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soulmate-game · 3 years

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Hawkmoth was a bitch, and Marinette meant that with every fiber of her soul. Fu was also a bitch, and Marinette actually had good memories of the guy. Not many, but she had some. The fact that the guy got two ten-year-olds to become super heroes and fight a supervillain for him kinda soured those memories, though. But with Chat Noir not allowed to leave his house? Yeah, even as young as they were it only took about a year to find out who HawkMoth was and another year to take him down.

Except, that left Marinette alone. The final battle took her mom away, and Chat had to move out of Paris after his dad was arrested. Luckily Jagged allowed her and her papa to move into his house in Gotham, and everything was…

Well, it was okay. For about a month.

Then her dad was gone too, and she had no way to talk to Jagged, and the police were scaring her—

Yeah, that was the basic order of events that led to where she was now. Pushing fourteen years old, ex-superhero, protector of a magical box of gods, stealing the tires off of a very nice motorcycle.

Marinette was tempted to just take the whole thing, she loved bikes and knew she could drive it. But the thing had more security than she knew what to do with, and the fact that it belonged to Red Hood… she didn’t want to deal with trackers today, thanks. So the tires it was.

Should she maybe care more about the fact that she was stealing from a vigilante with a violent streak? Maybe. Did she? Hell no. For all she knew, maybe Red Hood was a bitch too. (Yes, she was still learning English slang. She was fluent by educational standards, but learning how to curse in a foreign language was fun and she still had a little bit to go. Her few street friends were very happy to help).

A shadow dropped down in front of her, and Marinette’s hero instincts kicked in. The tire iron she was using cut through the air, slamming right into the side of Red Hood’s knee.

—*—*—*—*—*

“Hood,” Batman’s voice grumbled over the comms, instantly grabbing the attention of everyone else who was on the comms. It wasn’t as gruff as he usually sounded, in fact it almost sounded like… he was trying not to laugh?

“Did you get gassed by Joker?” Dick asked before Jason got a chance to respond. “Need backup?”

“No,” Batman responded, sounding a little more composed. “Not a rogue. But Hood, I need you to join me at my location as soon as possible.”

Finally getting the chance to talk, Jason responded a little warily; “Sure, B. Wait,” he blinked at the location that was sent to him. “Isn’t that where my bike is parked?”

Batman didn’t respond at first, only the sound of labored breathing— again, as if he was trying not to laugh. “Just get here, Hood.”

Sighing, but not too mad since the night had been fairly quiet so far, Jason decided to humor the old man and head over. When he could see the cape-clad back of Batman, he easily leapt over the last roof and sauntered over.

“Okay, B,” he had his thumbs tucked in his pockets as he drawled. “What’s the issue?”

Batman was grinning. As in, actually showing amusement. And he just pointed down, straight at Hood’s bike.

Jason rolled his eyes under his helmet, turning to look. At first he didn’t see anything amiss, until he saw movement and looked harder. Oh. Oh, holy shit.

“Is that a kid?”

“Yep,” Batman’s grin grew.

“Is she… stealing my tires?” Hood was so, so glad he wore a helmet that hid his expression. Because… wow.

“Yep,” Batman finally lost his composure, chuckling. “This seems like Karma, don’t you think?”

“And you just watched her so you could rub it in,” Jason groaned, throwing his head back in exasperation. Of course he would. Nobody knew it (except the other heroes who knew him) but Batman was a petty little jerk when he wanted to be. He bought the whole Daily Planet just to spite Clark, for crying out loud.

“Don’t adopt her,” Batman said as he stood up, patting Red Hood’s shoulder. “It looks like she’s almost done.”

“Shit,” Jason hissed, looking down to see that she was, actually, very close to being done. She had already had one tire completely free by the time he had arrived, and now she was only seconds away from getting the other one completely free.

He took a quick assessment— she was tiny, and really thin. Definitely a street kid, he thought, though he didn’t recognize her. He knew most of the street kids that stole to get by, nowadays, which meant she must have been fairly new. But even though she seemed to know what she was doing, her small frame made her take longer unscrewing the tires than it normally would have taken. Sure that she wasn’t a threat by any stretch of the imagination, he jumped down. His plan had been to startle her a little by showing up out of nowhere, but he didn’t want to scare her too badly. Just make her jump a little.

But he had underestimated her, it seemed. Without wasting a second, she jumped up and swung her tire iron at his knee. He cursed, she was a lot faster than her had been expecting. He was able to move so that the weapon only clipped the side of his knee, his knee pad thankfully taking the worst of it. She still hit hard enough to make him stumble and hiss in pain though, which was an accomplishment.

That’s when she abandoned her weapon and her tires, darting to try and escape only for Batman to drop down and block her escape. Though really, it was the grin Batman had that scared the girl most of all, apparently, making her slowly back away from him.

“Please stop smiling,” she begged with a faint French accent to her words. “It is not natural.”

That made Red Hood laugh, already recovered and right behind her. He plopped a gloved hand on her head.

“I know, it’s creepy right?” He joked. “What’cha doin’ stealing my tires, kid? I kinda need them to drive anywhere,” he was careful to keep his voice light and devoid of any anger. He wasn’t really upset, all told. It would be hypocritical of him if he was.

She looked between the two vigilantes for a moment, clear intelligence behind those bright blue eyes as she seemed to consider something. Suddenly she pulled away from Red Hood and stepped away from his reach, straightening up and trying to look tall.

“My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she said as firmly as she could. “My father was Tom Dupain, he was killed in a mugging three months ago. We were living in a house that our family friend leant to us after my mother’s death six months ago, and we moved here from Paris. I haven’t been able to contact him, and the police… I don’t trust them,” she admitted, clearly seeing this as the chance she had been waiting for. “I have been living on the streets since my father died. I am sorry for trying to steal your tires, Monsieur Red Hood. But it was a risk I had to take.”

“Did you expect us to catch you?” He asked, crossing his arms as he re-evaluated the girl. She was a lot stronger than he had assumed earlier, both physically and mentally. She seesawed her hand to indicate ‘kinda’.

“Even if you didn’t, I could make good money off your tires,” she justified with a shrug. “To me, I would win either way.”

“Who is your family friend? Can he help you now, take you in?” Batman asked, moving forward and kneeling down to be closer to Marinette’s height. Neither he nor Jason had missed the part where she was an orphan, but they had expected that considering what they had caught her doing. And they both knew that she wasn’t likely to take any apologies they tried to offer very well. It was best not to show pity, or she might get angry.

Marinette frowned. “... Our family friend is Jagged Stone. He lets me call him Uncle Jagged,” she told them, clearly expecting the disbelieving grunts they gave. “I mean it! You can call him, he might even be looking for me! I—“

“We know,” Hood assured her, now kneeling down as well. Man, she was short. “Calm down, we know you’re telling the truth. Jagged has made several public announcements about his missing honorary niece, we just didn’t recognize your name right away. And Jagged doesn’t have access to very many pictures of you, those he does have the Mayor isn’t allowing him to show because that spineless jackass—“

“Language, Hood.”

“—Cares more about keeping bad press off the air than finding a kid, even if it’s a world famous rockstar who’s asking. That’s probably why you haven’t heard anything, the mayor’s keeping it off the radio and not many reporters are brave enough to take the story and get on his bad side.”

“Oh…” Marinette took a deep breath, fighting the tears that were threatening to rise up. “He has been looking…” she sniffled, curling in on herself a little. “Can you take me to him?”

“I think we can do that,” Batman agreed, standing up. “I’ll contact him. Red Hood, can you handle everything here until I give you a place to meet up with Jagged Stone?”

Jason nodded. “No problem, B. Come on, little rabid pixie. Step one of gettin’ you back to your uncle is to help me fix my bike back up.”

Marinette sighed, shoulders dropping. “All my hard work, undone…” she playfully complained. But in the end she didn’t argue or fight against it, she just sat down and helped him reattach his tires.

All the while, Jason’s family kept teasing him over the comms. Clearly they were also thoroughly amused by the cosmic display of karma.

“...Monsieur Hood,” Marinette asked once they were done repairing the motorcycle and he had given her his too-big extra helmet. He tilted his head a bit to show he was listening. She squirmed. “Can… can we stop by my hideout? I have something really important I have to get.”

Jason smiles gently under his mask. She might not have been a street kid for very long, but she really did bring back some memories for him. He got on his bike and held a hand out to her.

“Sure thing kid. Wanna grab something to eat after? Can’t have a reunion on an empty stomach.”

She gave him a lopsided smile— not quite overjoyed, but definitely hopeful and thankful. Maybe this was the end of her streak of bad luck, she could only hope.

“Only if you don’t mind, Monsieur Hood,” she agreed before taking his hand and letting him help her onto the bike.

“No skin off my back, pixie,” he assured her. Then they were off. He followed her directions until they got to an abandoned building about three miles away, not in a good part of town at all but at least not in crime alley. Marinette easily led him through the building, skirting around other piles of ratty blankets and up broken stairs until they got to the badly-maintained top floor. She led him over to an almost invisible door in the concrete wall that pulled out to reveal what was probably a broom closet once upon a time. It was crowded with what looked like junk and empty boxes, along with a few blankets and two or three changes of clothes that were clearly her’s. A few belongings scattered around— a book, a small pink purse, and… Marinette came out of the pile of mess holding what had clearly been a very carefully hidden box. She also grabbed the purse and slung it over her shoulder, but didn’t seem worried about anything else.

Jason frowned at the box. It wasn’t that big, but it was clearly made of old wood. There were intricate carvings that were painted pink, in a symbol that was itching at the back of his mind. He recognized that symbol, but from where?

“Ready to go, kid?” He asked as he thought about it, getting a nod from Marinette. Twenty minutes later they were at a Batburger, sitting in a shaded booth that couldn’t be seen from the street.

She never let the box out of her sight. She kept it on the seat next to her, and Jason noticed that she tried to keep one hand on it at all times. But when she spoke, now her French accent stood out to him even more than before. But why—?

And then it clicked. Paris. Hawkmoth. Ladybug, Chat Noir, magic artifacts called Miraculous. Wonder Woman had raised a fuss when the heroes disappeared, declaring that something was wrong but she couldn’t put her finger on what. Then the magic users they trusted were called in, and returned from Paris with the grim news that the former Guardian of those artifacts had activated a failsafe and passed the guardianship on to someone else while erasing his own memories at the same time. But nobody knew who he could have passed it on to, so Batman had been given the green light to do all the research he and his team could into the Miraculous box to try and help track it down.

And here it was. The carvings were in pink now, which might have been the “cosmetic change” that Constantine had mentioned might happen when the box changed guardians. He had found the box full of super powerful magical artifacts… in the hands of a newly orphaned street kid who couldn’t have been older than fourteen at best.

What the hell?

“...” Red hood reached into his pocket and pulled out an old receipt and a sharpie. He scrawled on the back of the receipt and handed to Marinette. The girl was halfway into a bite of her burger when he did, and blinked at him owlishly before swallowing and cautiously reaching out to grab it. She frowned at the numbers scrawled there.

“What’s this?” She asked.

“My contact info,” he explained. “I won’t ask questions about why you have that box,” he watched her instantly stiffen but continued as casually as he could; “but it doesn’t matter. You can call me if you ever need help with anything, kid. Help with that box, help if you get in trouble in Gotham again, or even if you’re having a bad day. You can call me for whatever, got it? I don’t care if you think it’s stupid, if you can’t talk to anyone else in your life you can always call or text me and I’ll do whatever I can. Got it?”

“...” Marinette sniffled for a second and looked down at the table in silence for a second. “... what if I want your motorcycle?” she joked, but the watery tone of her voice gave her away.

Jason laughed, patting her head. “I need my bike, but we can talk about getting you your own once you are old enough to get a license. You almost done? Bats says that Jagged is ready to meet you, I can take you to him right now.”

“Yeah, lets go!” she was newly energized and shoved the last bite of burger into her mouth greedily. “And Red Hood?” She asked as they headed out to where he had parked.

“Yeah, kid?”

“Thanks.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Permanent tag list (I remembered it this time!)

@rosalineandrosemary @neakco @justanotherfanficlovinbitch @trippingovermyfeet @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @bigpicklebananatree @fantasylover-92 @prongs-flowers @jumpingjoy82 @prettylittlebutterflie @queenz-z @literaryhiraeth @waffelyunsure @deathssilentapproach-blog @waiting247 @theirlmikan @unoriginalmess

#maribat #ml x dc #mlb x dc #dc x mlb #dc x miraculous #soulmate-game #platonic jasonette

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troubatrain · 3 years

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the times when things got hard...

two blurbs following want you to want me

read the rest here!

Matthew was having a hard time.

Everything was just bad. Changes were coming in Calgary and Matthew was falling behind for the first time in his life. He was down to the third line, he couldn’t score a goal to save his life, and while he was falling apart - he was enviously watching you succeed. Matthew had maybe three more weeks until you’d be at his doorstep from a training camp you had to attend. He was being patient, trying desperately not to call and make you feel upset for not being there when he was having a rough time. He’d been on his own for long enough, Matthew knew how to handle it, but everything was different now.

You were the first person Matthew talked to in the morning and the last one he talked to before bed. Your apartments in your cities had both of your names on the leases. Every piece of the homes were littered with relics of both of your accomplishments. Those things were important to your relationship, but the only thing Matthew had yet to do was lean on you for emotional support when he really needed it. Chantal once told you it might never happen, years of watching his father come home with nothing short of a smile on his face and advice to his kids to just leave it on the ice.

And you were fine with that.

Well, you were trying to be fine with it. You knew Matthew was having trouble, cringing when you saw him snap a stick in half in the penalty box the night before. He had bags under his eyes, exhaustion clear in his voice over Facetime right after. Those things were obvious, but when you were bed alone and Matthew didn’t ask you once for phone sex, you knew he was down bad. So you snuck a flight to Canada, keeping your secret to yourself until you unlocked the door to your shared apartment.

You put your things away quietly, throwing on a pair of Matthew’s sweats you were secretly missing because all of the ones you’d stolen just didn’t smell like him anymore. You missed him more than you realized, down the way he always made your coffee in the morning, and even though it wasn’t the way you usually drank it - you took it with a smile.

Then you heard a door slam, causing you to jump. You’d caught the last bit of the game in the car, listening to the radio with your cab driver who had nothing kind to say about the current state of the city’s hockey team. It wasn’t pretty, a ten minute major throwing Matthew out of the game and just as you suspected, he was pissed.

“Babe?” You call out, stepping out the bedroom and taking Matthew in. Fresh black eye, cut above his brow making it clear that even if he’d won that fight it wasn’t pretty. His tie was long gone, loose around his neck with a few buttons undone. He looked sad, a deep sigh leaving his body when he finally saw you.

Matthew didn’t say a word, emotionally overwhelmed to the point where he was speechless. You were standing right in front of him, like he desperately needed you to be. He didn’t have to ask, beg for you to be there for him, and something about that was so important to Matthew he didn’t have a word to describe it.

“I’m awful,” Matthew mumbled, pressing his head into your neck. You could feel the tears freely flowing from his eyes. Your heart was breaking, a guilt washing over you that maybe you could have been there sooner.

“Matty, you’re having a tough time right now but that doesn’t mean shit and you know that,” You try to reason with him, running your fingers through his overgrown curls. He shook his head no, his fingers digging into your hips, “Babe look at me.”

“No,” Matthew shook his head again, and you just took a deep breath, “Everyone wants me out of here, you’ll probably be next.”

You grab his hand, holding it out for that same silly handshake Matthew made up when you started dating. His lips twitched, forming a smirk while he slapped his hand against yours. Left, right, and a sweet kiss to your lips just like he always did, “I’m not going anywhere… except for back to camp.”

“You’re allowed to be here right?” Matthew questions, voice raspy and his lips ghosting over yours. It was a weird guilt he felt, like you’d left before you were supposed to for him and that if you were in some shit it would be his fault. He never wanted to be the reason you felt held back, a constant battle with his own selfish need to want you around but his unselfish want to see you flourish.

“You needed me and I’m here,” You whisper, leaving out the part where you really shouldn’t have left but if you were back by Monday nobody would know you were ever gone. You grab his cheeks, gently wiping away a few stray tears that had fallen from his eyes, “Please don’t ever think you’re a burden for talking to me about the hard times. I’m here for the good and the bad, the way you’re playing isn’t

going to change that.”

“I love you,” Matthew mumbles, pulling you into his chest and pressing his lips to your forehead, “And I missed you so much-”

“I did too, we have some time to make up for, I think,” You look up at Matthew, who had a smug smile and his brows raised at you. His hand landed on your ass, a chuckle following.

“I think my dick missed you the most.”

“I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.”

****

She’s barely even with him.

It was one comment on your instagram photo, some stranger deciding they knew more about your relationship with Matthew than you did. A series of comments followed, all because Matthew insisted on using that stupid rocket emoji on your picture, all of them the same.

I heard it’s all for PR so he doesn’t look like a bad guy.

He’s definitely cheating on her.

It wasn’t just that, things had been hard on you lately. You hadn’t scored in weeks, your loss column just getting higher while wins seemed to slip out from under you. Every part of your body was sore, that terrible habit you had of pushing yourself to the point of exhaustion was hard to break. It was even harder when Matthew was all the way in Canada and he couldn’t be there. You didn’t want to complain about it, there were plenty of times you weren’t there for him and whining wasn’t helping either of you, but you needed to see him.

You deleted the text on your phone a thousand times, a please come see me cry for help that Matthew couldn’t answer. He was on a road trip in New York, and there wasn’t anyway possible he could leave. Besides, it would’ve been unfair to put him in that kind of position.

Except Matthew knew you were struggling, keeping tabs on you while he was away because that was part of being a good boyfriend. Every loss your team took was breaking his heart, and you were way too stubborn to admit when you were upset. Which is why he started with a simple text.

Hey, I love you, and I’m proud of you.

No answer.

Matthew furrowed his brows, laying back on his hotel room bed and wondering if you were mad at him. Did he miss something? There was no way, a promise Matthew made to himself that he wasn’t going to fuck this up for himself by forgetting something as simple as an anniversary. He settled on Facetiming you, and when the phone only rang once before you ended it, he knew you ignored him. He called, two rings before you finally picked up, sniffling into the phone.

“I’m still enough right?” You whisper, your position much like his all the way in New York. You were laying in your bed, the one you’d shared with your boyfriend dozens of times, trying to fight off your own personal demons.

“You’re everything to me, you know that,” Matthew rushed out, his eyes widening at your words, “Babe-”

“You wouldn’t cheat on me?” You ask, Matthew mentally trying to figure out if he could swing a quick trip to Chicago and be back to play the Rangers by seven the next night.

“Never in my fucking life,” Matthew promises, shocked that you’d even think that. You were different, and he didn’t play games when it came to your relationship, “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

“It was just some comments on my Instagram picture about how we’re barely together, and, fuck, Matty they’re right,” You cry, Matthew was silent on the otherside of the phone, “I miss you and I can’t see you and I knew this would happen-”

“They’re not right,” Matthew growls, running a hand through his hair, “Y/N, I love you more than anything else in this world and if you asked me to hang it up tomorrow I would. Except you wouldn’t, because this is special, and fuck what other people have to say about it.”

“Promise?” You whisper, wiping your eyes and taking a deep breath, inhaling whatever scent was left of Matthew’s on his hoodie you were wearing.

“Yeah you’re stuck with me babe,” Matthew hums, smiling when he finally heard you let out a laugh on the other side of the phone, “I’m ordering you dinner, and go relax because you have a game tomorrow.”

“You have one too you know,” You muse, feeling lighter than you did when he called.

“First one to score wins?”

“Oh you’re on!”

“That’s my girl.”

#matthew tkachuk #blurbs #want you to want me blurbs #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

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dreaminpetals · 4 years

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hope this isn't too specific but if possible can you do ronald of ness norton sfw/nsfw hcs? ♥︎

🎩 ronald of ness ー sfw & nsfw hcs

SFW ;;

♡ going off the atropos ropes event, ronald of ness has the personality of a commoner but lives his life disguised as a snobby noble. he hates how high and mighty nobles act and only makes pleasantries with those fools for the money and connections.

