#its a role he wears with pride

[nano30cm]

two east coast girls and their weird white boys

[sour-snak3]

Ghost x male reader

A/N: I read too many @thegnomelord stuff and I just wanted to make my own thing. Go read their stuff, it's honestly so good and their fics/small blurbs are definitely must reads.

CW/: meanish reader, werewolf reader, knotting, breeding kink, domtop reader, subbot simon, biting, marking, mating press, ruts, monster fucking, nonhuman genitalia, scent kink, shameless smut, swearing, english is not my first language, first fic, mistakes probably

Being a werewolf comes with it's perks. Having enhanced speed, enhanced strength, a fast metabolism, enhanced hearing, ect. However, it also comes with it's downsides. One of them being a rut. They are annoying and harder to deal with without a mate.

Which leads you to now, you rutting against your mattress with your lieutenants shirt inside your mouth. Huffs and groans spill from your mouth as you desperately seek for any kind of release. So deep into your pleasure, you fail to hear your room door open, your lieutenant standing within the frame.

"Oi, what the fock are you doin'?"

You snap my head over to the door and all your movements come to a halt. Neither of you move, no sounds coming from the both of you besides your panting. Simon stares for a moment before swiftly closing and locking the door.

"You like getting off on your superior, huh?" Your member twitched but you remained looking at him. He walks over to your bed and pushes you on your back. You try to get up but he crawls on top of you. "Stay down mutt. I'll give you some assistance if you're good."

Deciding to humor him, you let him continue. He pushes up his mask just enough that you can see from his chin to his nose. He brings his face down to your neck and begins to suck rather roughly. He nips and bites and after awhile, you've had enough.

Growling, you turn him over and you get on top of him, quickly reversing the roles. The heat bubbling inside almost becomes too much for you, but you hold it in for awhile longer, not wanting to harm Simon (at least not too badly).

You shove three fingers in Simon's mouth, grinning as he chokes on your thick fingers. You let your fingers be coated in a thick layer of saliva before taking them out from his mouth. Getting impatient, you yank all of his bottom wear off before turning him on his stomach.

He squirms as he feels your thick fingers prod at his puckered hole. A gasp sprouts from his lips as you shove your fingers in those warm, velvety walls. He begins to tremble when your fingers move in and out. He knows it's only your fingers but he can't help but feel so full.

After deeming him ready enough, you pull out your fingers and he whines. He should find it scary how easy it was for you to reverse the roles but he can't help but get more and more turned on. He was so lost in his own mind that he didn't realize you were moving until he felt your knotted cock poke at his hole.

He practically screams when you push inside. The stretch your inhuman cock makes inside his hole drives him crazy. The burn is so powerful and he can't help but enjoy it. His bottom half moves on its own as it grinds and pleads for you and your giant cock-

He yelps and you change his position to a maiting press. You laugh as you stare at his already fucked out expression. "Aw, does the poor puppy want some more?" you taunt. 'I do', he wants to say, but his pride is ever to big to give in. He gasps as you suddenly fuck into him. "Answer me, mutt."

"Yes. Please." he begs. He feels humiliated, but he doesn't care anymore. He needs you. You quickly responded to his answer and fucked into him as he sobbed. Gasps and groans fill every corner of the room as you pound into his pretty pink hole.

Simon feels heat bubbling in his lower abdomen, signaling that he's close. You know this, you can smell his sickly sweet scent fill the air. It seems he did some research on your species if the way he bares his neck to you means anything. You wanted to wait on marking him but who are you to judge if he wants you to do it now?

Your breath pans on his neck before you bite down, hard. The wolf inside you feels content as you finally mark him. As you finally make him yours. The bite stimulates him so much that he cums. It shoots all over his and yours chest, only making a bit of a mess. You release your lips from his neck but you don't stop. After all, you haven't finished yet.

You continue pounding him as you feel the heat bubbling more and more. Eventually, you snap. You pound into him one final time and your knot pushes itself inside of him. He screams as your knot goes inside and as your cum fills him to the brim. You both stay there panting before you break the silence.

