her at night until she begged him to finally let them both rest.

"− I need to make sure I've filled my wife well −" He panted between desperate, sloppy thrusts of his hips, their bodies all welted up from the exertion − he sank inside her with a loud click of her juices and his spend, looking at the sight of him taking her from behind, unable to deny himself watching his fat cock stretch her insides with his every thrust.

"− fuck − so good −" He mumbled, coming again with a sigh of wonderful relief, falling on top of her at last, his sweat-wet hands finding hers and entwining with them, his cheek nestled against hers, his lips surrounding her skin with his hot, raptured breath.

"− you smell wonderful − I could do this to you all night −" He muttered, lazily pushing his half-soft manhood deeper into her with soft rocking of his hips.

"− I know, my King − but have mercy on your poor wife who won't be able to sit up tomorrow −" She whispered half dreaming; it was late and all she wished was that he would let her lie like that with him and fall asleep.

She heard him murmur, felt his pride beating at the thought of him bringing her to such a state, feeling fulfilled as a man, a lover and a husband as a result.

"− your husband is merciful − sleep −" He hummed softly, leaning down, placing a kiss on her naked shoulder, turning with her to his side so that he was no longer crushing her with his body, embracing her tightly, her hands tightening on his arms, delightfully hiding in his embrace.

Very often they both had nightmares, each seeing the same thing in them − soldiers with swords who burst into their chamber screaming, killing them in their beds.

Her husband kept two daggers under their pillows, just in case, and every night he checked with an involuntary flick of his hand that they were in place before he fell asleep.

When she woke with a scream she could feel him shuddering beside her, terrified, clasping his arms around her, a quiet, helpless quiver escaping her lips.

"− shhh − it's me − you're safe − breathe −" He whispered softly, again and again kissing her hot, soft skin, stroking her bare body with his hands until her heart slowed again and her breathing calmed.

"− I dreamt that they came for us − that they slit your throat and then raped me in front of your eyes − you were still alive and they made you watch −" She mumbled out in a trembling voice feeling a tear run down her cheek onto the pillow under her head.

She heard him swallow loudly at her words, embracing her tighter from behind, nuzzling his face into her hair, his fingers stroking her bare shoulder.

"− no one will touch you − you're mine and you're safe − your husband will protect you −" He whispered quietly and she nodded, closing her eyes, allowing herself to focus only on the warmth of his body, on the tenderness with which his hand stroked her bare flesh, trying to give her any source of comfort.

When her moon bleeding began to delay she waited a long time before going to the medic to examine her, wanting to make sure she was not wrong in her assumptions. He, however, had no doubts.

"You are carrying a child in your womb, my Queen."

She decided that she must inform her husband immediately, personally, disregarding the fact that a council of his closest advisors was currently taking place, during which he insisted that no one should disturb them.

"My Queen, you cannot walk inside now." Said one of the guards.

Over the months after their marriage, her husband's followers slowly began to trust her and no longer referred to her with such coldness, however, her husband's will was paramount to them, and they feared nothing more than his wrath.

"Open the door. I must convey a message to the King that cannot wait." She said gravely, looking at them with her hands folded in front of her.

The men looked at each other uncertainly; the one she spoke to sighed heavily and with a clack of armour walked to the door, opening it. Her king-husband fell silent in mid-sentence, looking at her angrily as she stepped inside and bowed, his lips pressed into a thin line. He looked at his guard with exasperation.

"I ordered that no one should disturb us."

"I must convey something important to you in private, my King. It is a matter of urgency." She said in a calm, confident tone, looking straight into her husband's face.

She saw him roll his eyes as he let out an impatient breath; he bited his lower lip and dismissed the men seated around the table with a gesture of his hand. They began to get up in silence, tense, leaving one by one until they were left alone.

"Speak." He said in an impatient, sharp tone, looking somewhere off to the side, tapping his pointing finger against the table top.

She approached him unhurriedly, saw him lift his gaze to her in which lurked a threat, telling her that if it turned out to be nothing important, he would lose his temper.

"I carry your inheritance in my womb, my King." She said softly, unable to hold back a shy smile, heat spreading through her heart as she saw his shocked look fall from her face to her lower abdomen where she held her hands, his lips parted in disbelief as if he had run out of words.

"… are you sure? Has you been examined by…"

"I've just been to the medic. I had suspected it for weeks, but I preferred to wait and be absolutely sure."

She heard him swallow loudly, saw his chest rise and fall in deeper breaths, his gaze fixed on her stomach. Wanting to embolden him, she gently grasped his wrist lying on the armrest of his chair and placed his hand where her womb was, stroking his skin with her thumb.

He sighed quietly, massaging her skin hidden beneath the material of her gown with his fingers, his gaze softened, the rage evaporating from him, replaced by shy disbelief.

He finally lifted his gaze to her and drew her to him − she fell into his lap, letting his wet, warm lips press against hers in a loud, sticky kiss. She sighed quietly in satisfaction and reciprocated his caress, pulling away from him, taking his cheeks in her hands.

"Does my King resent my interfering with his council?" She asked quietly, his hand from her waist involuntarily wandering to her womb again, as if he couldn't believe that at last the gods had blessed them with something they wanted so badly.

"No. You have pleased me with your words, wife." He hummed softly, his voice calm and warm, the way it usually was when they lay in the night snuggled into each other, tired and raspy from exertion and fulfilment.

She leaned into him and kissed his forehead, heard him purr contentedly.

"That is all I had to share with you, my King. With your permission." She said slipping out of his arms, wanting to get up, but she felt his shoulders clench tighter around her instead of letting her go, his cock throbbing beneath her with impatience.

"We cannot, my King. Your advisors are waiting." She whispered, looking at him calmly, her lips parted slightly when she noticed his pupil dilated, his irises almost black.

He answered nothing, his hands lifting her gown higher with an eager, sharp movement, forcing her to sit on top of him again − she sighed quietly unable to hide a smile of satisfaction.

When he saw this he clamped his hand painfully tight on her hair and forced her lips to cling to his again in an aggressive, roguish kiss − she grasped his cheeks in her fingers, stroking them with her thumbs.