♡ from the way he holds his teacups to his posh vocabulary, everyone would assume he was a noble born and bred. yet when ronald is alone he's like a mole who lives in the dirt. all about vulgar speech and being unkempt; feral.

♡ he values wealth and status above all, likely because he grew up poor. so he's going to want to spend his life with someone from a good family that has their pockets lined with gold.

♡ his ideal s/o is a noble who doesn't act like a noble, so he has little to no experience in romance. nobody meets his extraordinary standards for a lover. he isn't one for flings and flirty interactions with strangers, he wants to settle down with someone who accepts him for who he is and can give him a comfortable life. he views his inner circle as shallow snobs who aren't worth his time so i doubt he'd be interested in dating someone from there.

♡ he's a hopeless romantic until he meets you.

♡ his first time meeting you was during one of his performances and you nearly stole the breath from his lungs as he belted out his lines.

♡ he's all about appearances. spotting you in the front row lead to him falling for you on the spot. your shimmering jewellery combined with your formal attire and extravagant hair had this man imagining a married life with you before you spoke your first words together.

♡ as if your looks weren't enough, he saw you guide a lost child back to their parents and didn't let them pay you when you returned their kid. you didn't care about the money, just the safety of others. he likes a selfless person to compliment how greedy he can be sometimes.

♡ ronald is a smooth talker. once the curtains fall he'll kiss your hand as you're gathering your bags and invite you backstage, eager to show you all the trophies that line the shelves of his dressing room. if you listen to him boast about his accomplishments then he'll never let you go.

♡ he finds you as radiant as the sun, you're a noble who's bent on supporting others financially but doesn't brag about it. it's just second nature to you. you handed him a tip worth a couple thousand dollars because of how enjoyable his performance was, which he used to reserve an elegant dinner date for you two.

♡ he feels so stiff around you at first because he fell in love with you before getting to know you. on your first date however, he learns about how you grew up poor just like him and sees you're more similar than he initially thought.

♡ although you know table manners, the way you eat in front of ronald is the same way you'd eat while having dinner at home. every laidback ministration of yours goes straight to his ice cold heart, the glaciers melting as he falls for you harder and harder.

♡ as a boyfriend, ronald of ness is... extreme. he burns thousands of dollars on you everyday. he never simmers down about how you're his entire world, he kisses you with vigor every time you enter or exit a room he's in. he's an arrogant romantic who's constantly spoiling you.

♡ he'll buy you the entire galaxy if you ask. lavish jewellery, a swim with dolphins, a yacht, backstage tickets to all of his shows. anything you wish for, he's delivering it wrapped in gold ribbons.

♡ the house you live together in? that's a castle.

♡ the bed he bought you was made for affectionate nights. his idea of a perfect cuddling session is you reading separate books snuggled up to one another. dozens of pillows and warm blankets keep you company when ronald is away, his scent still lingering on the fabric.

♡ ronald is a storyteller, so he'd love to read to you as you snuggle. he can do super convincing accents that always draw out giggles from you.

♡ he can be a bit hotheaded and jump to conclusions. if you aren't thrilled about a gift he buys you, he might take it personally and it'll wound his pride. if you're unhappy with one aspect of him the walls come tumbling down and he thinks you won't love him anymore.

♡ words of reaffirmation are how you can most effectively communicate your love to him. praise him and be there for him when he has episodes of extreme rage or sorrow.

♡ act casual with him. he'll know you love him if you plop your feet up on a nearby table or burp or something. hearing you make risqué jokes or swear when you stub your toe grounds him in reality.

♡ he doesn't like enclosed spaces or indoor areas much (ronald was never a miner so there's no accident, but norton's claustrophobia does carry over to all his skins.. a universal constant) so his favourite dates are exotic beaches or sprawling fields of flowers. he'll take you to a five star resort and give a toast to your eternal love as you clink your glasses together.

NSFW ;;

♡ this man is the most reckless spender to ever exist, so he's probably blown thousands on love hotel rooms, toys, and lingerie for both of you.

♡ he wants to be praised. no, needs to be praised. as an actor, ronald of ness' ego is maintained by critics worshipping him and his fans obsessing over his every move. when he isn't being showered in compliments his insecurities kick in and he starts to feel washed up, so he's developed quite the praise kink.

♡ tell him he's the sexiest man you've ever laid eyes on, that he makes you horny, and that nobody can fuck you like he can. every word you sing goes straight to his dick, especially since he knows you're being sincere and aren't acting.

♡ if you tell him that you've masturbated to one his performances before, his cock would ache from how badly he needed you. the idea of his love watching him perform and needing to touch themselves to his work drives him absolutely mad with lust. it doesn't just turn him on, it makes him feel a bit soft that you enjoy his acting and watch it in your free time too.

♡ he'll take you backstage in his dressing room every time you watch him perform. after a successful performance, there's no better way to reward him than deepthroating him in front of his vanity.

♡ huge voyeurism kink!!! let him jerk off for you. please. he does such a good job of exaggerating his moans and bucking his dripping cock into his hand, his hips shaking below him as he strokes himself. when he feels your eyes burning into his skin he couldn't stifle his whimpers even if he wanted to.

♡ loves being the center of attention. when he gives you oral, he demands for you to look at him as his nails dig into your thighs and his tongue licks you to euphoria. say his name if you want to feel him gasp with you in his mouth, he loves hearing his name drip from your lips like honey.

♡ he has a heavy oral fixation in general. when you're sucking his dick it feels like the spotlight is on him and he eats it up, not even trying to muffle his moans and grunts. the most vocal partner you could ask for, he can't help but hang his head back and let loose as you work your magic on him.

♡ swears like a sailor. the string of curses that you pull from ronald in his husky voice never fail to send you into a daze. if only the cameramen and supporting actors could see just how vulgar ronald is when he comes undone! they would chalk it up to a stunt double. "fuck, you take me so fucking well," being hissed into his lover's ear is the last thing they'd expect to hear from him.

♡ such a heavy breather. the way his chest rises and falls erratically with every pant makes waves of electricity pool in your lower stomach. when he tries to hiss out your name but can't catch his breath because he's so overwhelmed... goosebumps.

♡ ronald can afford to make a mess. literally. he's willing to break furniture as he rams into you, it's happened before. he can be very, uh, passionate.

♡ expect lots of roleplaying scenarios from him. ronald has starred in plenty of romantic productions, and he'd be lying if he wasn't turned on by some of the scenes he's filmed. two detectives getting dirty on a desk? you've done that. two soulmates reuniting on the train and not being able to wait to make love? yep, that too. he wants to share his wildest fantasies with you, and is open to trying anything you want.

♡ comment on how you like certain outfits or professions and when you come home after a long day you'll receive a surprise. ronald will be dressed in a uniform you fawned over, acting perfectly in character and ready to please you for the rest of the night.

♡ he'll take on any role you like, whether it's a bottom or a top. just ask. ronald leans towards a top but if you want to penetrate him or take the reins, he's excited to sit back and let you claim him.

♡ loves sex the morning after too. when you wake up with a bedhead and your skin is covered with nothing but blankets. he'd love to have a super tender session in the morning when you're both at your most vulnerable. the smiles he leaves on your skin whenever you yawn or stretch are contagious.

♡ ronald can thrive with elaborate, planned sex or just you two kissing in bed and things escalating from there. he loves the tenderness, and he loves having a muse to reenact his dreams and fantasies with.

#norton campbell smut #norton campbell x reader #idv x reader #norton campbell

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colormeyondublue · 3 years

Text

Chapter 12: Cards With The Boys (NSFW)

Chapter 11 Here

After confessing his love for you, you decide it was about time to move in with the Captain. It didn’t take long to get your things together because you don’t have much. After getting settled in the Captain’s quarters, you felt your heart soar at how for you two have come.

Later, you sit at your desk in your office tying up some loose ends, day dreaming of Yondu, and of going back to Earth. There isn’t much work to be done, but the peacefulness of your office brings you a sense of normalcy that you dearly missed. While you made sure your data drives were totally backed up and in working order, your door opens quietly. You glance behind you to see Yondu’s handsome face. You turn back to your computer and tell him you’ll be done in just a second.

“Do ya really gotta be working right now? Ya work all the damn time. There ain’t even much that needs done right now anyway! The crew’s gonna be on leave fer a few weeks while we’re gone.”

“I work because I like to!” You protest. “Besides, I’m almost done. Hold your horses.”

“Ya still never explained ta me what a horse even is ya know.” Yondu huffs as he sits down on the couch in your office.

You sigh and shake your head. You never imagined you’d have to explain to an adult what a horse was, but here you are. You eject the data drive and throw it in the drawer of your desk. “A horse, is a large mammalian quadruped with both binocular and monocular vision. They can weigh anywhere between 800 to 1,800 – sometimes 2,000 pounds! They’ve been used by my people as a source of food, labor, transportation and companionship for thousands of years. They’ve helped Terrans in every aspect of life, and nothing that we’ve accomplished to this point could have been done without their help. They’ve fought in our wars, and carried entire countries on their backs at times. In modern times they are primarily pets, used to work livestock, or ridden in competition.”

The captain rubs his chin for a moment. “What’s a pound?”

You stare at him blankly for a good few moments before it dawns on you. You are going to have to explain a lot to Yondu when you get to Earth. There is so much that he still doesn’t know about.

“A pound is just a unit of measurement. It’s used in some countries to quantify how much something weighs. It’s directly related to Earth’s gravitational pull. You know as well as I do that something on Krylor wouldn’t weigh the same as it would on Xandar, right?

“Yeah, I know that. But pounds is just what ya’ll call it?” He asks.

“Well…in some places. In others they might measure weight a little differently. But that’s a whole other conversation for another time. How about I just show you a horse when we get to Earth?” You chuckle.

“Sounds like a plan ta me. But anyway, what I came down here for was ta ask ya if ya wanted to play cards with me and the boys?”

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s already getting kind of late, and I don’t know how to play.”

Yondu stands up from where he’s sitting and approaches you. He steps behind you and gently gathers your hair to one side of your neck. He bends down to place light, seductive kisses up and down your neck before murmuring in your ear, “Come on baby, I ain’t seen ya all day. It’ll just be a few hands, and I wanna show you off to my men for a while. Show ‘em what’s mine.” He continues to kiss you along the length of your neck, and he begins to pull your sleeve down your shoulder to taste a little bit more of your skin. You can’t stop your breaths from coming in deeper and slower. Yondu never fails to make you melt in his hands.

“Alright, alright. You talked me into it. But that mouth of yours just isn’t fair. You cheated and you know it!”

Yondu laughs and gives you a smug grin as he points to himself, “Uhh, Ravager? Not to mention, I’m a Ravager Captain. I see somethin’ I want, and I take it. Including you.” He tugs you closer by your waist and kisses you hard and heavy.

You pull away after a few moments and ask, “Okay, so do you want to get some or go play cards? I’m not sure that we have time for both.”

He growls in annoyance at your point. “Damn. Ya might be right. Let’s go.”

~~~

You both sit down at the poker table in the ship’s bar with Yondu, Kraglin, Oblo, Tullk, and Geff. These guys have honestly become your closest friends, and you were happy to have a drink with them and learn to play card games. You were learning a Xandarian game that is similar to Black Jack, except there’s more suits and the cards are octogons. It’s a little confusing at first, but you catch on pretty quick. A few hands in, Tullk asks you if you’re excited to see Terra again.

“Yeah! I can’t wait to see the trees and breathe in the air. I miss our sunsets and forests. I miss the songs the birds sing. I miss the smell of the rain. But I think I miss our blue skies even more.” You smile softly and glance over at Yondu. He smiles back and offers you a quick wink as he takes a swig of his beer. He pulls you closer to him with one firm tug on your seat, and throws his arm over the back of your chair.

“Sounds like a neat place to me!” Geff chimes in as he looks over his hand.

“Got any idea of what your plan might be? What are you gonna do first?” Oblo asks.

“Well…I guess I’ll try to find my mom first. I think she would still live in the same place. I can’t imagine she would move. It’s only been a few years. Then once I find her, I’ll get in touch with my sister. But when it comes to introducing them to Yondu – well, I think I’m gonna have to explain a few things first. Ease them into it. Ya know? I know a place where Yondu can lay low until everything is calmed down. Being kidnapped by an alien race and then shipped out all over the galaxy isn’t going to be easy to explain.” You rub your temple lightly. It didn’t occur to you just how much of a shock your return might be.

“So Tullk, have you ever thought about going back?” You ask, hoping it’s an innocent enough question.

“Nah, not me lass. There isn’t anythin’ left fer me on our planet. I’m happy here with the crew. Mah life back on Terra was a little rough. Got in with some men who were less than savory. Joined Yondu’s crew an’ never looked back.”

The rest of the game you listen to Kraglin and Oblo’s banter back and forth, and wonder to yourself what kind of people Tullk got involved with. You figure that some things are better left unsaid, and as long and he’s happy here, that’s enough for you. Once the game is over, Kraglin gets the cards together and everyone heads in for the night. As you’re walking toward the door, Yondu grabs your hand.

“Hey honey, me ‘n Krags are gonna go over a few things around the ship fer when you and I leave tomorrow. I’ll meet you back at ma quarters?”

“Sure thing, but don’t be too long.” You stand on your tip toes to kiss him on the cheek, and head toward the Captain’s quarters.

~~~

You’re playing your list of songs on your personal playlist while you pack for the trip. You find out that there are thousands of songs you hadn’t listened to yet. You had no idea at first, but these data devices Kraglin uses have seemingly endless storage. You were getting a little buzzed, having gotten into Yondu’s whiskey stash at his minibar. A little celebration was in order since you were going back to Earth with Yondu. You were dancing hazily to Fantasy by Mariah Carey. Yondu walks back toward his cabin door, hears some muffled song and smirks to himself. As quietly as possible, he opens the door to find you dancing drunkenly to the music. He enters the room and you don’t even notice his presence as you continue to dance and sing. He creeps into the room and sits down in his recliner, interested in just watching you.

As much of a goofy drunk as you are, he smiles to himself. You might just be the best thing that ever happened to me, girl.

The song changes over to Love On The Brain by Rhianna. Although your playlist has a ton of different songs, music was something that always resonated with you, and you liked almost anything. With the lyrics of the song carrying you away, you feel large, warm hands on your hips as you sway to the music. Immediately knowing who is feeling you up, you lean into his body and he begins to sway with you. He brings his lips to your neck and kisses you slowly. His lips kiss and part from your neck over and over, and it makes your core ache as warmth spreads through your limbs. Letting go, you fall into him even more, surrendering yourself to him. His hands begin to wander over your body, feeling your hips and thighs. You let out a few breathy moans, and your knees grow weak. While still facing away from him, you bring up your arms and wrap them around his neck as he teases your ear with his tongue. He notices that his bottle of Krylorian Whiskey is almost half empty, and you are way past buzzed at this point.

Baby you got me like ah, woo, ah Don't you stop loving me (loving me) Don't quit loving me (loving me) Just start loving me (loving me)

Oh, and baby I'm fist fighting with fire Just to get close to you Can we burn something, babe? And I run for miles just to get a taste Must be love on the brain That's got me feeling this way (feeling this way) It beats me black and blue but it fucks me so good And I can't get enough Must be love on the brain yeah And it keeps cursing my name (cursing my name) No matter what I do, I'm no good without you And I can't get enough Must be love on the brain

The beat carries you both to his bed and he continues his loving assault on your torso and neck. At this point, the room is spinning a little, and the next thing you see is a gorgeous blue chest, and your captains’ pants slowly being undone. You are more than frisky, and the second his pants come undone, you dive into him. He doesn’t have a chance to argue, as his cock is already making its way into your mouth. He groans in response, and finds a fistful of your hair. The alcohol in your veins gives you some kind of super power and your skills with his manhood are already blowing his mind. He peers down at you with his head tilted to the side, groaning at the sensation you’re giving him. All of that whiskey has made your gag reflex vanish, and you can take him deep into your throat. He watches intently as his cock disappears into your mouth and he moans loudly. You continue to blow him out of his mind for a while longer, polishing the head every now and again. You hear him speak up, “Baby girl, I’m gonna cum if ya don’t stop.”

You look up him momentarily, roll your eyes with pleasure and moan on his cock. You’ve got him exactly where you want him. In a few more minutes, he spits out a string of curses at the intensity of his orgasm. “Oh, fuckin’ hell – yes! Shit….mmmhmm.” He pushes his raging hard cock as deep into your mouth as you can stand, and cums down your throat. You slowly slide his cock out of your mouth, and sensually lick the tip clean.

“It’s even better than I expected.” You smirk up at him. His cum tastes wildly different than a human’s. It isn’t bitter at all. It’s still slightly salty, but it’s also a little sweet and nutty. The taste was completely unexpected, and you almost couldn’t believe it. You tease his sensitive cock with your tongue to make it jump. “Oh, fuck. Ya might be more than I can handle when you drink like that.” He huffs out a laugh and collapses on the bed. “Alright, yer turn sugar.”

“No, it’s okay. I just wanted to make you feel good. I want to show you how much you mean to me. I don’t need anything. This was more than enough for me.” You kiss him lovingly, and snuggle into his side.