"So, round two?"

"Oh fock off! Round two my ass..."

[itsswritten]

when the sea calls for three | intro

Paring: Azriel x Reader x Eris

Word Count: 1.5K

Summary: In the aftermath of war, peace reigns over the realms of Prythian, but the delicate balance hangs in the hands of two unlikely mediators—You and Lucien. As the newly appointed Emissaries of Peace, your duty is clear: maintain alliances, foster understanding between courts, and navigate the intricate webs of fae politics.

But when fate deals an unexpected twist, revealing that you possess not one, but two mates, the tranquillity you've worked so hard to uphold is suddenly threatened. Caught between two males who refuse to share, you find yourself thrust into a precarious position, torn between duty and desire.

What will you do and who will you choose?

I need you.

Those three words were all it took.

༄ 

In the soft glow of the morning light filtering through the room, flickering reflections of pinks and purples across the walls. Dawn Court had always been radiant, the sky, cobalt and rose. A sunrise all day long. You were proud to call it your home. 

You stood before the ornate mirror, fingers delicately adjusting the intricate buttons of your tunic. 

The decision to choose neutral clothing had been yours, a deliberate choice born from the realisation of what your new role weighed. You were to be a mediator, a peacekeeper, it only seemed fitting to don a uniform that symbolised your neutrality and dedication to maintaining balance among the realms.

The fabric shimmered with a subtle elegance, adorned with delicate motifs that whispered of the courts you now served. The tapestry of symbolism spoke something that words could not, of a new beginning, a new chapter– a time of peace.

The design along the back of your tunic, three majestic mountains rose proudly, their peaks reaching towards the heavens. Behind them, the sun emerged, casting its golden rays that spread warmth and light– a nod to your home.

In the left above, a fully fleshed sun beamed down upon the mountains, radiating its brilliance and vitality. To the right, three stars and a crescent moon were sewn with meticulous care, representing the rest of the solar courts and their celestial splendour.

On your left sleeve, leaves were hand stitched along your cuff,  bronze thread danced in a graceful swirl, climbing upwards towards your elbow, mirroring the silver icy shards that adorned the right sleeve. Autumn and Winter in perfect harmony. 

Around your collar, a delicate pattern of vines and roses intertwined, symbolising the beauty and vitality of the Spring Court's bloom. And along the trimmings of the tunic's bottom, waves swirled in a mesmerising dance, evoking the Summer Court's boundless energy and fluidity.

Your tunic jacket cascaded gracefully, halting just at your hips, while beneath it, a long, flowing cream pleated skirt billowed elegantly to the floor. With your hair initially draping freely, you gently pulled it forward, ensuring the intricate details adorning the back of your tunic were given their rightful moment to shine.

As you smoothed the fabric, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in the role you had been given. Playing a bridge between courts, and worlds. A mediator between the people. 

Politics had never really been something you relished in, but you were good with people, and good with your words. Qualities that your friend desperately convinced you, were integral to this role.

A soft knock on the door interrupted your reverie, and you turned to see Lucien, your friend, standing in the doorway. His mechanical eye wiring at the sight of you. He was wearing a similar tunic, one that was longer on his body but mirrored the designs of your own.

It was Lucien who had told you he needed you. 

I need you.

He had written to you one evening. His correspondences were usually lighthearted and filled with friendly banter, but this weighed heavily in a way that was so unlike him.

“I could really use your help.” Lucien had breathed, when you came to visit after his letter.

I need you. I need my friend. I need someone to lean on. I need someone to laugh with. It’s been too long. I miss you. 

Was what you heard. His message had been simple yet poignant, a plea for assistance and companionship.

You had always had a way with words and sounds. Understanding the gaps in between the breaths, the underlying emotions and intentions woven into each syllable. Most didn't realise what could be revealed in their words. How the octaves and melodic tones of their tongues sung of unspoken truths.