He murmured contentedly and, wasting no time, undid the buckles of his tunic, then reached down to untie his breeches, sliding them down just enough to release his throbbing, swollen erection.

A low, surprised moan of delight erupted from his throat as she immediately grasped his length in her hand and directed it between her thighs, lowering herself onto it with a quiet sigh of pleasure. He leaned his head back resting it on the backrest, closing his healthy eye for a moment, a quiet, throaty fuck erupted from his lips.

They both began to pant as she began to slowly rise and fall on top of him, his large hands slipped under her gown and squeezed her bare buttocks impatiently, forcing her to speed up, the thrusts of his hips stretching her tight, fleshy walls with his hard, throbbing manhood.

She stroked his cheek and entwined her fingers in his soft white hair leaning over him, placing tender kisses full of devotion, desire and passion on his lips, her mouth wet and hot, a low, wonderful moan of delight escaping from his throat, his cock twitching with pleasure inside her.

"− don't stop − don't fucking stop − your King wants to fill you −" He hissed out between thirsty, deep, loud kisses, stifling their loud panting and moans as they did so, his chair creaking loudly each time she sank down on top of him, rubbing herself with it so that the fat head of his cock teased a wonderful spot deep inside her.

"− who am I to defy my King's command − my King can come inside me as many times as he wants −" She muttered sweetly, softly, feeling a shudder run through him, a sigh escaped his from his parted lips pressed against hers − she felt him throbbing inside her like crazy, her fleshy, hot walls clenched around him and sucked him in.

"− I − yes, fuck, oh godsss −" He gasped apparently struggling to restrain himself not to come, wanting to prolong this moment, but he gave in at last with a sigh of relief, pressing his face against hers, her fingers stroking his cheeks as she felt his seed fill her.

She felt his hand from her hip rise to her face and run through her hair, sliding down her neck, a pleasant shiver passed through her. They kissed lazily a few more times, calming their breathing and he finally pulled away from her with an expression of satisfaction, holding her chin between his fingers.

"You may leave, my wife." He hummed lowly. She smiled at his words and rose, feeling strangely empty as his manhood slid out from her with a loud splat. She adjusted her gown hearing him quickly tie his breeches, reaching for the buckles of his tunic and bowed humbly, no longer looking at him.

"My King."

She turned and walked out, opening the door and stepping out into the corridor where men stood waiting for them to finish their conversation, looking at her with furrowed brows. She suspected they knew exactly what they were doing.

She could feel his spend running down her thighs.

She knew they were jealous that he had allowed her to be so close, where every one of them dreamed of being his most trusted advisor.

She figured she wouldn't give them any reason to gossip and spread the opinion that she had become a queen by sneaking into his bed.

"Rejoice, my good lords. There is an heir to the throne in my womb." She said softly with a sincere smile of satisfaction, the men looked at her in disbelief and then at her abdomen.

Some seemed very pleased by this news, others only nodded, others seemed worried.

Until she bore the King an heir they believed that he would change his mind and divorce her, taking one of some lord's daughters as his wife.

However, they each offered her congratulations before entering the chamber, which they also repeated towards the King, who only nodded at their words, looking straight at her from across the table.

A living fire burning in his eye.

If it had seemed to her until now that her husband was obsessed with her, this impression was intensified further after passing on to him the joyful news that she was expecting his heir.

That night he took her gently and tenderly, first showering her with adoringly soft, wet kisses all over her naked body only to slide then between her thighs, sinking his tongue deep inside her, allowing her to reach her peak on his face.

He spent a long hour this way, licking her, teasing and sucking her pearl, tearing out of her fulfillment after fulfillment, watching with a smirk full of satisfaction as she wriggled beneath him in despair, babbling that she could take no more, that it was too much.

It seemed to her that what she was saying was having the opposite effect, the tip of his nose ran over her leaking womanhood again making her shiver.

"− you have made your husband happy today, sweet wife − I only wish to express my gratitude −"

From now on she could bother him at any time, of course, if the need was urgent or concerned their child.

He ordered the fruits she so adored to be brought to the fortress from the farthest reaches of the kingdom, and although she told him it was an unnecessary expense, he did not listen to her, recognising that it was his duty as her husband to provide her with everything he felt she needed in her blessed condition.

In the evenings, even when he was reading he longed to be close to her, so instead of sitting in his chair by the fireplace as usual, he would sit on the chaise longue, leaning back comfortably.

She would then come to him with a thick cloth in which she enveloped herself, not wanting to get cold in her nightgown alone, and lay down beside him, hugging the top of her head to his hip. His hand immediately moved to her shoulder, which he stroked in a steady, tender motion, flipping the page of the book lying on his thighs with a loud rustle.

Her pregnancy had been a huge trial for them, her belly swollen from his child had made her suffer, her back aching unmercifully, vexed by hot, dry nights during which she squirmed and could not sleep.

Although the medic had announced that he should not take her into his bed during the course of her pregnancy, she could not imagine having to wait so many months without touching him.

He did not seem enthused by the idea either, so they met in his chamber like parted lovers.

He was gentler towards her, the thrusts of his hips softer and more tender − he didn't want to hurt her or their child, his hand clenched on her womb as he root into her from behind, panting loudly, saying that he would stop soon, that just a moment more.

One time she was so hot that she couldn't sleep and she decided to sneak out of his chamber, not wanting to wake him up again, knowing that he couldn't sleep because of her. He never complained about it, however, she knew that he had trouble concentrating, the thought of her impending labour putting him in a constant state of anxiety and worry.

He was afraid.

She breathed heavily in relief as she stepped into her chamber, stroking her abdomen, feeling her child wriggling in her womb, thinking about the fact that only a few more months and it would be over.

She lay down in her bed, which had previously been her mother's chamber, and before that, Queen Alicent's. She thought of the underground shelter beneath her, of her husband having spent several days there.

He had told her about it one night when they lay tired, the healed wound in his eye socket sometimes causing him pain and the medic then had to pull out the sapphire that was placed there to apply ointment.

It turned out that the polished stone rubbed him and created small wounds that oozed and then caused him great discomfort.