“I love you y/n. Ya really are an amazin’ woman. A damn whiskey bandit, but amazin’.”

~~~

The next morning, Yondu is still in bed with you. He wakes you up slightly by wrapping his strong arms around you and he pulls you as close as he can. You never thought in a million years that Yondu would be a cuddler, but in the privacy of his cabin he usually turned into a huge teddy bear.

“Good morning, handsome.” You mumble.

“Mornin’, sugar. Guess what?” He asks.

“What?”

“Today’s the day.” He says as he gently rubs your legs.

You push up on your arms quickly and look around the room. Today’s the day?! Oh my gosh, today’s the day!” You jump out of bed and start to get undressed.

“Woah, wait a minute! Where you goin’? We’ve got all day, slow down girl. Come ‘ere.” He beckons you back to him before you can get your t-shirt and sweats all the way off. You smile and crawl back into bed with your captain. “I wanna spend a little more time with ma woman before we head out. It’s gonna be a long flight, and who knows how long we might hafta be apart while you get your family stuff sorted out.” He pulls you close, and you happily snuggle into his warm embrace. Yondu is the warmest, and most incredible big spoon ever. His warmth is amazing, his body is so firm and strong. His hands engulf your torso almost completely. Absentmindedly, you rub your hands along his arms as he holds you.

“I love you.” These are the only words you can come up with, and yet they barely capture your feelings for him.

“I love you too, honey.” He takes in a deep breath and sighs. Yondu is trying his best to keep his worries at bay. He’s going to take up as much time as he can with you, which is why he wants to be so cuddly. It’s almost as if he’s afraid that you could vanish from his embrace. Today was not going to be an easy one for him. The uncertainty is maddening.

#Yondu and The Secretary #yondu x reader #Yondu Udonta #gotg #gotg fanfiction #fanfic #marvel #marvel fan fiction #love #centaurian

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bearlytolerant · 3 years

Text

Fandom: Dragon Age

Pairing: Solavellan (Modern AU)

Ch Rating: T

Ch WC: 2169

AO3

Chapter 7

Another day at the office. Editing, emails and the ever elusive caller that enables equal opportunities for playing phone tag. A game Solas never enjoys participating in. The morning slides by and Varric is at his desk, twirling his keys around his finger.

“Lunch?”

Solas glances up and sighs. “I’m trying to get a hold of Seeker Pentaghast. Sera said she had more info on an agent that might have a lead on Crystal Red.”

“That sounds like a lot of maybes and probablys and a whole lot of I don’t give a fuck. You’re allowed to take a break and get some lunch.”

“What if they call while I’m away?”

“They can leave a message. Now let’s get out of here before we don’t have any time at all for food.”

Solas shoves back his chair and follows Varric. “I did pack a lunch today,” he mentions.

“Save it for tomorrow then. I’m craving some street tacos and there’s a truck just up the road. I’ll buy so you don’t have to worry about it.”

“I am less concerned about finances and more concerned about getting food from a truck.”

“Ah, live a little Chuckles,” Varric says as he gives Solas a whack on the back.

“If living a little, as you say, means spending two days on the toilet. Perhaps I do not wish to live a little.”

“Well come with me and grab something else. I’m sure there’s something you’d find worthy of your tastes nearby.”

A half hour later and Solas is holding a taco that’s worth the regret he’ll experience from his future self. Some chipotle mayo dribbles down his chin and he swipes it away while pulling out his phone.

He checks his messages. One from Sarya and one from Veda. He taps on the one from Veda first.

Connor went home sick. Pick me up after school today?

He checks the time and swears. How did he not realize he took such a late lunch? She needs to be picked up right now. He dials her number as he stuffs his arms into his coat.

“Veda needs to be picked up,” he tells Varric as he shoves the remainder of his taco in his mouth.

“Got you covered,” Varric replies.

He mumbles a garbled, “thanks” then takes off down the street. Solas is just a block away from his car in the parking garage when she picks up.

“Hey papae!”

“Hello. I apologize. I just now saw your text. I will be late.”

“No worries. I can always watch the band practice until you get here.”

“I will be there soon.”

“Okie doke.”

He says he loves her and hangs up. Sprints the rest of the way down the street, half choking and wishing he’d at least drank some water but makes his way to his little car without incident. He hops inside. Starts it and zooms out of the garage. He’s speeding which has him checking his rear view mirror constantly. But of course, the city has a million stop lights and he hits every red one. He gets to her school later than he ever intended.

He parks, shoving his glasses all the way up his nose, and searches for Veda at the stadium. He spots her in the bleachers, chin resting in her hands and her copper braids coming undone in the breeze. He takes the stairs to meet her two at a time.

“I am so sorry to make you wait,” he says as he wraps her in his arms.

“Seriously, papae. It’s not a problem at all.”

“But what if it had rained? Or stormed like yesterday?”

“I would’ve just stayed inside. Besides, that didn’t happen.”

He sighs, berating himself a little internally. Then he walks with her back to the car. Slides in and clicks his seatbelt in place.

“What’s this?” Veda asks.

Solas glances over at her. She has Sarya’s camera in her hands. He hadn’t even noticed it there. He calmly says, “a camera.”

“Pssh, obviously. But I don’t remember you having a camera.”

“It’s a friend’s,” he says. “We went out for lunch and they must’ve left it.”

“Oh,” she says. “How was work today?” She’s still fiddling with the camera.

“It was work,” he says. Thankfully she easily dropped the subject. “Not much was accomplished.”

She gasps. “Your friend is so pretty. You’ve never mentioned her before. New coworker?”

“No. Just a new friend I met.”

“She looks familiar—and she’s a wonderful photographer. Maybe we should have her take some pictures of us. We haven’t updated our family photos since I was ten.”

“That’s a wonderful idea Veda. However, my friend is only visiting for a short while. I’m not sure there would be enough time to squeeze some family photos in.”

“Bummer. You look so happy around her.”

“I don’t always look happy?”

“You look a different kind of happy with her. It’s nice.”

He takes her words and holds them close to her chest. “Anything interesting happen at school today?”

“Yeah,” she says, then she unloads a multitude of stories. How one of her friends got their tooth knocked out by a basketball in gym. How she accidentally used Elvhen in her Tevene class and didn’t notice until the whole class was just staring at her.

“Did you feel embarrassed?” he asks as they pull into the garage.

“A little. But I mostly found it funny. The way the other kids looked so confused.”

“Does anyone treat you differently when you speak Elvhen?”

She shrugs. “There’s a couple of kids who say stupid things but I don’t hang around them.”

“Veda, I’m happy to speak with the administration if your having trouble with other students—“

“While I appreciate that, I can handle a couple of kids who are jerks.”

“Very well but if you ever—“

“I know.” She slings her backpack in her back then kisses his cheek. “Can I go to Varric’s house? I want to see the cats and hang out with Cole for a bit.”

“Yes, so long as you check with—“

“Already did.” She steps out of the car. “Going to drop my stuff off inside then I’ll see you later.”

“Text me when you want to leave. I’ll pick you up.”

“Okay. See you later, papae.”

Solas sighs. He’s glad she still talks to him and he still gets to see her but there’s also this tiny ache in his chest that misses her always being around the house. But he reminds himself that this is a good thing. It’s just new and he pulls out his phone to read his messages from Sarya.

Hey I’m going to try and stop by your work around 3:15 today.

I stopped by your work but you weren’t there. Saw Varric though! He introduced me to everyone and it was fun! I really like Sera. She’s hilarious! And Merrill was so sweet! Anyway, hopefully I’ll see you sometime soon. 😉

—

“I fold,” Sarya says, she takes a drag from her cigarillo. Then throws her cards face up on the table.

“Already?” Han asks. “What a shame.”

“Your mind must be elsewhere, Sarya. I’ve never known you to throw a game,” Vilanti says as she shows her cards.

Han takes the game and lets out a whoop as he gathers them all to shuffle.

“I still can’t believe Dallen just up and left us. Did he say anything to either of you? About his plans.”

Both of them shake their heads.

“It’s really odd.”

“I don’t know why you care. Easier to keep yourself from using him. Easier for him to be happy this way,” Han says.

“Ouch,” Vilanti grimaces, then gestures for all the cards to be handed over. She shuffles.

“I do agree with that actually. It’s just that most who move on from our happy little family tend to give us more of a notice. We didn’t get to give him a proper goodbye.”

“I don’t mean to sound callous here Sarya, but you were the only one who cared about the guy. Makes sense why he moved on.” Vilanti deals.

Sarya picks up her hand and stares straight through the cards. “That’s not true.”

“Basically,” Han argues. He draws a card.

“Sometimes you both are mean.”

“Not mean. Just honest,” Han says.

Vilanti draws. “On another note, I heard Makon made a new friend today.”

“What?” Sarya nearly drops her cards. “Our Makon? Makon—stoic, quiet, unsociable Makon?”

“Yep. Met her at the gas station. She was passing through on her way to Wycome and her motorcycle broke down. He fixed it up for her on the spot and they exchanged numbers I guess.”

“What the fuck?”

“Good for him,” Han says.

Sarya draws a card. “Yeah, seriously. I hope that works out.”

“Our next gig is in Wycome and he plans to see her then.”

“Was it love at first sight or something?” Sarya asks. She folds and picks her cigarillo back up. Her interest in cards declining by the second.

Vilanti shrugs and plays her cards, taking the game. “By the way he keeps talking about her, I’d say yes.”

“What’s her name,” Han asks, gathering all the cards into a pile.

“Athi. Athi Lavellan.”

“Another Lavellan huh?”

“Guess so. Maybe she’s related to you two,” Vilanti says.

“Doubt it. Or if she is, it’s very distant,” Han says.

In the distance they hear yelling and smashing bottles. They all exchange looks.

“Wonder who the hell set Deshanna off—“

“Let’s go see if we can smooth things over,” Han says with a sigh.

“You two can go. I’ll probably make things worse. I don’t think he likes me much.”

“That’s because you push his buttons. Definitely better for you to stay here,” Han tells her.

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Then she waves at them as they slip out the door and finishes off her cigarillo.

—

It’s dark and quiet and Sarya gazes longingly out the window at a small patch of stars. The only patch not hidden by the clouds. She sighs and startles at the sound of knocking. Straightening herself out, she rubs the redness from her elbows and opens the door.

“Solas,” she says it like she’s expecting him but she’s truly surprised. She steps out with him, shutting the door behind her.

“You forgot your camera,” he tells her, holding it out in his hands.

She takes it from him, hanging it around her neck. “Thank you. I should really start keeping better track of my things or you’re going to start thinking I’m trying to bait you or something.”

“I would bite every time,” he says, his hands clasped behind his back. There’s a certain sparkle in his eye and she can’t read him. But she knows she wants to kiss him. So without another thought, she stretches up on her toes and takes him by surprise. He is frigid and she panics, certain she has misstepped. After all, friends don’t kiss like that.

“I’m sorry,” she says, a little out of breath. “I don’t know what…”

Her words are caught on the edge of his lips as he captures her mouth again. His kiss is unreserved but not what she’d call passionate. Like the kiss of a long time lover. A kiss of promise. Of commitment. Her mind screams at her to let go while simultaneously wishing and longing for more. His leg is pressed into her inner thigh and despite the chill of the air, she’s certain she is on fire. Her nails are in his shoulder, the camera even hurts just a little as it presses into her chest, and she doesn’t mean to let out a moan but it’s too late for regrets as he pushes her against the side of her trailer. One hand above her and the other in her hair. With each breath she steals between kisses, she studies his face. Memorizes it and stores it for always. Freckles for days and the tiniest scar above his brow. The only sign of his age lies in the lines of crows feet near the edges of his eyes and she tells herself to ask if he has a skincare routine. He certainly seems the type.

She studies his closed eyelids, there’s two freckles on the right and a singular small one on the left and she notices that there’s even some red in his brows and wonders if they’d have red headed babies.

She gasps then. Pulls away. Why in the hell is she thinking of babies?

“Perhaps I should…”

“Kiss me again,” she says to him. She won’t let one ridiculous thought ruin the moment. She knows that she’s falling for him. Too fast, too soon but she’s holding on for another day.

When they break apart she doesn’t want him to go. But it’s too much to ask him to stay. So she waves goodbye then clicks her camera, saving the image of him walking away.

#dragon age #solavellan #modern au #solas x Sarya Lavellan #circus au #free falling #bear writes

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matthewtkachuk · 4 years

Text

how to be a heartbreaker: rule four - rafe cameron

Rafe Cameron’s privileged upbringing has let him get away with far too much, for far too long. Between his tormenting of the pogues, running his mouth without consequence, and arrogant attitude, it’s time someone knocked him down a peg. Breaking his bones didn’t work, but maybe you can break his heart.

co-authored with my love, freya @rekrappeter

pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader, unrequited!JJ x reader

warnings: angst, starting a relationship under false pretences, drinking and drug use, mentions of death (not main character!!), mentions of drowning

word count: 4.8k

a/n: here’s the second to last chapter!! please please please leave us feedback, freya and i read every comment and cry, love you guys so much!!

As JJ re-explained the next rule, you couldn’t stop the scoff from leaving your lips. “Who exactly is the ‘we’ in this rule, JJ? Cause it sounds to me like it’s really just me.” You sighed, the thought of getting close enough to Rafe Cameron to break his heart freaked you out the more JJ spoke.

“We’ll be with you through it all,” JJ reassured you.

“What do you mean through it all?” You asked, “Are you going to be there holding my hand while I let him kiss me?”

JJ scratched the back of his head, eyes flicking to Pope and John B who shrugged their shoulders, allowing him to take the fall for this question. “Eh, we’ll be there to provide support afterwards.”

“Knowing you guys, you’ll be pissed at me for kissing Rafe Cameron,” you snapped, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“I promise, y/n, we’ll be full of love and support,” John B promised, making you roll your eyes.

“Oh yeah, full of love and support like when JJ punched that touron who was trying to take me home.”

“He was a douchebag,” JJ defended himself.

“I literally just wanted to sleep with him, I don’t care if he was a douchebag. Do you make sure all the skinny blondes have winning personalities before you fuck them?” You smirked when he didn’t have a response.

“Can we get back to the plan please?” John B butt in again, frustrated as JJ sighed and nodded.

“Rule number four: never get attached, we don’t do that”

You awake the next morning, sunlight filtering through your broken blinds and your brain immediately goes through your to-do list for the day, like it does every morning. You’re still half asleep, contemplating spending an extra fifteen minutes in bed but it wasn’t until an arm wraps itself around your waist that you’re jolted from your thoughts and awake. Arm. Snores. Last Night. All the memories came rushing back in seconds, your stomach twisting with nausea and you felt the blood leave your face.

You panic, wondering how to escape from underneath the arm of your best friends’ most hated person before realizing this is your house and even if you were able to escape there is nowhere to run. As if sensing your thoughts, the arm pulls you closer and his face falls into the crook of your neck. Your heart is beating erratically, from panic or attraction or a mixture of both, you can’t say. Two soft kisses are pressed against your skin, before he huskily mumbles “good morning.”

It was hard to ignore your heart missing a beat, it was even harder to ignore the erupting butterflies in your stomach at the sound of his voice. When you heard his voice, it reminded you of how he praised you last night, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as he fucked you gently on the bed. He was so attentive last night, making sure that you were okay and enjoying it, and boy, did you enjoy it. He had you undone in seconds, you couldn’t even pretend you hadn’t wanted him, every bit of you was screaming for him to take you.

“y/n, you okay?” Rafe asked softly, cuddling you even closer if it was possible. You relaxed into his embrace for a second, unable to resist the warmth his body provided before your phone buzzed on your nightstand.

“I should get that,” you replied softly, pulling away from him and he let his arms drop from around you, situating himself on your pillow. You tried not to stare too long at his bare torso, remembering last night when you kissed down the abs god gave him. Swallowing hard, you looked away and furrowed your eyebrows at the message from JJ.

dumbass ❤️: mandatory meeting pogues assemble

The words reminded you that you were playing with fire. You sighed, and Rafe sat up a little in your bed, “everything okay, y/n?”

“It’s just JJ, he wants everyone to meet up at John B’s,” you replied honestly, not seeing any reason to lie.

“Oh,” he nodded slightly, “forgot about that part of your life for a second.”

“You forgot that I’m a pogue?”

Rafe sighed, running his hand over his face, “No, that you’re best friends with Maybank. I used to see you as Maybank’s wh-girl, but now…” Rafe trailed off, eyes looking past you to the mirror hanging on your bedroom wall that reflected your current position.

“First of all, I’m not JJ’s anything. I don’t belong to anyone.” You replied sassily, making eye contact with him through the mirror, “Secondly, what do you mean by ‘but now’?” You couldn’t help but ask.

“I think last night explains it all,” Rafe smirked, the faraway look in his eye completely gone when he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into him, kissing down your neck. You couldn’t help but giggle at the sensation, and you wanted nothing more than to pull away when you realised that you were enjoying this moment.

“Rafe, stop,” you laughed, trying to pull yourself away from him, for your own sake. The line between doing this for the plan and doing this for yourself was blurring with every touch of his lips.

Rafe sighed heavily, pulling away from you but not before cupping your face and planting a kiss on your lips. You lost yourself in the moment, melting into his body and letting him deepen the kiss. He could have kissed you all day if he liked, it wasn’t until your phone vibrated again that he pulled away, a smug look on his face.

dumbass ❤️: NOW!

You sighed heavily at the message, hating when JJ would get into a demanding mood like this. You pouted, thinking about how your car was still in the shop where you had left it, not really in the mood to make the long trek to John B’s.

“Whatcha pouting about, pretty girl?” Rafe asked, eyes focused on the curve of your lips.

“Nothing, I’m just thinking about how I’m going to have to walk all the way to John B’s-” you started to explain before he silenced you with a kiss. Your pout transformed itself into a smile despite your efforts to resist. You couldn’t help but wonder why you were giving in so easily. The rational part of your brain hated him, but the way he made you feel so good... You let the kiss deepen once more before he pulled away.

“I can drop you off,” he replied a little shyly, “y’know if you want me to.”

Your lips curved into a smile, having Rafe drop you off at the chateau would show them all how well the plan was going. Plus, JJ’s reaction would be a bonus. You could almost picture it, the stormy look in his eyes from the day before coupled with a grimace. Either that or complete indifference, but either way you wanted to find out. “Okay.”

“I thought you’d put up more of a fight,” he admitted, leaning on his elbow and looking down at you.

“Honestly, I just really don’t want to walk,” you replied, hand moving to run through his hair, “besides you’ll be on your best behaviour, right?”

He gripped your wrist, pausing your motions, before pressing a kiss to the inside, “for you? I’ll try.”

Half an hour later (you lazily made out with him for another ten before quickly getting dressed and heading over), Rafe pulled up outside the chateau. You weren’t sure if luck was on your side or not, when the prying eyes of your friends peeked over their shoulders at the sound of an unfamiliar truck at the side of the house. JJ stood out from the crowd, standing by the hammock, a smoke hanging loosely from his lips.

You tore your eyes away from him, ignoring the look he sent you and turned your attention to Rafe, who was staring at the unreadable expression on your face. “Thanks for the lift, Rafe, appreciate it,” you mumbled, reaching for the handle.

Rafe grasped the wrist of your other hand, making you turn to him. “Forgetting something?” You were confused for a second, but the smirk that rested on his lips answered any questions you had. He closed the gap between you, his hand cupping your face to deepen the kiss. His tongue ran along your lips, making you moan softly into the kiss. When you pulled away, you didn’t miss the quick glance Rafe sent to JJ making your stomach knot slightly. But who were you to be worried that he was playing you, when your ultimate plan was to play him?

“Your dog is glaring at me,” Rafe chuckled, making any worries you just had disappear.

“Don’t mind him,” You mumbled, thanking him for the ride again and hopping out of the truck, “call me, yeah?”

“Of course, babe,” Rafe winked, and when you closed the door of the vehicle, he reversed out of the driveway and was miles down the road by the time you made your way to the pogues, all with different expressions. John B’s eyes were wide, almost as if he just witnessed the real life santa claus walking around naked; Kie was amused, the smirk growing wider at the heart eyes popping from your head; Pope, as usual, seemed worried and you could tell that his mind was coming up with twelve million different questions; and lastly, JJ. You couldn’t make out his expression, he looked sour but accomplished. You weren’t sure what he was thinking but you knew that in only a couple of seconds, he’d be filling you in on his messed up thoughts.

“That looked like some kiss,” John B whistled, playfully fanning himself making you push him off the driftwood he was lounging on. “How many of them have you shared?” he asked from the ground, resting his arms behind his head.

You shrugged your shoulders, plonking down next to Pope and letting him comfort you silently by placing his arm around your shoulder, he placed a soft kiss on your forehead, muttering a quiet greeting. “Just a few,” you acknowledged, looking back to JJ, “right, boss, get the meeting going.”

JJ’s eyes scanned your face, looking for something that was missing. You knew he knew, he could sense it the moment you got within two metres of him but you didn’t bring it up, you didn’t ask him what was wrong because he’d eat you alive. “How is it going with him?” JJ asked, his voice low and filtered with underlying annoyance.