Lucien and you had shared a friendship that spanned many years, reaching back to your earliest memories of childhood. As children and teens, you had been inseparable, playmates in a time that now felt like a distant memory. However, when borders grew stricter and tensions mounted, those days were abruptly halted.

It wasn't until the dark days of Amarantha's reign that fate brought you back together, through the intervention of Nuan, a mutual friend. She was a skilled Alchemist of your court, who had aided Lucein in his healing, crafting his beautiful golden eye. And because he was no longer a part of Autumn, you were able to reconnect and your friendship flourished, even if it was predominantly through ink and parchment.

"Ready to face them?" he asked with a tight smile, his voice carrying a note of anticipation.

I’m nervous. Is what you heard under his words.

You returned his smile with a nod, a playful glint dancing in your eyes. “Of course, I was born ready Lucie” you replied, effortlessly flicking his nickname with a casual ease. 

Despite having a smart mouth now, Lucien was a name you often got tongue-tied in your younger years. Lucie had been a much easier sound to make, and you didn’t hesitate to use the endearing name when wanting to tease.

Lucien rolled his eyes, but your casual demeanour softened the nerves that had laced his previous words. That had been your intention.

Just one example of how your intuition always left you saying the right thing. Of course there were times this didn’t happen, but those occasions were extremely rare.

“We should decide which courts reside under our care before the meeting” Lucien began, striding in front of the mirror to adjust his own tunic. “And I have to say you’ve made more progress with Tamlin these past two months than I have in the past year," Lucien breathed, a hint of admiration in his voice while he smiled at you through the mirror.

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of your lips. "What, like it was hard?"

Tamlin's stubbornness had been a challenge, but your natural charisma and persuasion had proven effective in bridging the gap between his court and the others. His residents had at least started returning home, and thanks to your work, there was actually something for them to return to.

You huffed, before turning your friend around, pulling at his collar to adjust. Before tidying up his long auburn hair. 

"I can’t do both though Lucien. I'm not dealing with your brothers and Tamlin. That's too much, even for me” You remarked.

Lucien’s relationship with his brothers remained strained, the scars of their shared trauma running deep. Despite Beron’s demise, Eris was now Autumn’s High Lord. The brothers wounds were not so easily healed, and the weight of their history continued to cast a shadow over their interactions.

“Plus I do believe some forced proximity may do you and Tamlin some good” you pointed a look at him, referencing their damaged friendship.

Lucien bit the inside of his cheek, his eyes narrowing at you. He couldn’t help but envy how effortlessly you seemed to navigate the complexities of every situation, every conversation. Always knowing the right words to say, and the right actions to take. Qualities that had undoubtedly drawn him to seek your assistance in the first place. 

Qualities he forgot he would also be susceptible to.

"I'll look after Autumn and your hotheaded brothers. You deal with the depressed blondie," you suggested, a mischievous glint dancing in your eyes.

"Fine," Lucien conceded, begrudgingly acknowledging the wisdom in your words.

“I want Dawn, it’s my home and Thesan would be heartbroken if I wasn’t his courtier,” you asserted confidently.

"Then I'll have Day," Lucien negotiated, a hint of determination in his tone.

As the conversation turned to the remaining courts, you paused, considering the options carefully. The Night Court held a particular significance for Lucien, given his mate's presence there, but you were keenly aware of the tension that still lingered between them.

"I can take Night if that helps. I've already been the one updating their Spymaster recently anyway," you offered, your voice steady as you finally finished straightening up Lucien. Pulling your hands swiftly behind your back.

He mirrored your pose "Then I will manage Winter," Lucien conceded, a sense of resignation colouring his words. He wasn’t very fond of the cold, but neither were you. 

But he was happy to take this one for you, as you had taken Autumn and Night for him.

"Summer is mine. You can have the humans, your Band of Rejects or whatever they're called," you remarked playfully.

"Exiles," Lucien corrected with a humorous purr, a brief flicker of amusement softening his eyes.

“Apologies…band of exile…-d rejects” you humoured, before you felt him nudge you with his shoulder.