"My Queen, the King should not wear this stone in his eye socket nor his eye patch for the next few weeks. He, however, insists on only taking a break for a few days until the ointment takes effect. I beg you to speak his mind, he will listen to you." Said a man in a simple brown robe, as she understood, one of the monks who had once saved her husband's life.

She nodded and walkend into his chamber − he sat in a chair leaning to one side, his black eye patch on his head, his hand massaging his temple, his face expressing discomfort and fatigue.

He looked at her sleepily and she thought immediately that the medic had given him poppy milk, which meant that his pain was so severe that he had decided to stupefy his senses, though he always kept his mind as sharp and focused as possible.

She approached him, sighing quietly, with a face expressing genuine concern − she took his hand in hers and stroked it with her thumb, but said nothing.

She knew that the last thing he wanted from her was pity and he would have preferred them to pretend that there was no subject, however, this time the matter was too serious for her to leave it out without a word.

"I was told by the medic that in order for your wounds to heal properly, you should not wear your eye patch at night so that your skin can rest and regenerate on its own." She said in a soft whisper, stroking his hand with her fingers. She felt him tense up all over; he turned his head away in impatience, showing her that he had no intention of discussing it with her.

"We'll cover the windows with curtains if you wish." She added, wanting to convince him if he wanted so badly for her not to see him without his sapphire, that there was a way.

"No." He replied roughly, even though his head was facing her sideways his eye was looking in her direction.

She swallowed loudly at the thought that ever since they had been married he had always left a single candle lit next to their bed when they went to sleep, his proof that his days of being locked away in endless darkness were over.

"I carry your heir under my heart, the medics think I need to get enough sleep and avoid worry. How can I manage this when I see my king-husband suffering through no fault of his own and making his condition worse for me? Let us draw the curtains."

"You will not keep your word. Just as you did then." He said coldly, turning his face towards the burning fireplace.

She felt a squeeze in her throat, her heart pounding harder in her chest as she realised he was speaking about when, while he was still her guardian, she had opened her eyes before he left even though she had promised him she would not do such thing.

"You knew everything about me then and I knew nothing about you. Now you are my husband and as always I will respect your will. I swear it on our child." She said calmly and slowly, wanting him to know that her words were sincere and serious.

She saw his jaw clench as he swallowed loudly and squeezed his eye shut, she knew that a wave of pain was running through his head again. He covered his face with his hand in a gesture of surrender.

"I won't forgive you if you don't keep your word." He said lowly; she knelt beside him, laying her head on his thigh, reaching with her palm to his hand extended on the armrest of his chair.

"I will keep my word, my love. Let's go to sleep."

As promised, this time it was she who drew the curtains, one by one, making the entire chamber fall into complete darkness. Walking back to their bed she had to walk slowly with her hands stretched out in front of her, not wanting to hit anything − she hissed when she bumped her knee on the small table, she heard him rise on the bed.

"Did you hurt yourself? Come here." He said impatiently − she felt his hand grab her arm and lead her straight to the bed. She landed in his arms and kissed him, however instead of a sigh of delight she heard his muffled sound of discomfort and pain.

She reached in the dark for his eye patch and pulled it gently off his head − she could hear him breathing loudly, his hand clenched tightly on the material of her nightgown.

"You see me." He said reproachfully, pained, his voice breaking as he spoke the words in such a way that she felt a sting in her heart.

"I can't see anything, my love. I swear, it's too dark." She whispered softly and ran her fingers over his healthy cheek, a powerful shudder went through her when she felt it was wet, after a moment she felt another tear run down between them.

He was crying.

This realisation shocked her so much that for a moment she didn't know what to say, her throat squeezed so tightly it made her ache.

"− my beloved husband − please, don't despair −" She mumbled in a trembling voice, stroking his hair as if he were a small child. She felt his strong arms tighten around her and pull her closer − she snuggled her face into his neck, her hand placed on his bare chest just above his heart.

He closed her in a tight embrace, stroking her back and hands − she heard him sigh heavily, as if he was trying to get something out of himself but was unable to.

"Since you have been my wife, there has always been at least one candle lit in my chamber." He uttered without strength; she lift her hand again and stroked his cheek, hushing him, pressing her forehead against his jaw, his fingers tightening on her hair.

"I will be your light this night and every night that follows, for as long as it takes, my love." She said softly. She heard him swallow loudly, letting the air out with a heavy sigh, desperate.

"Embrace me through the night, sweet wife. Don't let me out of your arms."

_____

I'm ending this series here because we've reached what I wanted, which is an openness and vulnerability that brings them completely closer together. I didn't want to suggest to the fans what would happen next, whether a girl or a boy would be born, or maybe a tragedy would happen to them? In my mind, they have six children, exactly the number Alys predicted, but all of them are born from his queen wife. They ruled bloodily, justly and indivisibly, trusting only themselves, their relationship on the verge of obsession caused general terror, and was a source of jealousy for others.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @rwdkarla @echos-muses

[nayatarot777]

what about you is a threat to other people? why do people try to tear you down?

• pile one •

cards: 9 of pentacles, strength, the fool

your self esteem and self confidence has people THREATENED, pile one. well and thoroughly intimidated. you guys seem to hold a lot of self value and self control. you live your life according to your own set of morals and standards and you ensure to prioritise these things. you’re someone who’s able to control your ego extremely well because you have a lot of trust in yourself, your own decisions, and your own opinions about situations. there’s an energy of moving through life with fearlessness. you have a strong sense of loyalty to yourself and to your self improvement, so you don’t let yourself stray away from new paths in life if you feel called to do so - regardless of what others may think about your decisions. you’re viewed as someone just doing your own thing and building your own life. you seem to be content and you seem like you’re living life in the way that you want to. there’s also an energy of constant maturity - if people were to not see you for a year, meeting you again would be meeting a much more developed person than before. any petty or immature behaviours or mindsets are constantly assessed and transmuted by you. the immature things that people would be able to hold against you are things that they can’t hold against you a couple of months afterwards, because you would have already come to terms with any immature behaviour. you’re extremely self aware which is where this ability to successfully tame your ego comes from.