“H-he’s definitely falling,” you hummed. JJ took another look at you, this time his gaze zeroing in on the red mark on your shoulder that you had failed to cover up.

“Did you fuck him?” JJ asked you harshly, dark gaze strictly on you.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business, JJ,” you snapped back, cheeks feeling warm with embarrassment about being called out.

“Uh, I think it’s my business if it’s going to fuck up the plan,” he replied, as if that thought should have been obvious to you. “Besides, you’re my best friend and that makes it my business.”

Rolling your eyes, “I think if anything, it furthered your stupid little plan. Besides who I do or do not fuck is not your concern, friend” you spit at him. The pogues sensed the outright hostility and quickly made their way into the chateau to give the two of you privacy. Although, if you know them as well as you think you do, they’re likely standing on the other side of the door, listening in.

“Look, I just think there are plenty of other people you could fuck if you needed to,” he replied, hands in the air.

“Oh really? Because everytime I try, something or should I say someone scares them away.” You glare at him, more than aware of the way JJ runs off every guy that so much as looks at you.

“Those guys aren’t good enough for you,” he mumbled, suddenly losing all his indignation in favor of something that looked a little like shame.

“It’s literally for a quick fuck, JJ. I’m not trying to get married here. Besides, if they’re not good enough for me, show me someone who is.”

There’s silence as JJ considers your words. You raise a single eyebrow at him, waiting for him to give you something. “That’s what I thought.” You pushed past him and entered the Chateau to find your friends just on the other side of the door, staring at you with wide eyes. “What?”

You threw yourself onto the couch, crossing your arms and legs protectively over your body as you sat there and pouted. Pope sat next to you, a hand encouragingly resting on your knee. You waited for JJ to enter the house, his eyes shooting a glare in your direction but they must have caught Pope’s stare on the way, his face softening slightly as he released a heavy sigh. He made his way to the chalkboard, picking up the white piece of chalk and ticking off rule one and two.

“What about rule number three?” you piped up.

“Well, you gave him everything you had, there’s nothing more left,” JJ snapped, this in turn caused Kie to jump from the stool she was sitting on near the kitchen, walking up to JJ and pushing his chest. “What the fuck?” he hissed, eyes narrowing at the dark haired girl.

“You stop being a fucking dick, this was your idea and if you’re not happy with how it’s going then fuck off,” Kie snapped, getting real sick of the attitude JJ has become accustomed to.

“She’s right, man,” John B agreed, nibbling on his bottom lip, “You’ve been real snappy lately, especially with y/n.”

You threw your hands in the air, letting a sigh of relief escape past your lips, “Thank you!”

JJ’s eyes softened, his pink lips turning into a pout. He knew there was something wrong with him, he felt more irritable as the days went on but he never pinpointed that it was because of this plan. The Pogues were right, he didn’t have the right to be annoyed at you but yet he still was. “I’m sorry, y/n,” he hummed, running his hands through his blonde hair.

“It’s fine, J… I’ve actually been thinking, I don’t think I want to continue with this plan-” It was like a wave of anger just washed over JJ’s expression at your words, if it was a cartoon, steam would be flying from his ears. Pope squeezed your knee in support, getting ready to pounce at JJ in case he loses it.

“What? So you fuck him and now all of a sudden you’ve got feelings for him,” JJ chuckled drily, shaking his head in disbelief.

“What are you talking about? Look at how this plan has us acting, we’ve never fought this much before,” You shouted at him, standing up from the couch and letting Pope’s hand fall from you. You square your shoulders at JJ, telling him you mean it.

“Don’t bother lying to me, you know that has nothing to do with this. You like Rafe Cameron, admit it!”

“I don’t!” You hollered, ignoring the aching in your chest at the obvious lie. “So what if I fucked him? It probably just made it more believable that I liked him but I’m sick of this. I’m sick of fighting with you, I’m tired of you jumping down my throat every time I see you, it’s not the same. I’m through with this.”

JJ trudged towards you, his breathing erratic, “We’re not through until you break Rafe’s heart,” his voice was low, but his eyes spoke loudly enough to back up his words. They were fuming, scanning your face as if it was the last time he’d see you.

“You can break Rafe’s heart all you want, but I won’t be a part of it anymore,” you whispered, pushing past his panting body and stalking towards the door, pushing it open loudly. You paused on the porch for a moment, contemplating going back in and apologizing to JJ, promising him you’d finish what you started but the image of Rafe entered your mind. In this moment, you cared more for Rafe than you did JJ, a foreign feeling.

“Hey, you’re still here,” the sound of Pope’s voice made you turn, looking at him walking over to you. “C’mon,” he mumbled, pulling your body flush against his and comforting you. He ran his hands up and down your back, and you were never so grateful to have him in your life than in that moment.

You nestled your head into his chest, tears brimming your bottom lashes. “Pope, I’m exhausted.”

“I know, I know it’s hard pretending and I’m sorry you’ve to go through this,” your friend whispered, tightening his grip on you.

“No, Pope, I’m exhausted fighting with JJ over every little thing. I’m pretending here, right now, around all of you,” you cried, allowing the tears to fall. Pope had to take a second look when he pulled away from you, never seeing you cry in his life. You were always so tough, so hard headed and it made Pope’s heart ache at the sight of you right now, “When I’m with Rafe, I feel more like myself these days.”

“But y/n, it-it’s Rafe Cameron,” Pope’s brows furrowed.

“I know,” you exclaimed, shaking your head, “I know, Pope.”

“Look, go home and think about all this. I’ll be here with you until the end of the line, okay? I’ve got you.” You smiled thankfully at Pope, doing your handshake with him before jogging down the steps of the porch, ignoring the sight of the blonde peeking from the door when you turned to wave at your friend.

Pope looked at JJ, shaking his head in disappointment. “If you don’t tell her how you feel soon, you’re going to lose her.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” JJ mumbled, his inner voice telling him deny, deny, deny.

“Then don’t come crying to me when I’m right.”

“She fucked him, man,” JJ mumbled, running his hand over his face. His heart was hammering against his chest, his blood boiling in his veins. He wanted nothing more than to hop onto his motorcycle and go directly to Rafe Cameron and smash his face in. The thoughts of him having his hands all over your body made him sick.

“You can’t be angry at her though, you know y/n, we all do,” Pope sighed, running his hands up JJ’s back as he bent over, trying to ease his stomach, “she may be tough on the outside but she just wants someone to love her like she loves….”

“Like she loves me,” JJ sighed, shaking his head in anger, “I can’t love her like that.”

“You do though, bro.”

“N-no, I don’t. I’ve tried, I’ve tried thinking of her in that way, but I can’t. I love her, yes of course I do, but in the same way that I’d love my little sister.”

“If you want to keep lying to yourself, go right ahead.” Pope sighed, sick of fighting with his best friend about his feelings for their other best friend. JJ just kept silent, knowing deep down that Pope was right, he always was. He did love you, however, JJ wasn’t lying about being unable to love you the way you loved him, he didn’t know how. You occupied his thoughts most of the time, and he was fiercely protective of you, but he could never act on his love for you the way you wanted him to.

In your anger, you forgot that Rafe had dropped you off at John B’s, the realization hitting when your feet hit the gravel and you remembered you had to walk home. You thought about calling him, but you didn’t want to come across too desperately. That would really mess up the plan, you thought stubbornly, ignoring the butterflies that were fighting in your stomach at the thought of seeing him again so soon.

You were grumpily walking through the Cut, grumbling to yourself about your stupid best friend. Your heart sunk as your flip flop caught on a rock and you felt the plastic piece that separated your toes separate from your shoe. Looking down at your now ruined shoe, you briefly wondered if kooks ever had this issue, or if their hundred dollar kate spade flip flops broke too.

You stopped and leaned against a tree, pulling your phone out to call someone to come pick you up - there was no way you were going to walk in the Cut barefoot. You scrolled through your recent text list, grimacing at the sight of JJ’s nickname and deciding you didn’t particularly want to speak to any of the other pogues who had witnessed your disastrous fighting. Your eyes locked on the text history with Rafe, realizing he was probably the only person who would be willing to pick you up. You sighed, before shooting him a quick text.

you: if i dropped a pin, would you come get me?

rafe: i’ll be there in fifteen minutes

You smiled a little to yourself, who would have ever thought that Rafe Cameron would be who you called when you were in need of help? Honestly, who would have thought that Rafe Cameron would ever be someone you called ever.

Even though he said it would be fifteen minutes, he was in front of you in ten. Seeing the look on your face, he quickly threw the truck in park before hopping out and wrapping his arms around you.

“Hey,” you mumbled into his chest, leaning into him.

“Hey, baby,” the nickname fell from his lips by accident, but he decided he liked it, “everything okay?” You could only shrug, the weight of JJ’s words pressing down on your shoulders. “They don’t like you being with me,” he guessed correctly, pulling back a little to press a kiss to your forehead.

“I don’t care what they think,” you said, the earlier pout resting on your lips again.

“I think you do,” he replied, hand moving to soothingly rub circles on your back as you leaned into him.

“Well I wish I didn’t,” you snapped, feeling a little sorry. Truthfully, it was JJ you were still mad at.

“I like that you care,” Rafe admitted, “about your friends, about the environment, about strangers...about me?” the last two words said with a lack of confidence. You forced a smile onto your face, cupping his cheek with your hand before pressing your lips to his.

The strange thing is you were beginning to care for him, if only a little. His touch was calming, his presence comforting and his lips were heaven. Maybe you were just so touch starved that you latched on the first one to place their hands on you, but there was something about Rafe beyond the physical. He listened when you spoke, never spoke over you and never invalidated your feelings, not like JJ lately. He pulled away from your kiss slowly, and you kept your eyes closed, lips pursed. After a moment, you slowly opened your eyes to see him smiling down at you softly.

“C’mon, baby let’s go for a drive,” he kissed your forehead again before leading you to the passenger side of his truck, opening the door for you before getting in on the driver’s side.

You reached over the console, wrapping your smaller fingers around his hand and bringing the palm of his hand to your lips, placing soft kisses on it. “Stop that, it’s tickling,” Rafe chuckled, trying to rip his hand from yours but he put no effort in it, secretly wanting you to keep holding his hand. He looked over at you, the sun beating in from the window and lightening up his face. The way the sunshine shone across your body made you glisten, he could see the specks of dust flying around the car but his focus was solely on you, and he could have sworn your outline was sparkling.

“Where are we going?” you mumbled against his palm, turning his hand around and kissing his knuckles.

Moments later, Rafe pulled up to a cliffedge, overlooking the town below you. He took his seatbelt off, leaning over and clipping yours out, you took this as an opportunity to climb onto his lap, your knees straddling his sides. He nestled his face into the crook of your neck, circling his arms around your waist and pulling you into him. You felt your fingers absentmindedly brush through his soft hair, thanking the gods above that he didn’t have enough time this morning to style it with an oddly amount of gel.

You lifted your head up but knocked it off the sunvisor causing you to groan. “You okay, baby?” Rafe asked, his breath dancing across your exposed skin. He placed a kiss on your collarbone, and when he didn’t hear you answer, he pulled back slightly seeing your focus on something else. In your hand held the photograph that Rafe kept in his car, one that you were curious about. Your finger grazed the face, smiling back at you in the picture, seeing the brunette for the first time. Her smile was beautiful, her eyes were twinkling with excitement and the longer you stared into them, you knew exactly who it was.

“This is your mom?” you whispered, feeling the tension get heavy. Rafe let out a shaky breath, nodding his head at your question. “She’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, she was,” Rafe sniffled, wanting to reach for the photograph in your grasp but his eyes found your face, seeing how soft and calm your expression was. He knew you wouldn’t pry, he knew you wouldn’t question anything but something deep down told him that he wanted to tell you, he wanted to open up to you about this part of his life that he kept so private.

“You look just like her,” you smile, looking from the photo to Rafe. Your mouth parted at the expression on his face, the glossing of his eyes made your heart tighten in your chest. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“N-no, don’t be silly, it’s fine,” he mumbled, glancing at his mother. “When I was four years old, Ward took me out fishing by the lake on a Saturday. I don’t remember the day much, it goes by in such a blur. One week of my life was all pushed into one memory, I remember crying a lot. I remember there was a lot of screaming and-”

“Rafe, you don’t have to talk about this,” you interrupted him, hearing his voice shake. His tongue darted out from his mouth, wetting his lips and he shook his head, wiping the tears that were sliding down his cheek away. He avoided your eyes, the blue in them bright from the tears and the sun, but you reached up to cup his face, his stare finding yours immediately. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“I want to,” he whispered, “I’ve only ever spoken about this to one person, and that person was my therapist. I want to tell you.” You nodded at his words, urging him to continue. “So he brought me fishing to his usual spot, he warned me about the steep slip and told me, over and over again, to not go near it. But I was four years old, I forgot or I wanted to go home so I thought, maybe if I slipped, I would get to go back home. Anyways, I stepped on it and slipped into the lake, but I couldn’t swim and I didn’t realise Ward wasn’t looking at me.”

“Oh, god,” you couldn’t help the emotions from crashing over you, feeling his tears wet your hand.

Rafe sniffled, trying to chuckle through the pain the memory brought, “They got me out of the lake but I was unconscious, I could remember the sound of ambulances and flickering lights but everything was a blur until I woke up two days later, and no one was there to see me.” Rafe paused, heaving a deep breath, he clasped his fingers around yours, holding you tightly. He was shaking at your touch. “But it turns out, they were planning my mother’s funeral. Ward had called her from the ambulance and she left work in a hurry, she didn’t realise one of her tires were flat and--” Rafe couldn’t finish the sentence, he burst out in tears right in front of you.

Your chest was heavy as you immediately wrapped your arms around the crying boy, bringing him closer to your body and comforting him in silence. His whole body was shaking with the sobs, the sound of his pain making you cry alongside him. His arms circled your waist again, squeezing and grasping onto any bit of life he could.

(tag list in the first reblog)

#rafe obx #rafe x you #rafe x reader #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron x reader #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe cameron angst #freyby writes #diverdcwn writes #htbah

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shadowfae · 3 years

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Harmony, Chaos, RuneScape and Quoilunetary Nonhumanity

[Crossposted to National Nonhuman Park, and requested by @dzamie.]

I forgot to do this for like three days, but. I wanted to do a post on understanding past experiences and the differing perspectives people can have on the same experiences and how that can lead to radically different understandings and why there will never be a clear-cut border between alterhuman terminology, and I think I finally found a way to articulate that point. Commentary and responses welcome.

The very simplest way of explaining this concept is the following sentence: "I never said that I owed her money." Seems a simple statement, yeah? Place emphasis on one word, read it again, and then place emphasis on a different word and read it. "I never said that I owed her money," implies a flat-out denial of the concept. However, "I never said that I owed her money," is a clear 'I implied it but never said it, and you can't hold me to that'. And emphasis on other words brings the exact meaning of those emphasized words into question, and so forth.

But while that concept is universal, it's difficult to see as it stands how that applies to alterhuman experiences. So we're going to delve into the source of one of my current linktypes, RuneScape, and we're going to explain things the way a warpriest does, using the setting's available godly philosophies to explain a past experience.

The two we'll be looking at today are Serenist and Zamorakian philosophies, particularly the Elven questline, and we're choosing this because Seren's ingame dialogue includes her explaining why Zamorakianism doesn't fit the questline. I, however, say it does, so let's compare and contrast how they both fit, and why they're both valid, and why if you're determined enough you can be absolutely convinced that the other's an idiot.

Seren is the crystal goddess of light; associated heavily with integrity, harmony, prudence, wisdom, and tranquility. Simply put, she is a pacifist who believes that if two parties can meet in the middle and find harmony, the best possible result can be achieved.

This is contrasted heavily with Zamorakian philosophy. Zamorak is known best as the god of chaos, although his philosophy heavily centres strength through personal strife. He believes that almost all obstacles and challenges in life can be beaten if one just never gives up, and that through surviving those obstacles, one is made a better person. He also believes that order brings stagnation: with no reason or need to do something different, people will do what they have always done, thus, chaos is necessary for improvement and achievement.

When Seren left the elves, her main followers, scrambled to put together a leadership that might replace her. Modelling the humans, they chose a monarchy, which was undercut in short order by Clan Iorwerth. (Iorwerth is one of the two military elven clans.) Iorwerth, following a dark power, overthrew the monarchy and shut down the elven kingdom entirely, forcing every elf that wasn't trapped to flee or swear allegiance to them. They were later overthrown by the remains of the other seven clans and the player character, the kingdom was restored as a republic, and eventually Seren came back.

When asked about Zamorak's philosophy, Seren references this: ["Order only brings stagnation."] "Perhaps, but there is also imagination and community. When sharing with others, we can learn to see the world differently. Look at all my elves accomplished. It was undone for a time because of chaos. It was harmony that restored them." [Post- The Light Within dialogue.]

Note the emphasis on harmony, and how she looks down upon this. However, she does agree that the elves are stronger without her, evidenced by her refusal to lead them again after her return: "I will not leave you, not again, but I will not lead you. Let me, here and now, recognise this council as the true leadership of the elven people." [The Light Within quest dialogue.]

Zamorak ingame has never spoken about this event, it's on the other side of the continent and he doesn't much care about what Seren does so long as she stays away from him. However, speaking as my linktype, a son of Zamorak, and a warpriest of Zamorakian philosophy and religion, I feel qualified to explain what his philosophy does say about this event, and how it differs.

Zamorakian philosophy places emphasis on the chaos, and how through it, one becomes stronger. Seren says that she recognizes the clan council of the elven republic to be its true leadership. This council did not exist until after she left and left her followers to deal with the aftermath. Even so, their first attempt at fixing the situation was to create a monarchy, which was overthrown almost immediately.

Arguably, their first attempt via wisdom and harmony – modelling their new government after a human form of government that evidently worked, and by choosing their monarchs to represent them best – failed miserably. However, Iorwerth's assault forced the remaining elves to think of another solution that there was no historic precedence for. The clan leaders chose to go into hiding until someone else had overthrown Iorwerth, which didn't happen until the player character did so, over two thousand years later. Those elves who did not go fully into hiding instead created a resistance, aiming first to stop Clan Iorwerth from obtaining death magic that would have cemented its rule perhaps permanently, and then by taking it down once it was properly destabilized.

Their second attempt at a form of government, truly equal across all eight clans, is evidently better than their first attempt: it withstood the next upheaval of Seren's return and refusal to govern them again, and she gave the council her blessing. The solution they found through harmony and tranquility failed. The solution they found through chaos succeeded.

Seren places her emphasis on the fact that through the Iorwerth domination, the remaining elves worked together to find a solution. Zamorakian philosophy states that they never would have found that solution or learned to work together had their lives not been thrown into utter chaos.

Seren focuses on the harmony that is the method of survival, Zamorak focuses on the chaos that caused invention of an improved method of survival. Seren disavows chaos, disregarding that it is anything but an obstacle that needs to be overcome, refusing to see it as something worth seeking out. Zamorak disavows order, arguably incredibly similar to the Serenist ideal of harmony, and states that it only brings stagnation and is incredibly fragile and meaningless. Through this, the two philosophies are radically opposed, both disavowing what the other praises.

Compare this scenario to one more personal and recognizable to those who may read this: any scenario in which someone is put to their limits, any scenario potentially traumatizing. Serenist philosophy asks for integrity, that one stays true to oneself throughout it all, and harmony, to seek a peaceful solution. This is easily taken down by any situation in which one needs to change in order to survive, however, it also is best represented by the growth of the aftermath when it is time to rebuild. Zamorakian philosophy asks for strength, to find a way through no matter the cost, and celebration of strife, to recognize that there is a point to the pain. This is easily taken down by any sort of emotional trauma that leaves scars, however, it also is best represented by the ability to take any punches thrown and to recognize the good of recovery and what that means for the future.