Your soft laughs filled the room before you tilted your head to look at your dearest friend “Look at you now. Exiled no more. Mr. Emissary of Peace” 

Lucien smiled proudly at the title, he had come a long way. This new chapter for Phrytian was daunting, but he was grateful to have you by his side “You ready?”

With a nod you grinned wide “Let’s go peacekeep the fuck out of them Lucie!” 

Next Part >>

a/n: Eeeekkkk so here's a little intro to set the tone and roles! Just a little disclaimer, there will be a few things in this series that haven't happened in the books, but it works for the plot. Only small things, so just go with it please! Excited to share this story with you all <3 - Lottie x

[boywthetattoo]

PUNKFLOWER headcannons because it's pride month and i love them.

Hobie handsews designs into shirts and beanies for Miles and gifts them to him, and is always pleased to see Miles wear it the next day. Hobie always somehow sews in his own spider symbol or an H.B on it.

Miles gets his first piercings from Hobie after he mentions how much he likes all of Hobie's piercings.

Hobie writes songs about Miles, but keeps them in a very well hidden journel that nobody but him knows where its at.

Miles is very insecure about his role as earth's 1610s spider-man and has lots of incidents of pushing himself to hard, Hobie likes to just hold him or praise him to help with Miles' insecurities.

Hobie hates most music that isn't Punk-Rock, but when Miles sends him a playlist he made for him combined with all of the music styles that he likes, Hobie does not dare change his music to anything else. ever.

[teeny-tiny-revenge]

Came across this in a fic again and I have to vent for a moment here: Ed's hair isn't unclean or not taken care of. Ever. Even at his lowest, in the first two episodes of season two, his hair is light and blows with the wind, it's got perfect waves, there is zero grime in it. Impossible Birds Ed hair has clearly been fairly recently washed, combed out and conditioned. Ed canonically loves soap, and you don't get that hair without owning a comb or brush and frequently working oil into it. He's at sea! The air is salty! It'll dry out your hair, but Ed's hair doesn't ever look dried out. The day he decides to commit suicide he puts his hair up into a lovely bun, with whispy stands framing his face. I have no idea what some people are watching, because Ed taking meticulous care (and most likely also putting pride and love) into his hair is clear, on-screen canon.

Like, if you want to write about how he was neglecting himself in his depression Kraken era? There's plenty there for you on screen as well! He sobs all night, probably sleeps on the floor if he sleeps at all. He doesn't wear his knee brace. He drinks and does drugs (and admits to that being poison to Frenchie!). He's pushing everyone away, he's pushing himself hard into a role that made him passively suicidal even before the breakup depression. He doesn't watch his back during raids At All. There's so much self harm there to address. If you want to, it would probably be plausible to add him not bothering to properly care for any wounds he might obtain during a raid. But he clearly doesn't neglect bathing and hair care. They're probably the only elements of self-care he actually still does during this dark time!

Even rock bottom Ed doesn't neglect his hair. And that says things about him! It's also something I'd love to see actually addressed in fic (will probably write it myself one of these days...): Taking good care of his hair, putting on jewelry, doing his makeup, these are things that seem to bring Ed joy or relief in his darkest moments. Where's my fic about these quiet moments of self-care being a straw he clutches to when everything else is terrible?

I love a good bathing together/doing each other's hair fic. It's intimate and loving! And Stede and Ed are prime material to write a mutual caretaking and bonding over it couple! Ed canonically loves soap and taking care of his hair! And Stede brought an entire fucking bathtub on a ship, the wonderful madman. S1 Stede's hair is always carefully curled, and we know that's not its natural state (it's wavy but not in this manner) from seeing him in S2, away from his certainly plentiful bath and grooming equipment. Stede probably has an hour of daily hair routine! We know he has nice smelling, probably expensive soaps. Where's the fic where they share in this?