cards: the tower, 8 of wands, the empress

people will try to tear down your self esteem by blindsiding you out of nowhere with behaviour that’s clearly devaluing to you. it’s like they’re trying to change the amount of value that you see in yourself by devaluing you randomly. it seems like you’re someone who doesn’t put that much emphasis on many other people anyway, so this probably doesn’t hurt you as much as these people intended it to. and you still seem to sit tall on whatever figurative throne that these people themselves have put you on. there’s a lot of your divine feminine energy that’s attacked when people try to tear you down. you may also experience people attacking you under the guise of being someone loving or caring towards you. but your intuition seems to be extremely strong, leading you to recognise the intimidation that these people feel from you. so it’s almost like you put up the necessary boundaries to make these people’s negative energy backfire on them. they always end up in rubbles from their own jealousy/envy while you’ve managed to stay protected.

if you’d like a private reading, please read my pinned post 💞

• pile two •

cards: ace of pentacles, 5 of wands, the hanged man, 3 of wands

what’s threatening about you is that you know how to see past the bs. you know how to go within and tune into your intuition to see whatever it is that you need to see. and if you don’t like what you see, you move on. this ability to pause, to be by yourself, and to listen only to your own intuition is what allows you to be grounded and build stability in your life and connections with others. it also seems like people don’t want to argue with you at all either 😂 you often use logic and practicality in the points that you make, meaning that you’re always a few steps ahead of others. this intimidates them. you might also have uncommon or unusual opinions that make a lot more sense than typical opinions on certain topics. you’re someone who takes an unconventional path in many areas of your life, finding success with those paths and finding a lot of blessings and value in them. you might even make money in an uncommon way. i heard “no competition” in relation to that so whatever you do, you’re extremely good at. this might even be part of your main life path, and blessings arrive when you follow this purpose that you’ve found for yourself. people who are intimidated by you are intimidated by how you seem so sure of where you’re heading and what life will look like for you in the future - even if you feel the complete opposite. you just seem enlightened about life and your own life purpose, so you stick to it - despite the conflict that other people may bring to you about this. you actually experience the most conflict when you’re taking steps towards your life purpose/destiny (check your natal chart for your north node placement and research what this means for you). whenever you step into that energy, people who are intimidated by you will try to cause issues to stray you off that path. but you have a great intuition, and i feel like you already know how these people feel about your level ups.

cards: the empress, the stars, page of swords

the empress came out in pile one, in the same section of their reading. the way that people tear you down is by attacking your divine feminine energy. but it seems like with you, people may attack your physical appearance. knit picking at both your looks and achievements. i just heard that some people might also treat you like you’re being suspicious - asking invasive questions. people might get reckless in general with what they start saying to you, because you seem so perfect to these people. and it’s like they’re digging for dirt about you that they could go and gossip about and negatively affect your reputation with. with the star, they might try to outshine you in social situations - particularly with conversation because you guys are a great conversationalist. that’s how you attract a lot of people to you easily. your words hold weight in a way that people need and they get attached to hearing you voice your opinions and speak. this page of swords gives me hating ass energy. i’m seeing someone evil eyeing you and staring daggers at you as you’re having a conversation that the other person is clearly enjoying or invested in. the people who try to tear you down might be people who aim to look, behave, and appear perfect in any way possible. your beauty is a source of envy, so a lot of people who are insecure af about their physical appearance feel like you’re major competition - to the point where they’re not even competition to you. you outshine them with your beauty. as well as your brains. you’re not just a pretty face. i’m getting that for those of you who are feminines/women, other feminines or women who try to be pick mes (what they believe men want them to be) are often the envious ones around you. the ones who probably think that playing dumb is cute, until they see a man/masculine that they want the attention of being swept up in your conversation and your mind and intelligence. so they start to emulate. people who tear you down stay trying to copy you. the way that you speak, your opinions, the way that you view situations, the way that you heal or help people, the way that you dress. anything. you’re a natural healer. your energy is healing. and these people who try to tear you down try to trigger the more unhealed aspects of you to, again, attach some dirt to your name. this is always unsuccessful though, because you’re so in tune with yourself. stay doing whatever tf you’re doing because it’s clearly something that a lot of people put up on a pedestal and are threatened by.

if you’d like a private reading, please read my pinned post 💞

• pile three •

cards: the hermit, knight of wands, knight of cups

the way that you can be in solitude and go into a deep, introspective mode is threatening to others. you do so much soul searching in order to figure out the lessons that you need to learn. you could have an old mind or an old soul. with a childlike and loving spirit. you’re deeply missed when those who you have a connection with don’t see you. i heard that they feel like they’re talking to someone with the most amount of childlike wonder, but also the oldest, most valuable knowledge at the same time. the way that you can temper yourself in connections - not getting attached recklessly and quickly - also intimidates people for some reason. the mystery that surrounds you seems to be linked to your introversion, but also your knowledge and philosophies. you can focus on what you want or how you feel and just go for it. these moves are in silence. behind the scenes. and you seem to be on a steady path of figuring yourself out and improving yourself every time someone sees you. you’re dedicated to finding motivation, love, and dependency on yourself. for yourself. others who might struggle to build their self esteem views your self improvement as a threat because they compare themselves to you and feel as though they’re a mess compared to you. or way more immature. even if they’re older than you.

cards: 8 of wands, the magician, 2 of pentacles

honestly, pile two, i feel like people are prevented spiritually from trying to tear you down. they might try their shit once or twice, but there’s something that manifests in their life to show them that they tried the wrong one. you guys have karmic energy on your side. when people do try to tear you down, they do it in such a sudden way. this is similar to the way that people try to tear down pile one. people will try to switch up on you and then get hit with that return to sender. they try to either change or completely end your ability to manifest. your valuable resources - whether that’s time, money, energy, etc. because they know that if they drain these things, they’re putting a blockage in your path for you. judging by the wise energy that i get from you, you could experience a lot of people relying on you for advice. the ones who don’t reciprocate that energy when it’s needed are the ones who want to drain you. it’s like they’re trying to take your intelligence, your knowledge, to use as a way to get onto the level that they view you on. they might also become very invasive. i’m ngl, some of these people could try to put some type of magick or witchcraft onto you. but the scales are always balanced. they try to fuck with your balance in your practical life in some way, so when that return to sender is activated, that’s what they experience for themselves. especially with their money and practical aspects of their day-to-day human life. you don’t have anything to worry about in terms of people who try to tear you down. they’re never successful.

if you’d like a private reading, please read my pinned post 💞

[cosmicjoke]

Another change they made to Levi's ending that I wanted to talk about, and that I loved, was the birds flying over head, with him, Gabi and Falco watching them.