Thus, in a situation of aftermath, both celebrate the growth and the strength necessary to survive, and meet up perfectly in the middle in any situation in which one is honest with themself, survives the ordeal, and recognizes that they are better than they were before.

Radically opposed, and when you tilt your head and squint, they lead to the same conclusion of a better tomorrow than yesterday was.

As my last point, the question of 'and what exactly does this have to do with gray areas of the alterhuman community?' requires an answer. Not all cases will fall under this, but here's a couple scenarios to think on. Someone who has a parallel life in another world: are they otherkin, or are they otherhearted? Someone who places emphasis on the differences between themself and their parallel life may recognize the other as their counterpart, but not quite them, too similar to be anything but family but too different to be the same person, like twins separated at birth. But someone who places emphasis on the similarities, recognizing the other as a reflection of themself, may say that they're otherkin, not so separate as to be family but too similar to be anything but the same person, if in two different situations.

Take further something psychological. Someone with executive dysfunction, an uncontrollable focus mechanism, emotional dysregulation, ostracization from their peers, and a lack of understanding of metaphors or half-truths may go to a pediatrician and be diagnosed as autistic. If they never go to that hypothetical pediatrician, but instead find themself online and hunting for answers, they may discover the otherkin community and come to the conclusion that they are Fair. Where one reads the apparent difference between themself and others as recognizing that they do not psychologically think the way others do, and thus being othered; one recognizes it as others having a gut feeling that they are simply not human, akin to an uncanny valley effect.

Lastly, consider someone who takes up believing themself to be a unicorn as a child, to deal with ostracization from their peers. Something along the lines of the last scenario. Years later, after growing up and discovering a friend group and no longer facing any ostracization, they determine that they still identify as a unicorn. They do research and understand that if they put in the effort over several decades and ego alteration, they may be capable of releasing that coping mechanism turned integral part of them, and letting it go.

Are they otherkin, or a copinglinker?

If they consider themself otherkin, then one can assume they would be disinterested in using ego alteration over a course of decades to let go. If they consider themself a copinglinker, then they may be interested, or they may not, but it would be more likely that they would at least consider the option before deciding either way. And if they do decide against it, does that make it otherkin? As the difference between the two is defined and largely accepted that otherkin is involuntary and copinglinking is, one might argue that they would still be a 'linker, as one cannot choose to be otherkin.

But are they keeping a linktype that they chose and are still choosing, or are they choosing to embrace a kintype that already exists?

I suppose which one it is depends on how you want to look at it, and where you want to place your emphasis of the experience. And no matter how someone else may look at it, the only one with final say is the one who experiences it in the first place.

Both conclusions lead to the same place, in the end: an alterhuman identity, and an experience worth exploring and talking about. No matter how one understands it, or what they ultimately decide to call it.

#otherkin #fictionkin #alterhuman #essays of the skyrose garden #luteia laments #on voluntary identity #on psychological otherkin #on copinglinking #see I know this'll piss people off but I also don't think I'm wrong here?#but I do want to hear thoughts #and if y'all make your own posts please tag me in them

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charmingyong · 4 years

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Make a Wish, Girl

Genre: genie!Taeyong x reader, angst, fluff

Warnings: swear words, suggestive near the end

Plot: After your life had fallen apart, you were blessed by an unexpected surprise. A genie who granted you three wishes.

Word count: 1.8k

A/N: Inspired by genie Taeyong in Make a Wish. Wrote this in one go, edited and posted without a second thought. I can’t let myself spend hours staring at this when I have bigger works that need my attention.

- ❀ -

You were sitting on the sofa of your apartment, hands linked with one another and feet tapping on the floor, eyes fixed on a box sitting on the coffee table in front of you. A box perfectly wrapped with golden gift wrap and ribbon tied in a beautiful bow.

It had been mysteriously there when you first walked out of your bedroom, never once touching it. You had weighed your options, whether to open it right then and there or call the police for investigation. The smarter move would have been the latter. But with the recent heartbreaking events in your life, it made sense to you to just take the risk and open it.

With a heavy heart full of curiosity, you got onto your knees, coming down to eye level with the box and tugged the ribbon gently. You could tell that the money put into the wrapping was no joke. When the bow had become undone, you carefully ripped the gift wrap. You noticed that the box came with a lid and so you lifted it, revealing white with diamond sparkle glitter tissue papers. One by one, you picked them out until you came across a golden magic lamp. A lamp that resembled to the genie lamp from Aladdin.

It was bizarre why such an item came in a gift box and was inside your home out of the blue.

You picked the lamp up, inspecting the classic vintage design of the magical oil lamp, wondering if it really was a genie lamp. There was only one way to know.

Clearing the coffee table with your arm, you let the remnants of the gift-wrapping fall to the ground and gently put down the lamp. With a deep breath in, you rubbed the lamp, your heartbeat picking up.

Poof!

Fog appeared in front of you, a silhouette in the midst of it. After the fog began to disappear, your jaw dropped to the ground. Before your eyes was the most beautiful, ethereal being that you had ever laid your eyes on.

He chuckled at your expression. "Girl, you might want to close your mouth before a fly goes in."

Dumbfounded, you did as he said. "Who are you?"

He smirked. "Who else do you think? I'm the one and only magnificent genie, Taeyong."

Taeyong... Nice name, you thought.

"Why are you here?" you asked him. You were surprised to have a genie delivered into your place without prior notice. And who on earth even broke in without you realizing?

"According to my sources, you need some healing, don't you?"

How the fuck did he know?

He laughed at your bewildered face. "It's a secret. But I can help you."

"How?"

He held up three fingers. "Make three wishes that you want to come true. I can make absolutely anything happen. You only have today before you never see me again."

Your breath hitched. Three wishes. Only today.

"Can you really make anything happen?" Hope built up in you as you knew right away two wishes to ask Taeyong.

He smiled a sincere one, sending butterflies to your stomach.

"Anything. Your wish is my command."

You wanted to get revenge on your boyfriend of two years, or should you say ex. He recently came clean to you, telling you that he fell in love with another girl. As much as you appreciated the truth, it wounded your heart that he hid it for three months.

You figured something was up but only thought it was his stressful work. His texts had become vague and straight to the point, no time for love exchanges. He refused to see you, always complaining that he had family gatherings, or his work was holding him back from having free time to spend with you. It pained you that you loved him without an ounce of doubt, and this was what he did to your trust. By cheating on you.

The breakup had taken a toll on your life. You weren't as bright and productive at work and so your boss fired you when you failed to meet the month-end deadlines. You felt pathetic. First your boyfriend broke up with you, and then your boss kicked you out of work.

But with a genie named Taeyong in front of you, your mind was set to make the stabbing pain stop in your heart and put your life back together.

“My first wish is to get revenge on my ex,” you said. You didn’t know how to though, and never thought about it before Taeyong showed up.

“Easy. I expected that.” He grabbed your hand and walked out of your place.

You walked down the street, your hand still in his. His bony hands felt surprisingly warm, making a faint blush rise up to your cheeks. He guided you to the nearest coffee shop, holding the door open for you to go in first.

Upon entering, your eyes immediately found your ex sitting at a table across a girl you assumed was his ‘new love,’ chatting happily without a care of what was happening outside of their bubble. It stung your heart bad to see him so happy with another girl like the way he first was with you.

You pulled yourself out of the miserable thoughts when Taeyong confidently walked through the shop, pulling you along. All the girls and boys in the vicinity stopped what they were doing and gawked at the drop-dead gorgeous being that they were blessed to see.

He stopped right beside the couple, eyeing your ex with a stoic expression. You wished you could figure out what was on Taeyong’s mind. Next, he shifted his gaze to the new girlfriend, giving her a dazzling smile. He let go of your hand and bent down to her eye level, crossing his arms on the table.

“Hey gorgeous,” Taeyong greeting softly at her.

Your ex finally noticed you and gave you a questioning look, but you didn’t respond. You had no idea what Taeyong was trying to accomplish from this. Heck, you didn’t even know how Taeyong knew where your ex was.

“H-Hi,” she stuttered, stunned by the existence of such a beautiful creature before her. And called her gorgeous. At this point everyone in the shop had their eyes on Taeyong, some swooning and some curious.

“Don’t you think you’re a lot more worth than how this one treated you?” he asked, nodding his head in your ex’s direction.

“W-What do you m-mean?”

“If I use the married life analogy... then like a mistress? It’s a shame, I must say,” he shook his head with feigned disappointment.

Something geared inside her. Anger. At your ex. You didn’t know if she felt this on her own or Taeyong had hypnotized her. And what she did next made you feel good.

She grabbed her iced drink, removed the lid, and splashed it on your ex, shocking him for her to have done such a humiliating action in public. You heard a collection of oh and wows from the audience, displeasure masking their faces at your ex.

“Don’t you dare call me again!” she screamed and stormed out.

“What the hell, dude!” Your ex faced Taeyong with fume coming out of his ears.

“He’s right!” Someone from the crowd spoke up. “How dare you cheat on your wife?”

Taeyong clarified. “Not wife, but girlfriend. And then he left Y/N crying alone.”

Woah, how did Taeyong know your name? You didn’t recall telling him. Oh right, he had his sources. But who the fuck were these sources?

“What the- You’re such an asshole!” Everyone in the shop began yelling profanities at your ex, cuing you and Taeyong to leave without anyone realizing.

He really was using magic.

After walking around the block out of the coffee shop’s view, he asked, “How do you feel?”

You had to admit. As much as your heart was still hurting, the commotion earlier made you feel a lot better. “Pretty good. He’s probably going to be scarred now.”

“He should be. This should teach him a lesson. Have him think a thousand times before looking at another girl,” he smirked.

“Thank you, Taeyong.”

“My pleasure, sweetheart.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the nickname.

“What’s your second wish?”

You had your second one ready. “My second wish is to get a job. I got fired from a desk job and I never really found any satisfaction from it either. It’d be fun to work somewhere... more creative.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Anywhere in particular?”

You hummed, thinking of an idea. “Maybe floral designing? I really love flowers.”

He smiled warmly at you. “Let’s go then.”

Taeyong had found you the job at the closest flower shop from your apartment. You were mind-blown at how he was able to fulfill your two wishes so fast, leaving you to think of what your last should be. You suggested heading back to your place while thinking of the third wish.

And then you thought of the perfect one. The one your heart needed the most at that moment.

“Taeyong, you said you can make any wish of mine come true, right?”

“Yes, sweetheart. Anything.”

“Then my third wish is to heal. Please help me stop feeling the pain in my heart. Everything that happened today is something I wouldn’t have ever done myself and I feel better about those things. But the pain is still there in my heart. Maybe I’m scared to fall in love. Before you leave, can you help me stop... hurting?”

It made him sad whenever he witnessed good people suffering, and he was willing to do anything to make them feel better. Make you feel better. “I’ll do everything in my power to heal you. Is there a specific way you have in mind, sweetheart?”

You did. The butterfly feelings still lingered inside you and you’d by lying if his beautiful features equipped with a warm personality didn’t burn something inside you. “My bedroom?” you asked quietly, worried what his reaction was going to be.

The biggest smile broke onto his face. “Like I said, your wish is my command.”

- ❀ -

“Okay, who’s next for Taeyong hyung?” Doyoung shouted from his workspace at his team.

Jaehyun raised his arm, looking at his monitor of another girl’s biodata. “Someone named Joy.”

#nct #taeyong #lee taeyong #nct taeyong #taeyong x reader #taeyong scenarios #taeyong imagines #taeyong oneshot #taeyong fluff #taeyong angst #taeyong fanfic #taeyong fanfiction #nct scenarios #nct imagines #charm

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mst3kproject · 3 years

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Countess Dracula

In Countess Dracula we have the tale of a lonely old woman who discovers that she can make herself young again, just so long as she doesn’t mind having to murder somebody to do it (she doesn’t). Our antiheroine uses this newfound youth to seduce the least interesting man in the movie, until at last her misdeeds catch up with her when her latest victim turns out to have been the wrong demographic to make the magic work.

Does that sound familiar? Yeah, this is a very Leech-Woman-y movie. It stars Nigel Green, the news announcer from Gorgo, and comes to us from Hammer Studios, home of Moon Zero-Two. The director, Peter Sasdy, never made anything that wound up on MST3K but he did work on the legendary Pia Zadora bomb, The Lonely Lady. Countess Dracula is not a wild ride, as its pace is fairly sedate, but it is certainly a ride nonetheless.

The count of somewhere or other has just died, leaving his realm to his nineteen-year-old daughter Ilona – and technically also leaving his spiteful widow, Elizabeth, free to marry her longtime lover Captain Dobi. Most people would consider this a perfectly acceptable retirement, but Elizabeth is impossible to satisfy. She doesn’t want to grow old while Ilona (currently on her way home from finishing school in Vienna) rules the county and gets all the attention. When Elizabeth discovers that bathing in the blood of virgins restores her youth, she embraces murder as a hobby and has Ilona locked up so she can stay in charge while posing as her own daughter! In that guise she sets out to pursue handsome young Imre, the son of her husband’s most trusted general, while jealous Dobi can only sit and seethe.

I bet you think you can guess how this movie ends. I bet you think Dobi tells Imre the countess’ secret, and the two of them defeat her. Or else the real Ilona escapes and meets him, they expose Elizabeth as a fraud, and then get married and rule the land with justice and mercy or something. That’s what would happen in a normal movie… but you guys know I don’t watch normal movies. Maybe instead you’re guessing that nobody does shit and Elizabeth just carries on her merry way until she’d destroyed by her own hubris? That’s more like it.

Not all of Hammer’s films were good, but they were generally pretty well-made and Countess Dracula is not an exception. The elaborate costumes and sets are very nice, although areas like the town square are obviously artificial and the old lady makeup on Ingrid Pitt as Elizabeth is pretty bad. There’s also a young woman made up in very ugly brownface as a ‘gypsy girl’, except they totally forgot to do any makeup on her for the scene where her naked corpse is discovered in the woods.

There are even a couple really well-done moments of storytelling and worldbuilding. A scene in a pub, when everybody falls silent as Dobi and Imre enter, shows eloquently how terrified the peasants are of the aristocracy. Elizabeth gets some chilling bits when we see the true depth of her depravity. She sees no difference between controlling people through love and controlling them through fear – either way, she gets what she wants, and their feelings don’t matter. My favourite detail is the subtle cultural conflict going on in the background, as the characters speak disparagingly of ‘Turks’ and yet have clearly picked up some bits and pieces of Ottoman culture.

Although its plot outline is very similar to The Leech Woman, the philosophy of Countess Dracula is completely different. The Leech Woman didn’t really give June a viable alternative to her poisoned fountain of youth. Old women in its world can only sit around and drink and know that nobody loves them. Elizabeth, however, has a possible future – Dobi repeatedly notes that he’s been waiting twenty years for the opportunity to legitimatize his relationship with her. He would have happily devoted himself to her for the rest of his life, and the two of them could have lived in retirement while Imre and Ilona gave them grandchildren to spoil. Dobi even says there is dignity in age, directly contradicting The Leech Woman by applying it equally to both sexes. June was more or less forced to become a monster, while Elizabeth chooses it explicitly.

So there’s honestly some pretty good stuff in this film. Where it unfortunately falls on its face is with the characters, none of whom can really be said to have an arc, and the ending, which is rushed and unsatisfying.

The movie’s main focus is always on Elizabeth, but she refuses to grow or learn anything at any point. She starts off as a nasty, selfish bitch and just stays a nasty, selfish bitch. She has no actual master plan, but seems convinced that she can keep up this charade indefinitely, even though Dobi points out the impracticality of that. Dobi believes she’s going mad, but the truth seems to be she’s just horrible. She is evidently terrified of growing old, but that is never explored. We see her react to aging, rather violently at times, but we never find out what the root of this fear is.

All this means that Elizabeth, despite being the focal character, is never sympathetic. June in The Leech Woman at least started off as somebody we could pity, before she descended into depravity. Elizabeth is a terrible person from the get-go, as illustrated in the very opening when she has her coachman run over a peasant who wants her to fulfill a promise her late husband made her.

Imre and Ilona are pretty much complete ciphers. Imre spends the entire movie in Elizabeth’s thrall one way or another. He is madly in love with her in her guise as Ilona, and after finding out the truth he’s too scared of her to openly defy her. The only personality trait he manifests is gullible foolishness, and any sympathy we might have had for him evaporates when he cheerfully kisses a barmaid’s tit on the same day when he’s proposed marriage to the woman he believes is his true love. Ilona spends most of the movie locked up in some mute peasant’s hut doing not much. When she finally enters the story properly, she comes across as stunningly stupid.

The character who does the most to try to thwart Elizabeth is her lover Dobi, but he’s less interested in stopping her from killing virgins than he is in having her to himself. He gets Imre drunk and tosses him in bed with the barmaid in the hope that Elizabeth will reject him, and later takes Imre to see Elizabeth bathing in blood to youthen herself. These things don’t work, partly because Imre is an idiot and partly because Elizabeth is always more evil than he thought she was, but at least he tries.

At the end of the movie, Elizabeth’s latest bloodbath wears off in the middle of her wedding to Imre, and she runs off to murder Ilona in order to make herself young again. Imre tries to stop her and gets stabbed for his trouble, which does at least expose Elizabeth’s evildoing to one and all, and she and Dobi are hanged. What happens to Ilona I’m not sure, but I know they didn’t have therapists in the seventeenth century. Nobody wins here. It’s a downer for everybody, including the superstitious peasants, who will continue to be terrified of their rulers now that their worst fears have been confirmed.

Several things might be made of the fact that it’s young women Elizabeth is killing. It’s interesting to note that the idea of male virginity is never even brought up. We could contrast two depictions of motherhood, in the form of Elizabeth’s jealousy of Ilona versus Juli the nurse’s unconditional love for her. There’s Imre’s description of ‘Ilona’ as embodying all aspects of womanhood, to which Dobi replies that no woman can be maiden, mother, and whore all at once… yet that is just what Elizabeth is trying to be. What I find interesting in this, however, is how the movie depicts Elizabeth’s own internalized misogyny, in the fucked-up attitudes she displays towards youth, beauty, and gender.

Elizabeth feels that age and experience have made her undesirable. Dobi assures her that he finds her as attractive as he ever did, but she evidently does not believe him, and her mistreatment of her female servants has a definite note of jealousy in it. She kills young virgins not only to gain their desirability, but because she hates them for what they have and she does not.

What’s unusual is that she applies this same attitude towards the men in her life. Elizabeth is no longer attracted to Dobi, because he is old and experienced. Their affair has gone on for years, and in Dobi’s mind this has only deepened his love for her – but Elizabeth is tired of it and wants something new. Imre is young, handsome, and innocent. He has no wealth of his own and has not yet really accomplished much in life, but Elizabeth doesn’t care. If all she has to be is young and pretty, then how could she ask anything more of him?

Here, Dobi and Elizabeth represent two different versions of gender equality as it applies to sexual attractiveness, with him raising Elizabeth to his level, and her lowering Dobi and Imre to hers! Elizabeth treating the men in her life as she has been treated illustrates the inequality quite sharply, but what ultimately destroys her is applying the same standards to herself. She believes so totally that nothing else matters as long as she is beautiful that she doesn’t care what she has to do to accomplish it, or who sees her do it. In the end, she is undone by her own self-loathing.

#mst3k #reviews #episodes that never were #countess dracula #70s #magic voice recommends #we're running out of plots

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thebluestbluewords · 3 years

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fitting rooms have locks for a reason

Malvie + Ben, a little spicy, technically part of my queer parenting/babyfic/polyamory 'verse. Not explicitly stated, but it's got some pretty heavy d/s themes. ~1600 words.

“I don’t think this is ever going to be a good look on me.” Mal says doubtfully, fisting the extra fabric of her skirt up as she steps onto Evie’s fitting dais. “I might just be too short for this to ever look good.”

Evie does not roll her eyes, because she is a good girlfriend who is working with her girlfriend’s changing ideas about her body, rather than against them. “It doesn’t look good now, obviously. You have to shut up and let me finish pinning it first.”

Mal drops the skirt. “Fine.”

Finally, “Thank you.” Evie says graciously, and gestures for their boy to come forward. “Servant boy, more pins!”

Ben ducks his head. Evie’s got him on his knees today, his feet looped together with one of her scarves so he can’t move easily even if she wanted him to stand. He gets quiet sometimes, when they boss him around like this, but they’ve talked about it at length and he insists that it’s better when they let him get to that point.

He’s not that far down yet today. “Your highness,” he says, holding out the magnetic dish with the wickedly sharp straight pins that Evie uses for fittings. She could tie his hands too, but half the fun is pulling him around into odd positions and seeing how long he’ll be able to hold it before she either has to move or scold him.

It’s a good day, so Evie’s going to give him a fighting chance this time. “Stay right there for a sec, babe. Don’t move a muscle,” she says, pulling his arms, and the dish sitting in his hands, up so that she can reach easily. It means that his arms are stuck awkwardly just above his head, but his shoulders are already relaxing into the pose. “Thank you.” she adds, on second thought. A little praise never hurt anyone.

“Evie--” Mal tries, as Evie gathers the fabric she’s been holding up out of her hands. It’s a few simple tucks that honestly, Evie doesn’t even need her to model for. She’s been designing for Mal practically as long as she’s been designing for anyone other than herself, and between clothing and their other activities, she knows the shape of her girlfriend’s body better than her own.

“Shh.” Evie says, and brandishes a pin. “I’m almost done, just hold on.”

Mal shuts up.

It really only takes another second, and then there’s just the hem to get up, and their boy to shove around again, until he’s moving a little looser and easier, just like Mal does when Evie finally finds the dresses that make her feel like the best version of herself, and that’s it.

Evie drops the hem to Mal’s legs, and the spare pins back to the bowl. “Do you want to try walking in that, Mally?”

Mal steps down from the little fitting dais that Evie’s got set up, and does a little runway walk over to the mirror propped against the far wall of the studio. “It’s not bad.” she admits, swishing the flowy skirt around her legs. “I like the pleats.”

Evie tries not to talk up her own accomplishments more than absolutely necessary, but Mal does look a full treat. “Told you,” she says, because well, she did. “Lift your arms, how’s that?”

Mal raises her arms above her head obediently, and gives a little wave. “Good.” she says, and shakes her shoulders out, like she’s dancing. The dress shifts with her, fabric floating along the elegant lines of her body. “I like it.”

“Excellent. Let me see you now, give me a twirl.” Evie says, gesturing. Her own dress is a simple one, form-fitting black with a sheer blue jacket that leaves her arms free for pinning and fitting her designs. It’s one of her new favorites, now that she’s been doing a lot more of the actual work end of her business lately, and a bit less of the studying end. She’s still got her team, of course, and two years of business management classes have taught her how to manage all the loose ends of the little world she’s made for herself, but it’s still nice to have a reliable outfit stable for getting shit done in.

Mal twirls. The hem lasts for two rotations, and then Mal, being herself, even though they’re old enough to know better, gets too excited and spins fast enough to make her hair fly up. The hem, predictably, falls out.

Mal looks guiltily up at Evie. “Oops.” she says, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “You might need to re-pin that one.”

Of course Mal wants to make them go through the process again. Evie should serve her right and make her hold her own pins this time, just to give their boy a break.

“That’s fine, I’ll get it set back up where you need it.” Evie says instead, kneeling down to gather the loose edge back up again. It’s not so bad really, just the front piece that’s come undone from her loose attempt at figuring out how high Mal will want her hem. “I’m gonna leave a pretty generous hem this time, just in case we need to take it out more later.”

“In case what, I need to run away again and we don’t do this for another month?” Mal says bitterly. “That’s clever of you. Knowing when I’m going to have another breakdown.”

“Or if you want to wear the dress again, M.” Evie says gently, repinning the soft fabric. “That’s also a thing you can do.”

“People will talk.”

“And what, are you going to listen?” Evie asks, glancing up at Mal from where she’s almost finished getting the skirt up again. “Don’t take criticism from people you wouldn’t go to for advice, babe. I don’t care what the gossip rags say about your outfits, and neither should you. I can make you something blingy to wear over it, if you need to change it up that badly.”

“No!” Mal exclams, smoothing a hand over the top of the dress, where it drapes over the faintly rounded curve of her belly. “I like how it is. Don’t change a thing.”

“Don’t complain if you don’t want to hear my solutions!” Evie says, gesturing with an empty hand. “You’re all pinned up again, if you want to get out of this and let my pin boy do his work with you.”

Mal does crack a smile at that. “Ooh, and what kind of work could that be, I wonder?” she asks, eyes sparkling. “I’ve heard good things about his handicrafts, but if you’re still going to use him for any other projects I’m sure I could find other ways to work with him.”

Evie glances over, just to make sure they’re all good.

Ben meets her eyes. He’s looking a little bit dreamy, but not like he’s in the stratosphere just yet. They’re fine. “I do have a few more designs that could use work,” Evie admits. “And it is easier to get those woven patterns you like nailed down if I’ve got a second pair of hands at my disposal.”

Mal smooths her skirt again. “I think it would be nice,” she says, looking at the both of them, watching them watch each other, “If we could. Uh. Test out the versatility of this dress.”

“See how it’s going to hold up for some extracurriculars?” Evie offers, sweetly. “Test the range of movement you’ve got in the legs?”

Mal’s a blusher, which is unfortunate for her and very fortunate for her partners. “Maybe I want to make sure it’s going to fit a little something else under the skirt?” she says, going for lofty and disinterested, and ending up somewhere around nervous-pleased and eager. “It’s important that it can accomodate, uh, my changing body?”

Good lord, if this is what Evie’s going to be dealing with in miniature she’s never going to make it through their kid’s youth. “You can do all the testing you need, so long as you don’t break anything and you have him back in one piece for the next time I need a helper, m’kay?” she says, and gives Ben a little nod.

He takes the cue, which is good, because it means he’s still in the game. It’s easy enough for Evie to guide the two of them, both of her beautiful idiots, over to the gold fainting couch she’s got in the corner for exactly this purpose. It’s not exactly set up for three, but it’s a simple enough switch for Evie to slip herself down beside Mal, half behind her, so that she can get her mouth on that soft spot behind her ear where she likes to be kissed. It takes a second longer for their boy to finish settling into his own position, but that’s to be expected when she’s got him helping like this. It wouldn’t do to have the help in place before they want him there. This is for Mal, after all.

Speaking of. With all the work that Evie’s just been putting in on the skirt, it wouldn’t do to have Mal messing that up either. Evie reaches down and flips it up, leaving Mal’s pale thighs exposed to the light.

Ah, and their boy is in place now. Good.

Evie trails soft fingertips down Mal’s side, until she’s got her nails, matte red and dark like old blood today, on the pale edge of her skin where it meets the dark fabric of her undergarments.

Ben is keeping his hands to himself, because he’s a good boy who knows what they need from him. He leans his head against Mal’s inner leg instead, nudging his mouth up against the opposite side as Evie’s fingertips.

“Mally,” Evie asks sweetly, directly into her girlfriend’s ear. “Do you want more from us?”

Mal shivers in response, which could be good or bad, and then pushes up into the touch. “Yes,” she breathes, and turns her head to press her next words up against Evie’s lips. “Please, Eves. Need you both.”

#my fic #descendants fanfiction #mal bertha #evie grimhilde #ben florian #malvie #bal?#idk if there's a ship tag for the three of them together #this is slightly SPICY consider this a warning #1am.....feels like the right time to post this yeah

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flowerwrites06 · 4 years

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make-up sex with joon. needing angst, fluffy and smutty pls 🥺

here you goo nonnie bb 🥺 i got a little too excited with this drabble in terms of the angst but I’ve tried my best to keep a good flow gjgkerjg I hope you like it!

Pairing: Business man!Namjoon x Cafe owner!Y/N

Warnings: marital arguments, lots of career undermining stuff, stress, frustration, explicit smut

Your arguments were brief and mature on most days. Today wasn’t that day. Stresses of the day flooded and poisoned with impatience; silence between you thickened into unsaid tension. Namjoon fought with his associates day and night as their income thinned. Their business close to ruin. Your café began slowing down with customers. The both of you had enough sense to reassure yourselves that it was temporary and it would fade through time.

Namjoon came to an empty home from work which only emptied his aching chest. Rubbing his dried face, he pulled open the fridge and grabbed a beer bottle. Usually the cartons would last a good few months. Only two remained. He downed burning liquid, blazer lazily dropped onto dining chair.

The door opened to you letting out a deep breath. Your uniform soaked in your sweat, hair sticking to the back of your skin. Why did it have to be summer at such a time? You remembered when the warm gold rays touching your flesh was a blessing. Now it was just a nuisance.

“I brought some leftovers,” you said in a slight slur. The café had some sandwiches and milk tea left much to your relief since no one was at home to cook today. You popped the sandwiches in the microwave.

Namjoon grimaced at the food. “How long has that been in the café?”

You took off your hat, frowning at his comment. “I made it fresh in the morning.”

“Doesn’t smell fresh anymore,” he mumbled under his breath.

Anger flickered in your tired eyes. “Well, you can make your own food if you want.” Your voice tightened.

Namjoon took another chug, uncaring of his own frustrations. The alcohol was only lowering his ability to filter himself but he didn’t want to stop. “You’re the professional café owner here.”

“So I’m supposed to cook everything?” You glared at him.

“Do you expect me to cook after I come back from work?” Namjoon waved his hand to the buzzing microwave.

“I work as long as you do, Namjoon.”

The sound of his own name uttered from your lips made his stomach lurch. He couldn’t remember the last time you would call out a sweet nickname or a smile. “You’d think we’d have tons of money by now, wouldn’t you?”

“Why’re you bringing money into this?” You winced as Namjoon downed the last sips of his bottle. “Why do you always have to bring this up? You can do what you love and I can’t?”

“Now you’re just putting words in my mouth.” Namjoon threw the bottle in the rubbish bin.

You tightened your jaw. “If you don’t want the sandwich, you can order takeout.”

“I don’t want takeout.”

“Then make something on your own!” You took a deep breath, rubbing your temple as the microwave beeped. “I’m not going argue about this, okay?”

“I’m not arguing about it.” Namjoon shrugged. “I’m just saying other spouses are able to make time and cook for their partners.”

“You mean Miyoung?” Bitterness laced in your tone. If it wasn’t arguing about work and life balance, Namjoon only talked about a married woman who worked in his office. Kim Miyoung. Always cooking wonderful meals for her husband no matter how many work hours she had. What an angel.

“I didn’t say anything about her.”

“But you’re implying it.”

“So you’re just going to demonize for an implication?”

“I’m not demonizing you for anything!” You slammed the containers into the rubbish bin. Grabbing onto the edge of the counter, you took a deep breath. “You always mention her whenever you’re trying to belittle my work.”

“I wasn’t belittling your work!”

“What do you think you’re doing then?!”

“I’m saying that you can leave your dumb café for a few hours to cook!” Namjoon felt a wave of twisted relief saying it. He hated it. He hated that for a split second, it was the only thing that brought him some kind of catharsis.

“My dumb café is putting more money in our bank account while you jack off to Miyoung,” you seethed. Eyes glossed from burning tears of frustration. Namjoon used to be her safe haven after a stressful day at work. All of this words of encouragement pushed her up to build her business and now it was enough to leave just so she could make a few meals. “If you want meals for us then you can make them.”

Namjoon scoffed with a bitter smile. “You really think we’d be in this fancy apartment if I quit my job? I bet you wouldn’t care if I jacked off to Miyoung so long as you kept that expensive as fuck wedding ring.”

You pressed her trembling lips together. Whatever hunger that had been twisting at your stomach now numbed. Replaced with a sense of nausea and pain in your chest. “You want the ring back?” You pulled off the ring, the silver trying to latch onto your skin until it finally slid off almost reluctantly. You slammed it on the kitchen counter. “Take it.” Your voice cracked. “Buy yourself someone who make meals for you all day and night.”

Something teared inside him when he saw the ring pulled off of your finger. Namjoon stammered. “Don’t—” A cold wave of clarity burned with guilt squeezing in between his ribcages.

Exhaustion flooded over you. All you could think to do was turn your heel and rush up the stairs. Hot tears trailed down your cheeks only strengthening the headache that was already pulsating at your temples.

***

Namjoon made his way to the bedroom and found it empty. Whenever you needed your space, you would rest in the guest room until things cooled down. He had your wedding ring in his hand, the silver still warm from touching your skin. A small way to comfort him that this argument was something you could come back from.

Anger still seeped through his veins from the things you said but he took it too far. Comparing another person to you. Namjoon threw his head in frustration. He wanted to say something so badly at the moment that he couldn’t hold it in.

One rule they had was to never go to bed while they were angry. So Namjoon took a quick shower and got into comfortable clothes. He took a few breaths before gaining the courage to walk to the guest room.

He knocked on the door three times. “Can we talk?”

“Okay.”

Namjoon opened the door find you looking at your phone. Your hair was damp, body adorned with a large black t-shirt and some white socks. There was a bandage on her calf that he didn’t recognize. “How’d you get that?”

You looked down at the scar and immediately tried to cover it. “There was a loose screw thing in the storage room and I cut myself yesterday,” you replied simply.

Namjoon felt another squeeze in his chest. You would always tell him whenever you got hurt just to get cuddles or a kiss. He’d do the same too. The closeness they used to feel before. He was more desperate for it now than ever before. He sat down on the side of the bed, caressing the ring. “You’re a really hard worker and a great business owner. I’m sorry I said all those things. I don’t think about Miyoung like that. Everything’s just been so stressful, I didn’t know where else or how else to get it all out.”

“I’m sorry too. You contribute so much to our life, I shouldn’t undermined it. I just got a little threatened.” You chuckled nervously. “Can you forgive me?”

“Can you forgive me?”

You nodded, desperate to have this stupid tension be over.

“Will you let me take your hand in marriage again?” Namjoon grinned, reaching his hand out.

You accepted his hand, smiling down as he gently placed the ring on your finger. Sniffling, you climbed onto his lap and kissed him.

Namjoon hummed as the weight lifted off his body, melting into your touch and slipping his tongue through your teeth. Heat radiated from your form, your hips grinding at his crotch.

It’d been so long. The long untouched nerves came shivering back in such desperation that you whimpered against his lips. His crotch tightened and hardened at your every grind.

Namjoon latched onto your neck, unrelenting to breaking a single touch. “I can’t—wait long,” he whispered. So full and ready from the months to staying apart.

You didn’t need a second word before you lifted your hips. A sense of accomplishment ran through you when he jutted his hips. Pulling his boxers a few inches way down, Namjoon pushed your panties aside. His member rubbed against your sodden entrance. Without a single warning, you slid down.

The tightness hugged him, soaking him with warm nectar. You lifted up just enough to close on his tip before slamming down making Namjoon grip your thighs. He pushed up your T-shirt, digging his nails into your ass. You grinned in mischief, lifting and slamming down again. “I missed you, baby.”

“I missed you too, sweetheart,” he growled. “Fuck, I missed you too.” Namjoon guided your thrusts, pounding deep into you until he heard those pleasured cries. He was too heavy, too full. His lower belly, desperate moan passing his lips as he came undone. Warm liquid flooded inside you. “Dammit,” he whispered but it only made you giggle. “I’m so—”

“Sshh, I’m not done yet.” You quickened your thrusts. Hand between your legs, you rubbed between your glistening lips. Ivory nectar dripped out of you as Namjoon let out a string of whimpers from his sensitivity. You missed the way he winced when you pushed him over the edge. The familiar warm ball in your lower belly grew until you were full of its heat.

Then the beautiful explosion. A smile tugged at your lips, your walls pulsating around his length making him whine and tremble along to your rhythm. You let out another giggle as your body filled with bliss. “We should wait this long more often,” you teased.

“Never again.” Namjoon laughed breathlessly.

#drabbles #drabble game #namjoon imagines #bts imagines #Anonymous

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sepublic · 4 years

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Reset Eda?

So @kprapture brought up the idea of Eda being de-aged back to her pre-curse self, the typical antics she’d get into with Luz… And how Lilith might consider the idea of making this reversal, this reset, permanent- So Eda could live the curse-free life she properly deserved, with a support network of a wiser Lilith, Luz and King, a Hexside that would let her study multiple tracks, etc. And this idea is just messing me up, because…

There are two ways to approach this. Option A, Reset Eda has no memories of her original life growing up, getting old from the curse, meeting Luz, etc. Option B, Reset Eda DOES retain those memories;

Option A would be messed-up, because it wouldn’t just kill the Eda we know… It’d effectively wipe her out of existence. If there’s an afterlife for the Boiling Isles, which there probably is since the Oracle Coven exists, and we’ve already seen at least one ghost in this show… Then, I don’t see Eda choosing this option on her deathbed, because then she’d never move on to the afterlife, maybe never get to see her parents, and then catch up with her loved ones when THEY inevitably die…

The thing about Eda, is- I think she doesn’t regret her life. She doesn’t regret the decisions she’s made, and ultimately she’s content where she’s ended up, especially since Luz and King are there. Having written about her in the past, I see Eda as someone who if given the chance to change it all, would have it remain the same; Yeah, her life isn’t ideal, but still. Eda owns what happened to her, she makes it her own, and I don’t think she’d want to let go of that, alongside her sense of identity…

Now, there ARE better ways to learn the things that Eda, ways that are less painful and torturous. Whatever Eda learned from the curse, she could’ve easily learned without it- It’s why she’s so adamant as a teacher towards protecting Luz from the traumas that Eda herself endured… Because Eda knows that Luz can learn just the same things she did, without having to go through that pointless pain. And maybe some lessons just aren’t worth it, but what’s done is done so you may as well make the most of the knowledge you got. That trauma isn’t going away… Except in this scenario, it could.

It’s kind of an ethical dilemma, and I could potentially imagine Eda maybe, just maybe, considering ‘sacrificing’ her entire existence up until this point, to pave the way for a better, happier Reset Eda… I’ve talked a lot about Eda being used to loss and trying to weaponize and make the most of it by turning into a sacrifice for the greater good, for someone else to benefit from her tragedies. Maybe Eda might see it this way- Giving up her life so some other kid, as this Reset Eda would be considered ‘different’ from her, can have a happy and better life…

But the thing is; Eda’s life is saving, she knows this, an entire crowd knows this and protested against Belos over this indisputable reality. She doesn’t have to die, just to ‘save’ a life that neither exists, nor is meant to… Eda can invest that energy into other kids who already exist, or are intended to be by their would-be parents, and she certainly doesn’t have to DIE just to make life better for them! Eda can even invest that energy into making herselfhappier, her own life better… Yes, her time on this world has unfortunately been shortened thanks to the curse, but it’s still there and remaining, and Eda DID have plenty of time with it that she ultimately made the most of.

I’ve written about it before, but I think that Eda would ultimately decide not to change a thing, she made it clear to Lilith that living as a wild witch would’ve happened even without the curse, and that was Eda’s intention as a child before she learned of the curse no less. And, I can see Reset Eda agreeing… Because if Reset Eda is presented with this reality, with Luz and King and Lilith explaining how she grows up with a curse, and the kind of life she lives… Well, we see how young Eda casually tosses aside the Coven System to her sister. She’s very much Go Big or Go Home, the kind of person who fully commits to her own actions and owns them, fully accepting what happens. I think Reset Eda would at least appreciate the perspective she’d get from her cursed life, and how it can be helpful towards vouching for that kind of thing to never exist for anyone else…

Now, Reset Eda might hesitate about getting cursed- But if it’s to save and retain herself in a sense, her own actions and accomplishments, a life she made for herself and was proud of? I think Reset Eda would shrug, and ask Lilith and the others to bring it on, to bring her back to the present- Because she’s impatient to get to that point, I imagine Reset Eda would ‘miss’ her life as Eda the Owl Lady, sister to Lilith, surrogate mother to Luz and King, creator of Owlbert, begrudging acquaintance of Hooty, etc.

Her cursed life wasn’t ideal, but there’s something good and irreplaceable to it, just as each and every person is unique in their own special way; And Reset Eda wouldn’t want to lose something that had existed and is at stake here, just for a life that never actually did. Even if her life was garbage, well- Eda is always someone who finds meaning and value from garbage, and even creates it when none is there, or disagrees with the purpose others originally intended anyway! She says how she feels about what she has in life, not others!