We see Levi look up at them, and I feel like it's the fulfillment of his own philosophy, his own belief in the sanctity and value of life. I feel like, with that final shot of him, looking up at those birds, at the sight of life thriving, despite the devastating destruction and loss of life they all experienced not so long before, it's like the narrative affirming that Levi was always right.

Throughout the story, Levi was diametrically opposed to Zeke in their beliefs and philosophy, Zeke representing the idea of life being meaningless and worthless, Levi representing the idea of life having intrinsic meaning and worth. And I feel like that final shot, with the birds, and with Levi looking up at them with maybe the most contented expression he's ever worn, is a confirmation of Levi's belief and what he represented within the story, that life matters, that life is worth living, that life is worth protecting and cherishing and fighting for, and a rejection of Zeke's belief, that life is meaningless and worthless and nothing but cruelty. Levi won against Zeke in more ways than one, then. Not just physically. He won against Zeke's nihilism and cruelty. His beauty won against Zeke's ugliness.

I think that's also part of what makes Levi's ending so powerful and satisfying. It feels right that Levi should win that battle. That compassion and kindness and empathy should defeat bitterness and hate and selfishness. Even if just for Levi's story, that holds true, it's enough to leave the rest of us with hope.

Because I think that's also what Levi represents within the story.

Hope.

He's the best that humanity has to offer.

As ugly as we all can be, as cruel and heartless and uncaring, there's always the exception, always the example of what a person can be beyond that cruelty and heartlessness, in spite of the cruelty and heartlessness. And in Attack on Titan, that person is Levi. He's that exception.

Levi is relatable to us, not because he's like us, necessarily, but because he's what we hope and strive to become. He's like a shining light in the darkness. He's that person who shows us we can be better, who shows us the way to being better.

In many ways, Levi is the beating heart and soul of Attack on Titan. He's that little bit of hope in the story, that maybe, some day, some how, we really will all find a way to live, showing greater compassion and kindness to one another. That's Levi. By being the best of us, he shows us we can be better too.

[bendydudeinc]

This is my first time asking for something, but could you write about Izuku x Reader trapped in a small space, perhaps like a quirk accident that happened, and Izuku and reader were both trapped in a box or room, it could be anything. Or like after class and have to hide in a cabinet or anything related to that ig. If you want, of course, could I be smut. It's up to you if you want to add kinks, but I really like this idea, and I've had it for a while. I hope ots not weird. Thanks, and good luck! ☆

I gotchu😏 I got a bit ahead of myself with this one, hopefully it isn’t too far off what you wanted!

Boxed in with #1

PAIRING: Izuku x AFAB nonbinary reader

CONTENT: SMUT BARELY ANY PLOT, you and pro hero Izuku get stuck in a quirk accident together

CONTENT WARNINGs: Praise, size kink, slight public play, claiming/cum kink, sex in tight places, slight choking kink, consent is hot as hell, vocal Izuku is a sweetie during sex, reader is called darling, baby

H/n - hero name

=====================

You walked down the streets of Tokyo with your head up confidently, scanning for possible crime or anything abnormal. Fans pointed as their faces lit up, squealing when you turn to wave in their direction. You smiled to yourself, you loved being a hero. It made you feel so happy to see people that looked up to you, that felt moved by your ideologies and heroic efforts. You were so grateful that you made it up the hero chart so quick, but it still felt so surreal to you sometimes. So surreal that you’re really a pro hero. The number ten hero, h/n. It felt even more surreal that you graduated along side and were now working with Japan’s number one hero, Deku. You pressed on the small intercom device used for communication in your ear.

“Everything good over there number one?” The intercom sizzled before you got a response.

“Good here h/n, no new activity to report. You want to grab a bite? It’s about lunch already.”

Your face lights up, “Yeah, I’d like that. Wanna get some Katsudon?”

You giggled when he excitedly agreed, making your way to the restaurant you’d always go to together for his favorite food. You shook your head in attempt dismissal of any romantic thoughts of him. You knew that you two were just friends and worked together, but you couldn’t help the electricity you felt every time you were around him. The urge to melt into your seat whenever he made eye contact. The dorky smile that wouldn’t leave your face no matter how hard you tried as you listened to him fanboy. The warmth you felt in your heart when he showed his concern and care for you. His passionate personality and sincerity drew you like a moth to a flame. You couldn’t even help yourself from staring at his tall, strong, toned figure at times. His muscles were huge, but not obnoxious. His eyes and smile were absolutely gorgeous, you’d stare and giggle like a four year old for hours at them if you could. His jawline could probably cut the tension you had in half too. He looked like a God. You swore he’d caught you a couple times, to which you got flustered like crazy and completely brushed it off. You didn’t know he’d smirk to himself, definitely aware that you check him out. Everything about him just drove you crazy. You may have been a hero team, but the chemistry below the surface was blossoming like bunches of daisies every minute you spent together.

You arrived near the entrance to the restaurant, waving at Deku as he noticed you approaching and smiled. That expression quickly changed to seriousness and worry, and before you could ask, blue electricity formed around him and he was tackling you onto the pavement. You flinched, Deku shielding your fall as much as possible. You groaned and opened your eyes to see…nothing…..pitch black.

“Deku? Is this a villain attack?!” You started to get up to prepare for a fight, but bumped hard into Deku above you who groaned in pain, your hands then feeling around the solid cold walls at your sides that trapped you.

“I think someone’s quirk went out of control! The woman I saw across the street didn’t look like she had malicious intent, but I saw this…cement stuff coming out of both of her hands. She looked panicked.” Deku did his best to stabilize himself above you as you hit your hand against the hard cement on your sides, though to no avail.