Reset Eda might agree with her older self about getting that better life for other kids, like Luz, because that’s what Eda DID work on doing, and she made some decent success at this no less! Of course, I can imagine some initial angst and dilemma, as Reset Eda isn’t as wise as our Eda- So it might take her longer to reach this conclusion, or she’d be a bit more hesitant. But then again, Young/Reset Eda openly defied the Coven System to the Emperor’s Coven own face, publically… So she seems both proud and unapologetic about her choices, to the point of fully owning the consequences and trouble that come with them- Just like our Eda. We don’t know the exact differences between Young Eda and our Eda, but we know that there are a lot of fundamental similarities in ideals.

Plus, I imagine that if Reset Eda were to be undone, and returned to the Eda we know… Well, she’d retain her memories of having been ‘reset’, as a young Eda who suddenly woke up surrounded by Luz and King and a much older Lilith, and got to know them and her own future before making the decision to keep it. It’d be sweet for Eda to reflect on what just happened and what she missed, to look at Luz and the others… And then smile and nod, remarking that she’s really missed this and definitely wouldn’t have given it up for anything. Besides, it’s not like she’d deprive Luz and the others of the Eda they know and love, she’s not going to do away with that Owl Lady, any time soon! Reset Eda would still ‘remain’, she just wouldn’t have lived out THAT life… In exchange for retaining her cursed one. Harsh, but she’s not losing anything that was ever actually, already there.

And Reset Eda, the one we meet after the initial reversal, she’d still exist, she’d still live on in our Eda… The only thing she’d have lost was the potential of that new life, but would she really give up her past one for that? Young Eda couldn’t bear being at the top of a system that hurt and oppressed others… And while she may be apprehensive about getting cursed, it’s not like she has to relive it, just bring back the effects, and restore her old self. Like I said, Young Eda already planned to be a wild witch; I think she’d be fine with a curse, if it meant saving her old life and self in the process, VS sacrificing it entirely just to have no curse…

…But, this gets us onto Option B; The idea of Reset Eda retaining her memories, in which case… She’s literally just OUR Eda, just with a heavy dosage of Youth Elixir and no curse. In which case, I can definitely see her being a lot more open to the idea… Maybe a bit hesitant, because she doesn’t want to outlive her sister, Lilith- But Lilith would definitely reassure Eda that the two will catch up in the afterlife anyway, when Eda herself has to inevitably kick the bucket, curse or no curse. I could see Eda having concerns about the logistics of being much younger, but in the end… I can legitimately imagine Eda accepting this option alongside the others. It’d be weird having the body of a very young kid with the mind of a fully-grown adult, and no doubt very awkward… It’d definitely make most romantic relationships a very touchy subject that’s probably to be avoided; But in the end, I think Eda’s already content with the familial bonds she has with the others.

Eda would hate to have her youth restored, and be cured of the curse while watching Lilith bear it on her own… But I could see Lilith reassuring her that she already lived plenty of years without the curse, anyway. And she still has a support network, her worst guilt and sins would be alleviated almost entirely… I think Lilith would be very much fine, because she’s going to grow old and die either way. This way, however, she has Eda the whole way through- Because if we’re being brutally honest, regular Eda is probably going to die of old age before Lilith. So to Lilith, having her little sister, happy and living a new and better life, while still retaining her old one… Having THAT Eda by her deathbed, that’s much better than being without Edalyn entirely.

Plus, maybe a youth-restored Eda could just… Douse an aging potion to match her biological age with her chronological one, if she really had reservations- Doing so would still leave out the curse, depending on how this reset works. And, who’s to say Eda won’t try to apply this spell to Lilith as well? Have them BOTH have their bodies reset but their memories and life retained… Of course, this option sounds extremely ideal, so I can see it not happening for this exact reason; As well as any other variation of Option B, for that matter.

Lilith, however… This is Lilith we’re talking about here. I’ve talked about how she may have already learned some lessons, and is likely bound to do so before this Reset option occurs. If it were Option B, it’d probably go on without too much of a hitch… But Option A? In a scenario where Reset Eda decides that she wants to go back to her old, cursed life? I can see Lilith not only disagreeing, but… Maybe becoming SO adamant, that she refuses to undo the reversal, at any cost! Because to her, Eda’s lost potential, the life she deserved but never got; It’s her worst sin by far. It’s her worst guilt that killed and ate her up from the inside for decades, and it’d be SO easy, so relieving to just let it go, to just undo it… While STILL making things right, right?

The thing about Lilith is that she’s willing to go lengths for Eda- Even go as far as threatening Eda’s own kid, Luz, just to cure her curse. Sure, she’d have made some character development by then and already has… But on the chance of actually curing Eda’s curse, AND saving her from all of that trauma and pain, getting her that life she never got- Something not even Belos could provide? That’s going to really complicate things, and I can see Lilith conveniently ignoring the reality that this option would kill our Eda, because… She really doesn’t want to dwell on the ethical dilemma of it all, she just wants an easy out and it’s so easy to relapse into this mistake, especially since it’s a much more understandable scenario for her.

But, again- Lilith has learned to respect Eda’s decisions, and if she really retains and applies her lessons, then she’ll do so, even in this case where it seems like she could have it all… Because she DOES love our Eda, the one who grew up cursed, she does do so unconditionally- So it WOULD hurt her to sacrifice that Eda for a new, reset one… And that’s something Lilith is going to have to acknowledge. That this isn’t just her own loss she has to factor in, it’s Luz and King’s and the others’… On top of Eda herself being deleted and not exactly wanting that. Could Lilith bear to kill her own sister? Obviously not… And it’d be a painful and begrudging realization, a frustrating one that Lilith would so badly want to ignore, to set aside…

But, she can’t- She knows it deep down, in her heart, and once it’s there, it’s there to stay, just like the curse… Once again, Lilith is going to have to be mature, because the LAST time she did something harmful to Eda, believing it was for her own good- It didn’t pan out. And the last time she harmed Eda just for her own selfish desires –the curse- that REALLY didn’t play out well… Lilith is no doubt going to be grappling with misguidance, a genuine desire to help Eda, her own selfish desire to alleviate her guilt, etc. She’s going to confuse how much of herself is doing this for Eda, or just for her own conscience… But when it becomes clear that Reset Eda wants to go back, Lilith is going to have to admit that once again, she’s being selfish and making Eda’s decisions for her.

Especially with Luz and King to serve as pretty harsh reminders of what Lilith did, and force her to reflect on what she’s done in the past, to always remember that. Lilith is going to hate it, she’s going to hate herself the entire process through, and maybe feel even worse for letting this opportunity slip through her fingers… Having hope built up, only to be brought crashing down, harder than ever- But I imagine that once Lilith reunites with HER Eda, the one who grew old and cursed… She’s going to realize how much she missed her, and be glad she got her sister back. She might mourn the potential of Reset Eda, but that life never existed and wasn’t going to- And again, like Eda, Lilith can invest her energy and efforts into making lives better for other people… And Eda REALLY wants Luz to have it good, so…!

Still- Imagine Lilith being so desperate, so drawn to the idea of erasing and relieving her past mistakes, believing that she’s helping Eda that she… Legit has to fight Luz and Reset Eda over bringing back OUR Eda- And maybe during the fight, we get to see Reset Eda’s prowess as a child, leading to Lilith reminding her that doesn’t it feel good to have full, unrestricted access to magic? Isn’t Eda glad she has it now, surely doesn’t want to LOSE this, does she…? Kind of a callback to Agony of a Witch, how Lilith goads and taunts Eda about the curse, as if to smugly remind Eda why she should join the Emperor’s Coven to be cured.

Surely Eda has to see her point by now, obviously Eda can’t be in so much denial when the proof is right there in her face, because this fight makes it so obvious. In Agony of a Witch, the duel made it clear how much magic Eda has lost and is losing and it’s why she needs a cure- And now this time, the duel makes it clear to Reset Eda how much she has to lose, and what’s at stake for her. Either way, attention is drawn to Eda’s magical ability in that fight and how it’s doing, what she WILL lose should she not listen to Lilith, and how it must be preserved…

And that’ll make Reset Eda hesitate, because she knows that she’ll lose that magic if she goes down the cursed path… And that might cause the most reservations about her choice- Up until she sees Luz fighting alongside her, sees how proficient Luz is with Glyphs… And then Reset Eda realizes she still learned bile-magic as an adult, and got the chance to start with glyphs as well! She’s even got Owlbert, so Eda won’t be entirely bile-less… Reset Eda would realize she’d lose magic, but Luz would show her that she doesn’t have to completely give up magic, just one form of it. And, yeah- Ideally, Reset Eda could grow up with access to bile magic AND glyphs. But again, considering who’s at stake here… Reset Eda would see it as simply not worth it, especially when her own self seemed pretty pleased about the outcome- And our Eda is a lot older, wiser, and more experienced… Our Eda managed to live her own life, help people and inspire them in a lot of ways, and taught Luz!

Our Eda made Owlbert, established the Owl House, became reputed as an unstoppable criminal and one of the hottest witches around… I think Reset Eda would consider our Eda as someone worth looking up to, and emulating. It’s kind of funny- The idea of her looking to herself, the best version of herself, as a role model… Which I guess just echoes what the Oracle Sphere told Gus- That he’s always the best version of himself. Sometimes who you are and are bound to become is great enough as-is, and I think that’s a realization that Eda figured without any divination artifact… If Eda really is so sure of herself, then she can trust the decisions she’s made in the future- Especially since Reset Eda is already leaning heavily towards those beliefs herself!

And Lilith… if Lilith realized that she needed to listen to Eda and trust her, back when they were kids AND when they were older… Then she’s going to have to stop. Because Our Eda and Reset Eda are making it obvious what she’s choosing, and Lilith needs to recognize that while she shouldn’t avoid helping others- Disregarding what people choose for themselves because she thinks it’s best for them, is something that has only caused others and herself pain in the past… It’s something Lilith deliberately tried to avoid for years, even, when she insisted on protecting Eda from the Emperor’s Coven, until the allure of Belos’ cure and his threats got to her. Does Lilith want to erase her progress, her lessons? Obviously there were better ways to learn such wisdom than from cursing her own sister…

But in the end, what’s done is done. If her lessons and development truly stick, then she’ll finally learn to let go when she has every reason and desire, both selfish and altruistic, in the world not to. Because when she realizes she’s fighting her own sister again- Lilith is going to remember how Eda lost her magic because of this. She’s going to remember how much it breaks her heart to be at odds, that Reset Eda WILL hold this against her… And Lilith can’t just be content with losing her sister’s love under the hopes that Eda herself will fare better without her. Just like that fateful ‘duel’ when they were kids, Lilith will realize that she’s really only doing this for herself- And she’ll stop what she’s doing in remorse, because she can’t let history repeat itself in her attempts to undo it.

This would just leave an even stronger impact on Reset/Our Eda when it’s all over… And this kind of respect towards Eda’s autonomy, this final concession of her choices, will really show to Eda that Lilith now truly understands her after all this time, and I think Lilith will have a new future to look forward to with her sister because of this. Eda DOES want to be with her sister, just on her own proper terms… So maybe Lilith can properly provide this happiness for once, and continue to do so! Don’t take it away like last time… Because Eda also cares for Lilith as well and knows she’ll be happier this way, and THAT makes Eda happy in her own way! It’s not hopeless, either- Lilith is sharing the curse, and they’ll do it together as always… Lilith may have hurt Eda in her attempts to be together, but that doesn’t mean separating the two will make them any better or happier- Not when years of loneliness has indicated otherwise.

And I can just imagine Lilith and Luz having a heartfelt, teary goodbye to Reset Eda… Before she casually explains that she’ll still be around when she goes back to normal, she’s just giving up a life that never came back to be, to return to the one she always had! And as I said before… Reset Eda returns to normal, she opens her eyes, and proves that she remembered everything that happened then; And she appreciates how she can affirm her decisions in life, because when given the choice to undo them… Eda decided to keep going through with it, even knowing exactly what laid ahead of her- Maybe even precisely because of this, because look around her! That’s what she’s getting… Eda knows for sure that she wouldn’t change a thing, and it’ll just make her so much more proud and confident of who she is and what she does because of this!

#the owl house #toh #the owl house eda #edalyn clawthorne #toh eda #the owl house lilith #lilith clawthorne #au #speculation #meta

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dangan-meme-palace · 4 years

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Analysis – Kokichi's Plan in Chapter 4

The concept, the execution, and the failure.

Before we start, it's my personal recommendation that you read this analysis before rewatching the chapter 4 trial, and then reading it as you rewatch it. Unfortunately, due to tumblr limiting the number of pictures I can put in a single post, I've decided to refrain from adding screenshots as I just have too many I want to add. However, my points are evidenced by the trial itself if you watch carefully with them in mind, and so I'm encouraging you to do so. Please, please do so.

Concept

By my analysis, Kokichi's plan was to implicate himself as the culprit and for Gonta to get away with the murder in order to mercy kill the rest of the students and save them from despair.

Kokichi mentions this much before and after the trial, most people remembering the moments after and not the moments before; probably because between subtle admittance and loud screaming and crying, you'll remember the screaming and crying more. This analysis is based on the fact that his words pre- and post-trial are true, which is backed by several canon instances and also it just makes sense.

Execution

Now! This plan required a few things to work:

It required Kokichi to make everyone hate and be suspicious of him

It required Gonta to cooperate

It required Kokichi to be able to get around Shuichi's deductive reasoning in some way

It required a majority of the class to vote for Kokichi

If that wording seems specific, it's because it is!

I'll be talking about each major component of this plan and how each factor (almost) worked together to create a perfect storm + when, how, and why this plan failed despite quite frankly being a fantastic display of Kokichi's talent as the Ultimate (Supreme) Leader.

The 1st component is pretty much accomplished before the chapter even begins, he is a self-proclaimed liar that annoys people regularly after all, but in order for the 3rd and 4th components to really work he needed to sink his reputation even lower. He does this in a multitude of ways both before and during the trial: making sinister faces or looking nervous at appropriate times, antagonizing everyone (but most importantly Gonta and Kaito), and just in general being a lying nuisance that no one really wants to listen to.

The 2nd component was accomplished inside the Virtual World... and then immediately undone as soon as Gonta logged out due to a couple of crossed wires. The fact that Gonta forgot remaining undiscovered by everyone (including Kokichi) until two-thirds of the way through the trial is important to how the plan failed and adds perspective in areas, but I'll hold off on explaining why until it's time to talk about it in-depth. Make a mental note and let's move on.

The 3rd component explains why during the investigation every single surviving member of the cast told Shuichi that they trusted him but then when we get really into the trial we start seeing them doubt him immensely, Kaito being among the people that doubted Shuichi the most. Why is that? How did everyone go from relying on Shuichi to thinking for themselves and doubting his reasoning, and what does it have to do with Kokichi? It's simple: Kokichi lead the others into doing so.

We see this a lot during the investigation period, or at least the prep work of it. Kokichi constantly encourages the others to say things like: "We can't leave this all to Shuichi, we have to work hard too!" by telling them that they should all rely on Shuichi and to never doubt his judgment. Kokichi was using his bad reputation to make them come to a conclusion that is the exact opposite of what he said. More on that a little later as well!

Kokichi knows his reputation, he's the one that made it that way after all, and frequently you will see him use it to his advantage. Whether he's trying to cover up an emotional outburst or he's trying to make someone admit something, you will often see him use his reputation as someone untrustworthy to lead conversations in subtle ways.

I use the word "lead" with great emphasis as that is his Talent. He is the very best of the best at leading people; The Ultimate (Supreme) Leader. When he wants someone to think a certain way or do something they end up doing it whether they realize it or not, because he is extremely talented in his field. I cannot stress enough how good this man is at leading conversations and people into going where he wants them to go. Oh shit back to the point–!

During this time we also see Kokichi acting strange, so strange that Shuichi mentions it four times in his internal dialogue. Following him, being helpful, offering advice and hints... it seems nice until you realize his intention wasn't to become good partners with Shuichi, but to instead ruin Shuichi's reputation with the others by having them associate Shuichi with Kokichi, who they already hate thanks to component 1.

During the trial you'll see this subtle manipulation working as soon as Kokichi starts calling Shuichi partner and making Shuichi agree with his points, putting on a false show of partnership. To the others it seemed that Shuichi was picking Kokichi over all of his friends even when Shuichi himself tries to explain otherwise, and this is absolutely no coincidence.

Kaito is especially affected by this because Kaito and Kokichi are sworn enemies, and in Kaito's mind, Shuichi just picked his enemy over him. It really hurt him to be "betrayed" like this, causing Kaito to turn his back on Shuichi despite the numerous promises that he would never do such a thing he made prior to this trial. Kokichi really focuses on breaking their friendship too, interrupting Shuichi multiple times when he tries to tell Kaito that it's not personal and making sinister faces while saying that Shuichi is his partner now, taunting and gloating to Kaito's face about the loss of his sidekick. Breaking them apart was actually key to how Kokichi used Kaito's influence to his advantage in component 4.

Focus on Kaito aside, everyone else also refuses to agree with Kokichi –and Shuichi by association– which means that no matter what Shuichi says or how hard he tries to prove it, as long as Kokichi interrupts him and spins the story to make it look like he was somehow involved in that deduction, no one will agree with Shuichi no matter how much logic he throws at them. He has placed Shuichi's deductions in a permanent state of check. No matter what Shuichi says or does, Kokichi can and will get in the way of it immediately to control the narrative of the trial.

During this time Kokichi also says that Gonta is the culprit and I know that it tripped a lot of people up so I'll elaborate on what he was doing before we get to the next component. You have to remember that Kokichi's style of lying for this trial has predominantly been him saying the exact opposite of what he means in order to make the others do it. If Kokichi says "go left" they will all go right, that is how he uses his reputation. Notice how when he says Gonta is the culprit everyone's immediate reaction is to defend Gonta and persecute Kokichi even more than they were before, effectively framing himself by making it look like he was framing Gonta. When looking at Kokichi's lies it is sometimes essential to analyze the reaction he got than the lie on it's own because what he wants out of people is just as important as what he says to make them do it.

This leads into the 4th component: Kokichi getting the majority vote.

Kaito unquestionably holds the most influence in the trial after Shuichi loses all of his, gaining more by spearheading the hate campaign against Kokichi, and because of this everyone almost lost their lives in a mass execution.

After Shuichi's reputation in the eyes of the others is seen as being led astray and therefore less trustworthy, Kaito is the one that causes and loudly encourages everyone to rally against Kokichi, and by extension, doubt Shuichi's deductions. Kaito doing this more out of a hatred/distrust of Kokichi than anything related to Shuichi, with the rest following suit because they can't trust Kokichi, who they've been lead to hate so much in this trial by both Kaito and, unbeknownst to them, Kokichi. Kokichi essentially created his own witch hunt, with the cast's irrational anger without proof almost leading to a false conviction.

Allow me to further emphasize the fact that everyone but Shuichi was convinced that "Kokichi was a cold-hearted murderer trying to frame poor Gonta for his own crimes." Also allow me to remind you that according to the rules you don't need everyone to vote for the same person in order to win, you just need a majority. Kokichi had that majority and was about to "win" the trial.

...So why didn't he?

Failure

Two. Crossed. Wires.

That's it. All it took was one little piece to be out of place and Kokichi's astonishingly brilliant strategy crumbled in an instant. Allow me to clarify:

Everyone remembers the moment when Kokichi yelled at Gonta, right? The big, bad moment? That one? Good. I'm about to explain to you what Kokichi was thinking while he yelled.