“My quirk won’t be any good for this. You can use yours, would work perfect for this right?” You ask in a slight panic.

“Not when I’m s-so close in proximity to someone. There’s not enough space for me to safely use my power without hurting you, possibly seriously injuring you. Let’s wait here until someone can help or t-that lady figures out how to free us.”

You looked up to where his face would be in the dark, his stuttering making you now very aware of how close he is to you. You could feel his breath on your face, his legs and hips on yours. Your face burned red, and you prayed that he couldn’t see you too, or hear your breathing slowly getting heavier. You tried to shift your position but in the dark, not so easy. You nudged Deku off his balance, making him fall directly on top of you. His head fell into in the crook of your neck, waist and chest pressing against yours snuggly. The feel of his lips right next to your skin sent chills down your spine, butterflies pooling in your lower tummy. You bit your lip hard. He made a surprised sound and quickly propped himself on both of his forearms. You heard him start to stammer out an apology, but your body reacted without you being able to control it. You sighed out loud, your hips slightly rocking up to grind against his; too overwhelmed by the excitement of finally feeling him against you to realize what you’re doing.

“H-hey, what are you- crap.” His arms flexed on either sides of your head. You wanted to cry. You were so embarrassed, but you didn’t say anything. You were too scared too..until your eyes widened when you felt something press against your crotch. All fears of judgement and embarrassment slowly disappeared. Did he…like this?

He made a quiet noise of arousal as he began to cautiously grind down onto you, “You…you sneaky thing. Oh gods~”

Your body flutters with pleasure at the sound, hearing him so close to your ear. It was all so good, the sexual tension building for months finally slipping as you let the heat take over. You almost couldn’t believe your best friend and the number one hero really felt this way about you like you did for him. He began kissing your neck, nipping teasingly at your skin, listening for when he hit your sensitive spots. You suck in a breath and whine, tilting your head back when he latched onto one. He groaned, pulling away slowly after leaving a nice purple mark that he’d later aqpologize for. He doesn’t know his own strength

He hummed, happy with the reaction he got from you. He continued kissing your neck, stopping to whisper sweet nothings in your ear in between. “Hey I- I’ve always wanted you. I stare at your lips a lot because I wish more than anything to kiss them. I dream about holding you, about making you feel good. Making you- making you moan my name. I want this with you. I wanna make you feel better than anyone else could ever h-hope to measure up to. Fuck- I need more of you baby, please tell me..do you want me?”

You writhed under him in response, feeling your pussy clench around nothing. He wrapped one of his hands gently around your throat, earning a hard tug on his curls. The harsh grind of his cock against you said he liked it. He tightened his grip, his long fingers sinking into the sides of your neck. You were in shock, falling headfirst deep into the hole of lust, you could barely even think.

“Answer me my darling please talk to me, I want you s-so bad. Tell me. Do you want me? Want me to make you f-feel good?” He panted, struggling to shift, but managing to grab both of your arms, pinning them at your sides as you experimentally wrapped your legs around him. You moaned, the feeling of him keeping you down making you feel so small. His erection only grew, teasing your clit as he sensually moved against you. Your thighs twitched in anticipation around him.

You want to scream with joy as you reply, “Yes! Yes I’ve always wanted you so bad, I feel the same way Deku please, keep touching me?”

He moaned at your confession, gripping your arms tighter and rutting his hips into yours. By then, your eyes had adjusted to the dark, able to make out the side of his face and some of his hair. You figured it was the same for him as he pulled back as much as he could to lock eyes with you. His beautiful green eyes glowed lime with desire when he saw how needy you looked. He grinned wide, his expression shifting to one of confidence and determination. He leaned in to kiss you, and you felt like your entire body exploded with fireworks as your lips met his. You both moaned and whined into the kiss, deepening it as he showed his dominance over you, his tongue overpowering yours. You began struggling against his hold, wanting to challenge him. He pushed down on your arms harder, re-enforcing his power over you. You moan loudly nto the kiss, and he couldn’t help but laugh, backing away to observe you.

“Y-you really like that don’t you? Knowing I can hold you down like this?” His tone was curious, but demanding. You stared into his dilated desperate eyes, nodding your head frantically.

“Mmmm, do I have consent to do whatever I want with you honey?” He cooed into your ear, making you whimper uncontrollably, bucking your hips in need for him.

“Fuck. Yes Izuku please have your way with me, I want you to fuck your cum deep inside of me and make me all yours! I’ve been waiting so long…too long..do whatever you want!”

His eyes darkened, letting out the most slutty, strangled moan you’ve ever heard. He let go of your arms, scrambling to slip off your costume from the waist down. You helped him as he balanced on one hand to unzip his as well. You still couldn’t see completely clear in the dark, but you could tell he was big as he pulled his leaking cock out. It looked really thick. It made your mind race, almost cumming right then as you imagined the stretch. He started rubbing the length up and down your swollen clit, hissing as it got coated in your slick. You were going brain dead, whining like a dog as he teased your poor desperate hole.

“Don’t worry, it’s gonna feel so good I promise darling. Gonna stretch out your wet pussy s-so good ok? I love you. I love you, gonna make you all mine baby.” All you could do was nod, practically crying for him to put it in.

He whispered in your ear, “Hang onto me.” You obliged, wrapping your arms around his large shoulders as he slipped it inside of you. The feeling was inhuman, like a rubber band was going to snap so hard inside of you it might make you see heaven. You scratched down his back hard, each inch making you see a new galaxy of stars as you cried out. He moaned loud, resisting from pounding into you. Both of you lost in this moment, completely forgot that this is happening in…public.

He groans and shivers. “Doing so good baby look at you sucking me in. Almost all the way. D-does that feel good?”

“Yes! You feel so g-good Izuku oh my god. S’big, the stretch is gonna m-make me cum~”

He blushed hard, unaware before that his dick being girthier than average could be such a turn on for somebody.

“Good. I’m so glad. Go on then, feel good b-baby cum on me. Cum on my cock so hard.” He slammed the rest of his length inside of you and began a medium pace, mouth opening in a silent scream as he heard the lewd noises your dripping cunt made. Your bodies felt so right meshing together; you moaned in harmony, your scratching motivating him to go faster. He kissed you deeply to quiet some of your screams as you came almost immediately, the pleasure of him ramming precisely into your g spot too much for you to handle. You gasped as he pulled back to catch his breath.