In Kokichi's mind, his plan was almost complete. He had done the impossible! Everything had gone according to keikaku! He had gotten Gonta's cooperation, he made everyone blame him, he made everyone stop listening to the Ultimate Detective, all that was left was for Gonta to condemn him in front of the others and they would all vote for the wrong man. That one little nudge at this very crucial turning point and the plan would finally be complete, his effort made to bear fruit...

Except... Gonta never condemned Kokichi with any sort of evidence, all he said was "I don't know!" and "I didn't do it!" Gonta was about to trip them at the finish line and so Kokichi, as subtly as he could, told Gonta to blame him, the "culprit". Once, twice, a third time... he really tried to explain to Gonta what he was meant to do without alerting the others. It didn't even have to be true, as long as Gonta denounced Kokichi with even the slightest bit of evidence, the others were in enough of a frenzy to believe anything that pinned Kokichi as the culprit. Still, Gonta doesn't catch the hints from his collaborator. How could he? He didn't remember ever becoming partners in the first place. However, Kokichi doesn't know that and gets very frustrated that Gonta is about to throw away their one ticket to stopping the game, so he screams "Just make up an excuse or whatever" in his anger, still trying to get his point across. Gonta can't fuck up now. This is their only shot. Despite this, once more Gonta doesn't know what's going on and misses his cue.

Shuichi finally notices this as well, coming to the conclusion that Gonta's avatar had been the one with the error. Kokichi quickly realizes that his partner isn't available to him anymore, his memories lost in a bundle of wires and code. The moment is over, the frenzy has cooled off by the time Shuichi was done explaining and there was no way for him to lead the conversation again after ruining his own reputation like that. The plan failed.

All because of two little wires.

From here on out we see Kokichi visibly withdraw. There isn't anything left for him to do but complete the trial and think of a new plan. He's less motivated than before, insults everyone less than before, offers his input less than before, and generally seems like he can barely keep up his facade. You can't blame him though, with everything that happened that day and the fact that it was all in vain anyway really must have taken it's toll on Kokichi. From his friend trying to kill him to trying and failing to plan around his own murder to orchestrate and get away with a mass mercy kill... it's an unbelievable understatement to say he was having a bad day.

He speeds the trial up as much as he can with Kaito stubbornly getting in the way, forcing Shuichi to cross everyone off the suspect list except for Gonta, the unwitting blackened. Whether it was out of pity for Gonta's confusion or just him wanting the trial to be over already due to emotional exhaustion, or perhaps even both, doesn't neccesarily matter. Shuichi ends the trial regardless, and it's all over. Kokichi wasn't able to save anyone from despair and two of his friends died for nothing. He has no one to rely on now and no one left would ever consider letting him close to them. Roll credits... until he comes up with a new plan moments after Gonta is executed because if there is one thing about Kokichi you can always bet on, it's his quick wit.

Afterword

Now that we're at the end, I would like to make something very clear because with how much emphasis I put on Kokichi's capabilities as a leader I'm worried that I might be misunderstood.

I do not believe Gonta was manipulated into murdering Miu. Canon proves that Gonta was a willing collaborator due to external factors not relating to Kokichi's talent as a Leader, but instead because of despair and his own desire to protect everyone and that's that.

It's not really related to this anaylsis, however if I see someone using my own analysis to try and prove that Kokichi was anything but friends with Gonta I will go apeshit. Do not fucking do that.

#kokitea #danganronpa analysis #drv3 analysis #kokichi analysis #not sure what to tag this because i dont wanna put it in the main tags...#sorry for the sheer length of the post and the fact that im unable to add a read more because im on mobile #its not d1sc 0urs3 and its not criticism so idk what i should tag this as

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slash-em-up · 4 years

Text

A Quiet Evening In: The Collector x Chromeskull

This is all smut. Rough, rowdy, bloody smut. One person in particular is to blame for this. You know who you are...

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

Asa could not have been unconscious for more than a few minutes; but that was apparently all the time Jesse needed to do his work.

The smaller man groaned as his obsidian eyes fluttered dazedly open, swallowing painfully around the bruise on his neck. A huff of breath met his bare skin as his companion observed his confusion.

Asa jerked forward, intent on returning the crushing choke-hold he’d been held in several minutes prior, only to find his arms and legs immobilized by thin lines of chord. He snarled as he struggled, unwilling to admit defeat this quickly in the game - but Jesse was having none of it.

A palm swung out quickly and caught the side of Asa’s face in a blow that would have brought a lesser man to his knees - thankfully, Asa was already sitting, splayed out on the mattress, completely exposed, and didn’t have far to fall.

His teeth snapped at the retreating hand, and Jesse broke away from sucking a deep bruise into his collar bone to reach for the phone he kept placed on his side of the bed.

‘Ah-ah old man, you’re mine tonight. I won fair and square.’

The electronic voice echoed through the cavernous room, and the bound man heaved again, attempting to buck his partner from his seat between his spread legs; but only succeeded in pressing his cock against the muscular thigh planted casually between his own.

The bastard had gotten re-dressed while he’d been… indisposed, and the expensive black fabric caressed his length in a maddening sensation.

Jesse rose just enough to smirk at Asa, the thrill of getting the better of the other man obviously doing wonders for his ego - and his arousal, if the bulge beneath his leather belt was anything to go by. The thigh was back in an instant, rubbing against his naked dick in a way that was clearly deliberate as Jesse pressed against Asa’s shoulders just enough to allow the taller man to bend him and access his chest once more.

His head dipped and Asa pursed his lips hard to keep from crying out as Jesse’s teeth sunk into the meat of his pectoral; roughly sucking but never coming quite close enough to the spot he knew would drive the bound-man mad.

It was only by Asa’s nearly super-human self-control that he was able to keep his hips from humping desperately into Jesse’s grinding thigh as the tall man switched sides, viciously attacking his sensitive nipple with teeth and lips.

His teeth bared and an involuntary keening growl left him as Jesse made his way slowly down his abdomen. Tracing each scar and mark with a playful tongue - nipping anywhere that made Asa flinch; but not truly biting until he was face-to-face with Asa’s now fully-aroused cock.

Abruptly, Jesse sat up - snapping his fingers as if he’d just remembered something important - leaving Asa to heave and writhe against his ropes in an effort to escape before the man returned.

Jesse nearly skipped back to the bed, holding aloft a silver ring.

It took Asa a moment to recognize the toy for what it was; but when he did his struggles increased ten-fold.

“Fuck you, fuck - you’re not putting that on me - fuck!”

Sadly; Jesse was a master at his work, and the ropes held - allowing the taller man to use his considerable strength to press Asa down before he slipped the chrome cock-ring over his dripping arousal.

He could only growl incoherently as Jesse lay in-between his spread and bound legs - looking for all the world like the cat that caught the canary - before beginning to mouth mercilessly at the sensitive skin along the crease of Asa’s thigh.

The first sharp bite wasn’t unexpected; but it did make him jolt. The second was even closer to his red, weeping cock, and if Asa was a lesser man he’d have been begging by now.

One of Jesse’s hands rose to play with his nipples as his mouth continued to suckle and tease Asa’s thighs.

The other slid like a serpent into the space he’d created between the bed and Asa’s body to fondle the other man’s weighty balls.

Asa did buck at this - though whether this was to knock the hand away or present the man with more skin to mark was unknown even to him.

His head tossed back and forth as Jesse switched to his other thigh, giving it the same treatment before his hand moved from his swollen sac to wet two long fingers briefly in his mouth.

“… The fuck… are you…?”

But Asa’s question was answered before it was even asked as Jesse pulled the broad man down by his hips, gripping his skin and keeping his legs spread as his fingers circled Asa’s thick cock, his balls, then down to his hole - pressing inside without pause.

Groaning at the stretch, Asa jerked his legs attempting to trap Jesse between them; but the slack on the ropes holding him spread were still too tight - all he accomplished was giving Jesse a good laugh as he began to thrust his hand roughly into the quivering hole of his partner.

Every breath exited Asa’s heaving chest in a breathy snarl as Jesse located and began to pound against his prostate, while his clever fingers wrapped teasingly around Asa’s cock and slid up and down in time with his thrusts.

The entrapped man collapsed back on the bed as Jesse’s hands abruptly left his body, only to reach and quickly undo the ropes holding his legs to the bed.

Asa sprang.

But Jesse was too quick, and ready for his attack.

A hard fist met his face like a sledge-hammer, and though he writhed and fought he still ended up tossed roughly to the floor on his knees - arms tightly bound behind him.

The blood dripped from his nose down into his mouth - giving him a feral look as he snarled and tried to whirl on Jesse; but once more the tall man had him beat.

His bruised neck was gripped tightly from behind, leaving him bent on his knees, forehead touching the cool granite floor of Jesse’s bedroom.

A flurry of colorful exclamations ran through the scientist’s head as a hand came down on the meat of his ass.

He was getting fucking spanked!

His head tossed back and forth against the floor as the painful blows rained down.

Jesse had always appreciated his ass… and he better enjoy this, because once Asa was out he was going to flay him alive.

Once the strikes ceased Asa could barely move - only peripherally taking in the sound of a zipper being undone, before Jesse’s hands were on him once more - this time taking large handfuls of his hips - pulling him up until his heated skin was met by Jesse’s own hard cock.

Asa could have cried at the sensations assaulting his body - the bruises, the bites, the blood, the god damn cock-ring - and if Jesse didn’t fuck him right now he might actually explode.

“Get inside of me Cromeans…” he snarled lowly into the silent room.

Jesse obliged.

The pair had a running bet that Jesse could always get Asa to scream for him when they fucked and he was feeling very, very close to winning that wager as his long cock sunk into the stretched hole before him.

Asa’s mouth dropped open with a loud “Ungh!” as Jesse hilted and began a punishing pace.

It was times like these that he bemoaned his lack of voice the most, because the litany of filthy praise that ran like a soundtrack in his mind every time he was able to get Asa under him would have been enough to make a piggy squirm. And he longed to see the blush he was sure would rise on the other man’s face. Still shy and unwilling to be complimented, even after all they’d done together.

This thought more than anything caused Jesse to throw his full weight into his motions, gripping the thick handfuls of skin and muscle that made up Asa’s hips like a life-line as he aimed for his prostate.

He could tell he hit it dead-on when Asa tried to bury his face in his own shoulder - muffling the rasping cry that left his bruised throat.

Each cry was hard-won and thoroughly enjoyed.

What little he could see of the man’s face was a mess of blood and sweat. His beautiful onyx eyes glazed in pleasure; but occasionally sharpening just enough in anger for Jesse to know that the cock-ring was holding Asa back from that final edge and he knew it.

He’d enjoy making the stubborn man beg for release.

Speaking of which…

Jesse pulled himself away from Asa’s body - taking a moment to appreciate how his hole fluttered in emptiness, small trickles of him pre-cum gliding down the bruised skin as Asa’s hip chased his own - before walking to face his partner.

Asa’s hair was thick and soft under his palm as he grasped it, forcing the other up from his sprawl.

There’s that look - the cold -ire promise that the second the tables turn and Jesse’s the one in Asa’s place… Jesse better cancel his plans for the day after.

But for the moment all Jesse can do is grin down at the bloody, bruised face of his lover.

He taps Asa’s lips.

They remain stubbornly shut.

Asa glares up at him defiantly.

Jesse sneers down before grabbing his face in a crushing grip.

Open or I break your jaw.

There’s a 50/50 chance he might have to anyway.

Asa contemplates for a moment before casually opening his mouth - long tongue lolling out like it’d been his idea all along, and would Jesse just get on with it?

The glint in his obsidian eyes betrays his pleasure as Jesse works himself to orgasm, spilling his cum across Asa’s face.

No sooner had Jesse stopped the final movements of his hands when his pleasure-filled fog is broken by the sound of ropes snapping.

Asa is on him like a tiger before he’s even fully aware of it - shredding Jesse’s clothes and yanking his slacks down his long legs.

A bright tinkling sound signals the removal of the cock-ring as Asa tosses it across the room; and Jesse can’t help but smirk as he’s man-handled back to the bed.

Fair’s fair, after all, and Jesse’s never been one to deny his partner a chance at pay-back.

As he feels a pair of handcuffs snap roughly around his wrists Jesse knows he’s in for a long night.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

#jesse cromeans x asa emory #the collector x chromeskull #jesse cromeans #chromeskull #asa emory #the collector slasher #the collector 2009 #the collection 2012 #laid to rest #chromeskull: laid to rest 2 #jessica writes #Horror Movies #slasher fiction

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 5 years

Text

Sick Little Games: Twelve

Clint doesn’t talk for a long time. Your breathing is still ragged. You’re still coming back around. And, like before, you need time. Time to readjust. Time to get back to where you’d been before.

He knew, kind of, what this state felt like. Like you’d touched a live wire. Every sense heightened until you could practically echolocate. Thor raises an eyebrow, and Clint nods, “Hot bath, clean clothes, cuddles,” Clint murmured, “She’ll be okay.”

Thor frowned, but nodded, leaving Clint to take care of you and go find Bruce. Bruce would want to know about this. Thor, for his part, was honestly thrilled. “kill mode” wasn’t something that happened often. You hated it.

“Baby,” he said softly, leading you to the bathroom, “Come on. Let’s get you a bath, okay.”

“Lights,” you manage. Your voice is still a growl, but it’s not angry. Clint isn’t worried. “Kill mode” is dangerous, but only if you’re the one provoking it. He flips the lights down and kisses your head, “Better?” he asks

“Yeah,” you answer, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor.

Clint let you sit and fussed with the water and added nice things. Enough to smell good and hopefully soothe you a little. He had no idea what was under your sink. What blend did what thing? Nothing was labeled. All the potions looked the same. So he tried to stick to something that smelled like lavender. That was soothing, right?

“Alright, pretty girl,” he hums, “Let's get you in the water.” The gross boy parts of his brain are acutely aware that he’ll be seeing you naked, but he slaps the back of his hand quickly. Oogle later. Fix now. You were holding yourself very tightly in control, and you needed to relax, or it was going to take forever for you to come down. “Can you do it yourself, or do you need help?” he asked softly, helping you out of your shoes.

“Don’t go,” you growl.

“Okay,” he soothed, “Okay. I’m here. I’m staying. I just wanted to know if you were okay with me seeing you.”

You nod, “You’ve seen me already.”

“That’s true,” he says, smiling, helping you to your feet. His hands are careful as he helps you out of your clothes. His touch is gentle but clinical. Concerned with getting you naked but not for any nefarious purpose. That accomplished, he helps you into the bath and kisses your head, stripping off his shirt.

“Don’t go,” you repeat, your voice less growl.

“I’m not. I’m gonna come hold you,” he answers, taking off the rest of his clothes. You nod and your cheeks heat. “You can stare, I don’t mind,” he teases. leaning over to kiss your head, “But scoot up a little, baby.”

You do, and he tucks himself behind you, his legs alongside yours as he pulled you back against his chest. He smiles a little when you snuggle in. “That’s it, baby, just relax, okay? I’m here. You’re okay. Bucky’s still breathing. You didn’t do anything that can’t be undone. Just close your eyes and breathe.” Clint can feel some of the tension start to trickle away. The longer he holds you against him and grounds you to right now. Like usual, he doesn’t really know what to do. But he knows you, and he knows that you need someone. “Kiss me?” you murmur after a long time, looking up at him.

Clint smiles a little and cups your cheek, “Are you sure? You’re not gonna hex me, are you?”

“I just... I just wanna feel something else. All there is is a fog. Fog and the red haze.”

He doesn’t need any more encouragement. He’s been dying for more than chaste kisses. Aching to show you what it could feel like to be loved like you should be. So he does, he cups the back of your head tenderly and pulls you closer, kissing you slowly. He wants this to be enough. Enough to drown out the darker nature that Bucky had finally drawn to the surface. The things that you kept subdued with... well. Clint wasn’t sure what. But He was willing to bet it was a lot of self-denial. Denying your wants. Denying your needs. But he doesn’t want you to deny this. You deserved this. You deserved love. And Comfort. Clint tries. He tries to keep things soft, but you’re insistent. Silently demanding more. Wanting to take what he was more than willing to give. Clint ached and brought a hand up to fondle your breasts, gratified with you sigh against his lips. He pulls away though and tangles his hand in your hair, “Listen to me,” he says, voice raw, “Baby. I’ll do anything you want. But only if you want it. Really want it.”

“Clint,” you pant, “I want you, please.”

“Please?” he chuckles, “Oh. Baby girl, you must be desperate.”

You whimper, and Clint nips your lip softly, “None of that baby,” he scolds lovingly, “Shh.”He resituates you on his lap gently and pulls you into another kiss that makes you burn, “Are you gonna be good for me?” he asks.

“I don’t-” you start, and he smiles a little.

“Just relax,” he murmurs, slipping inside you gently, shivering at your soft little moan. “I’m gonna take care of my girl, we’re gonna take this slow, and you’re gonna come for me until you feel better.”

Clint smiles when you whimper again and rolls his hips up gently to make you gasp. “That’s it,” he murmured, “So pretty.” He reaches between you to stroke your clit and tuts softly, “So needy for me. Good.” He teases softly. Touching you and relishing the feel of your arching against him. Squirming on him. “I want you needy for me, baby,” he soothes, breathless, “Don’t be quiet. Let me hear from you.”

You roll your hips and hide your face in his neck, trembling. “I’m- Clint. I can’t.”

“Just let go, baby,” he says, touching you more insistently, “Let go for me, baby.” And you do. He keeps you coming, reveling the feel of your body against him. The walls of your sex around him and the sounds of your panting and soft cries.

He lets himself follow you and holds you to him, cuddling you gently, careful to bring you down. Keep you from being reminded of your time with Bucky. You’re crying now that your head is clearing, and Clint pulled you closer. “Shh,” he soothed, “You’re okay. I’m here. I’m here.”

You snuggle close, snuffling, and he smiles, “Let's get you dried off, okay?” he coaxed. He shifts you over gently and gets out, wrapping a towel around his waist and holding out another to you. You go to him feeling exposed. Exposed but glad that Clint is here to hold on to.

“You did so good for me,” he praises, kissing your nose.

“You’re not mad?” you ask.

“No, sweetheart,” he soothes, “I’m not gonna be mad at you for wanting to have sex with me... I thought I was gonna go blind too for a minute... And I’m disappointed in my imagination. You feel better than I thought.”

It takes a second, but you giggle, and he hugs you a little tighter. He Dries your skin lovingly and carries you to your bed, tucking you in carefully. “I’m naked,” you protest sleepily.

“You are,” he agrees, tucking blankets around you and nuzzling your neck, tickling you. “I’m glad about that,” he teases, “I like having you all warm and naked. Smelling like all your fancy bath stuff.” He kisses your hair and lets you snuggle into his arms. “That’s good, Cupcake,” he says, “giving me everything I ever wanted right now, you know that?”

You murmur wordlessly for a second and kiss his chest, “I love you.”

He chuckles and strokes your hair, “I love you, too.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he scolds, “You’re okay. Trust me, baby. Just rest now, okay?”

He looks down when you don’t answer, and you’re asleep. Fast asleep nuzzled into his chest. It makes him happy in a way he can’t quite describe. He’d glad you’re here. That you feel safe enough to sleep. That you managed to do some damage to Bucky. That was something he was going to treasure well into his old age, honestly. Your snarl and the insistence that you weren’t gonna be his plaything again. It was perfection. Kill mode and the fall out notwithstanding, it was terrific. And he was proud. He doesn’t want to leave. He really doesn’t.

But there’s a knock on the door, and he can hear Steve and Natasha outside. He’s reluctant, but he rustles around until he finds a pair of pants and goes to the door. “What?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

“What happened between Y/N and Bucky, Clint?” Steve asked levelly, “We need to know.”

Clint glances anxiously back towards the bed and steps into the hall, shutting the door, “Look,” he says, “She’s really reluctant to talk about it.”

“But he did something?” Natasha pressed.

“Several somethings,” Clint said, scowling.

Steve nodded, “I need-”

“No,” Clint said steadily, “You’re gonna let her sleep. Let her come down all the way.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed, but he nodded, “When she wakes up,”

“Again, no,” Clint said, “I’m not gonna let you order her to tell you about all this. She tried to leave to avoid exactly this.”

Natasha nodded, “Was she trying to protect him?”

“Herself,” Clint said after a moment.

The spy nodded, “She’s okay?”

“As okay as she can be after she almost killed someone.” Clint allowed.

“Would she have killed him?” Steve asked.

“If she didn’t, I would have.” Clint said, and left them both standing in the hall to go back to you.

Tags:

@lancsnerd, @thorfanficwriter @blameitonthecauseway @etherealwaifgoddess, @stevieang, @beautybyfire, @sunmoonandbucky @mrsfox79, @bbmommy0902, @mendes-fan, @iheartsebastianstan, @wtfcas @pinknerdpanda, @process-pending, @ladifreakingda, @leasly, @coldbookworm, @hv-chw3, @past-perfect-future-tense, @starkrobb @beardburnsupersoldiers, @petlaufeyson, @queenoftheunderdark, @potatoheadthewise, @thehyperactiveteen, @thefridgeismybestie, @boyett514, @an-awkward-human-1, @sunshine-and-riverwater

#Clint x reader #smut #Bucky x reader #angst #trauma #Steve rogers #natasha romanoff #thor #Bucky Barnes #clint barton

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