You needed him. More. You needed him so bad it hurt. “Oh my god- oh my god cum inside of me Izuku! Please! Fill me up, I need it! Gonna cum again with you~!”

His hips stuttered, gripping your waist with the strength to leave a mark as his eyes rolled back, whimpering into your ear as he fucked into you harder than ever. Slap slap slap could probably be heard by anyone within a twenty foot distance. He choked out a loud moan and came inside of you. His last thrust was almost unbearably rough, holding you still on his cock as it sat deep inside of you, cumming against your most sensitive spots. You were too lost in the moment to even realize he had moved slightly to play with your clit, making you squirt as he came, the rubber band snapping hard as you gushed around his cock. He collapsed completely on top of you, both of your cum and juices leaking from around his cock and down your ass and thighs. You both laid together, holding each other close and giggling from the love drunk feeling.

“Did you- did you like that?” He asked as he caught his breath, kissing your neck sweetly.

“You- you’re wondering that while you just made me squirt, Izuku.”

You both laughed and continued praising each other, almost forgetting that help was supposed to come soon. Neither of you complained

“Oh and Izuku? I love you too.”

[trendywaifus]

hello !! could i request sfw and nsfw relationship headcanons for tingyun ? i love her so much but there’s not a lot of content for her </3

there isn’tttttt, i wish we had more content for herrr and you’re only one who reqed for her! gahhhh! yae and tingyun’s designs are so good, I love fox girls :>

— well well, you managed to swoon tungyun, why aren’t you lucky! as good as she is in dealing with people everyday as the amicassador and keeping her feelings at check so often, she never expected herself to fall in love with you. then again, how could she not when you’re so wonderful? you’re like a breath of fresh air.

— tingyun is a affectionate partner and she sees no reason to hide the fact that you’re her lover. honestly, i see people interested in her on the daily because of how well-spoken and beautiful she is but too bad her heart is only for one person!

— she loves chilling with you in the sleepless earl tea house. tingyun has so many stories to share and most of em consist of how goofy some of the locals can be. she still can’t believe that someone told her she looks like she’s related to a fox shrine maiden on some novel that she’s never heard before. you want to know why they even thought that? because she’s also a “ fox woman “ who has the “ same aesthetic” as the aforementioned maiden. that gotta be racist right?

— she loves cuddles after a long day! tingyun relishes at the thought of resting her head on your chest while you stroke her ears and scratch around the base of them, the feeling is like sweet heaven. she purrs, her brown tail swaying side to side in delight.

— has a thing for neck kisses, or hell your neck in general! kissing at the sensitive spots on your neck and feeling you shiver against her makes her feel a type of way. she wants to mark you so bad but she can’t, it’ll expose too much. she rather mark you in places only she can see.

— she def scents you, yup that’s right, gatekeeping yo ahh. if non-foxian tries to flirt with you or anybody in that matter, they’re met with a immediate passive-aggressive verbal attack from her.

— tingyun lets you groom her fur!! it’s one of her fav activities with you. she finds it so domestic when y’all sit and you comb her tail with delicacy. sometimes she gets so happy, she wags her tail and it ends up swiping against your nose. tingyun scrambles to apologize to you while you sneeze nonstop.

“ a-ah, i’m so sorry darling! “ tingyun quickly turns around to you sneezing, she smiles sheepishly. “ it appears like my tail has a mind of its own it, h-haha! “ your sneezes dies down after a few moments and she takes the chance to cup your cheek, tracing circles against your cheekbone apologetically. “ i’m fine, yunyun’, no need to apologize. “ you send her a reassuring smile, kissing the inside of her wrist. your hands found her waist, “ though, may i have a kiss for compensation? “ tingyun giggles, dropping her hand to your thighs and motioned closer to your face, her jade eyes sparking with mischief. “ gladly, my love. “

nsfw

— switch. she’s a switch but she’s leaning towards the submissive side though. tingyun enjoys being spoiled if it’s by you! it’s part of her nature to shamelessly indulge herself in certain things like this. oh, how she loves it when you lure her in by the waist, traveling your hand near her tail and describe to her how much you want her laid out on the bed seeing stars.

— loves it when you praise her while she’s giving you head, pleasuring you by rubbing her pussy against yours, or when you’re deep inside of her. when you tell her how good she’s doing with that enticing smile on your lips it drives her crazy.

— if you merely play with her tail and ears with a lil technique, she’ll cum on the spot. she’s sensitive in the right hands.

— tingyun’s a scratcher, she doesn’t do it intentionally but she claws at your back or anything she can get her hands on. she’ll sulk if she ruins one of her fav sheets and blankets. if she scratches your back to the point of bleeding, she makes up for it x100. she tries to cut her nails every so often to avoid it.

— oh, did i say that tingyun’s also a creamer?

[genericpuff]

I don't know the term for creators who became popular outside the traditional steps to "make it" in their profession; then when people started taking their work seriously and giving them criticism, these creators saw it as an attack because they are not used to mentors and studies.

Smythe's professional training is vague at best, being a folklorist. Then there's the creator of the popular hell cartoon that became her own executive producer and director in her 20s (I'm not going to say her name since it tends to attract her rabid fans) and becomes reactive to any kind of criticism on Twitter. Then there's that TikToker Devon Rodriguez, who became popular for sketching people on subways, and when an art critic gave a mild review to his art gallery, Devon unleashed his fans on him.

Like am I seeing a pattern here for artists? And I guess, what do you think we can learn from it.

Ah, so this is a very interesting (and broad) topic that we've touched on in discussions in ULO and other webtoon-related communities. So buckle up, it's time for an ✨essay✨

I think the best way I can sum up my thoughts on this issue is: the vast majority of people who become paid content creators don't seek out a job as content creators, a job in content creation is just something that happens to them.

I say "content creation" because this is something that applies to a lot of other platforms and online mediums as well, such as the examples you included (TikTok, Youtube, Twitch, etc.). And don't get me wrong, it's not like every successful content creator out there didn't work their asses off to get to where they are, but for many... it still involves an element of luck. People don't go to school for it, people don't "apply" to become influencers, and much of it relies entirely on just making stuff until it gets seen and propelled into success.

I think a lot of these issues arise with the creators themselves and how they view their own work. The reality is that many of us artists have been treated as the "rejects" of society, we constantly feel like we're misunderstood and have some deep inner pain that we express through our art, and instead of going to therapy, we come up with OC's. It's a lot more fun and it's a lot cheaper LOL Webcomics naturally wind up being the perfect lightning rod for people who feel that way, where we can pour ourselves into the characters, the world, the narrative, in a way that perfectly mixes our talents for art and our need to express our innermost thoughts and feelings about ourselves and the world around us. So when our art gets criticized or rejected ... it can be hard for a lot of artists to not feel like it's a criticism of the self, a rejection of our identities, an attack on our feelings and experiences, because we've tied so much of ourselves to our work. And this can make that transition very difficult for people who are trying to go pro, because being professional demands separating yourself from your work, at least enough that you can view it objectively, recognize its flaws, seek out pathways to improvement, and not take every bump in the road personally.

A lot of successful creators are people who just never made that transition. It's led to an abundance of professional creators who know how to film themselves or react to content or, in the case of webcomic artists, write stories about their OC's, but don't know how to actually navigate the industry at a professional level. They don't know how to read and negotiate contracts, they don't know what deals are actually good for them and which ones are better left on the table, they don't know how to manage teams of people, they don't know how to react to the attention, praise, and criticism of their audience - they're just doing what they've always done, but now they're making money doing it.

None of this is to speak ill in any way of the creators who've found success and are still just doing what they've always done for money. None of this is meant to be a slight on the creators who are using webcomics and art as an expression of their deeper selves (I do it myself, it's very cathartic!) because ultimately that's what makes your work your work, the fact that you made it, with all your good parts and bad. Many of these creators are capable of running their platform without any issues because they've learned how to play the game, or because their platform is made up of people just like them so their audience is more like just a social circle.

But many of them still also can't operate on a professional level and those are the ones we often see getting called out and held accountable when they do shit like, I dunno, scamming their audiences for money or making alt accounts to manipulate user reviews or plagiarizing from other people's work or just being really REALLY shitty to their own audience.

Often times these are people who are just doing what they'd normally do as a hobby, became well known for it, and managed to turn it into a living. But they never actually learned how to turn their hobby into a job, and themselves into professionals.

And artists especially are prone to this because, let's face it, a lot of us are just weebs having fun drawing our blorbos, so of course if we get a chance to monetize that, we're gonna! We should! We should want to be paid for our work and time and efforts!

But we also have to remember that it's a different ballgame, especially if you're turning your audience into customers. "I'm just a baby creator doing this for fun" doesn't and shouldn't apply anymore once you start signing contracts, selling your art as products, taking people's money to fund your projects, etc. because now it's not just your art, it's what you're expecting people to pay for so you can eat and pay your bills and live.

As much as our art is often personal and should be cherished as such, you can't expect people to want to pay for it if you're not setting a bar and meeting it, or if you're not treating your audience with any amount of dignity or respect.

I'm not saying you're not entitled to having feelings or still wanting to treat your art as art, but the line between art and products is there for a reason, it's to set people's expectations and ensure that both sides are having those expectations met. Webtoon creators suffer from the same thing that a lot of Youtube creators and other types of content creators suffer from in this transition, and I feel like HBomberGuy summed it up best:

"In current discourse, Youtubers simultaneously present as the forefront of a new medium, creative voices that need to be taken seriously as part of the 'next generation of media' - and also uwu smol beans little babies who shouldn't be taken seriously when they rip someone off and make tens of thousands of dollars doing it."

It's not gatekeeping a medium, it's not telling people they aren't allowed to have feelings or to want to still have that personal connection to their work in spite of the professional level it's achieved, it's simply just expecting people to actually live up to the label of 'professional' that they're using to make money.

And this especially goes for someone like Rachel, who claims to be a 'folklorist' despite all the contrary evidence that says otherwise. This is the same person who copy pasted the first result on Google as her source on a simple word definition:

There's a second part to that HBomberGuy quote that also actually applies to Rachel really well in this discussion, concerning how she labels herself a "folklorist" and how that's affected and influenced the greater discussion surrounding Greek myth:

"But on the opposite end, Youtubers who act like serious documentarians gain a shroud of professionalism which then masks the deeply unprofessional things they do. We just saw that with James. I think [James] partially got away with what he's doing for so long because he acts so professional about it, so people assume, 'there's no way he could just be stealing shit!' so they don't check. And on top of that, a lot of James' videos contain obvious mistakes and made-up facts... but because they're often presented next to well-researched stuff he stole, no one questions it. I've seen James repeat a lie in his videos, and then other people claim it's true, and link his video as the proof. He has helped to solidify misinformation by seeming like he's doing his diligence."

There's always going to be discourse over what's legitimate and what isn't when it comes to Greek myth, there are loads of things we still don't know simply due to the knowledge being lost to time. But there's something to be said about a white New Zealand woman using her self-insert romance comic and platform to build a veneer of professionalism and legitimacy around herself, as if she's the authority on the subject, while simultaneously relying on first result Google searches and citing works that have no real foothold in the way of scholarly or "folklorist" discussion.

All that's to say, you're right, her professional training is vague at best. She's never completed a longform comic prior to LO, she's not doing her due diligence in actually engaging with the media she's trying to "retell" and exposing herself to the voices of those from the culture that's tied to it, and she's not holding herself to any sort of standards when it comes not only to being a professional, but a professional who's been held on a pedestal for all these years. She's still operating the same way she was 5 years ago - drawing and writing whatever pops into her head and sending it to her editor for uploading, with next to no intervention or guidance. Except now it doesn't have the benefit of being new and having "potential", it's getting noticed and called out more now than ever because it's been 5 years of this shit and it's been getting worse on account of her clearly being burnt out (or just giving up/not caring) and the readers can't be sold on "potential" anymore.

And that's all I have to say on that.