There's so much potential! They can show each other their favourite care products! Sometimes they'll work on each other and sometimes not at all! Ed's rich hair oils will make Stede's hair all sticky and weird! Ed will think it's hilarious and adorable, he'll try to ruffle his hair and make it stick up worse and Stede will pout! 🥺 He'll look like this, just with weird spiky hair! One ill-advised day they try putting Stede's curlers in Ed's hair and then they almost can't get them back out because Ed's hair is so long and has lots of natural wave and it'll cling to the curlers and it's awful (they laugh about it afterwards, once Ed has very carefully brushed his hair out again and it no longer pulls at his scalp).

Makeup was a thing done by men and women at the time, especially for aristocrats (as seen in Episode 5), so Stede will know his way around hoity toity makeup, meaning rouges and whites (contained lots of lead, yuck!). Meanwhile Ed does pirate costume makeup for Blackbeard endeavours, that's a whole different thing. And both of these are makeups they don't actually enjoy doing (Stede avoids heavy makeup for the party, and Ed's Kraken makeup is part of his whole Everything Is Awful And I'm Making Myself Feel That look). But we see Ed do nice makeup that seems to be him! On his supposed to be final day on Earth, he cleans away all the Kraken coal, he cleans up his cabin, he gets rid of drugs, booze, Izzy (everything that was harming him), he does up his hair really nice and in a style that's very much Not Blackbeard, and he puts on a gorgeous bit of eyeliner that really brings out his eyes. And now that they're safe and happy together, when Ed decides he wants to look pretty today, not only can Stede lose his marbles over the look, Ed can also show him how to make his own eyes pop like that. They can stand in front of their mirror together, giggling and trying not to poke anyone in the eye.

Like. This is a fancy bathroom items for fancy bathroom items couple. They will bond over their love of bubble baths and nice smelling soaps and soft oils for hair and skin! They will learn each other's routines and how to do them just right for them. Let Stede learn that Ed loves his baths scalding hot (Stede has to wait a while for it to cool before he joins him in the tub because he'll get all pink and lightheaded). Let Ed learn how to put in Stede's curlers for him if Stede wants his hair to look extra fluffy the next day. Let Ed learn to massage Stede's back and Stede learn to massage Ed's knee. There's so much potential for loving caretaking with this ship. The trope doesn't at all require Ed to not know or not want to take care of his hair and hygiene. Fuck's sake.

[gothgleek]

Agnus Tully- NSFW Alphabet

I do not own the Holdovers nor the images used in this post. All thoughts are my own. The borders are from @saradika-graphics

TW: sexual acts, kinks, parental issues, mention of mental hospitals, porn.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated but not required 🌸🌼🌸

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

Really cuddly and clingy but quiet. He’ll pepper you with kisses and praise, but he’s the one who needs more attention afterwards.

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

We all know Agnus is a breast man. You will need to snap your fingers a few times before his eyes can tear away from looking down your shirt. Pervert.

He also LOVES biting them and marking you up.

His favorite part of himself is his legs. He takes a lot of pride of being tall and take any opportunity he can to show them off. Hence the James Bond trunks.

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

He has a paralyzing fear of parenthood but he LOVES cumming inside you unprotected. Especially if he can watch it drip out of you before he eats you out. He wouldn’t mind painting your tits with his cum either. He’ll take a pic of you like that too and ruin it later.

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

He steals your underwear and uses it to jerk off. He’s also into roleplay but he hasn’t found the right time to bring it up.

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

His only previous experience comes from porno mags. Maybe he had a partner or two in college, but I doubt it got anywhere emotionally. Regardless, you’re his first MAJOR relationship either as FWB or serious partners.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Mating press. Pretzel dip. The butterfly. As long as he can stare into your eyes and have your legs in his hands, he will be a happy man. Also you against the wall, him in his knees so he can give you oral and try to make your legs shake.

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

Half his dirty talk is him being sarcastic shit. Other times he has to keep himself from laughing at your cum drunk expressions because he’s proud he did that to you.

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

This is the 70s so he’s trying to grow chest hair and a bush. However, he’s very particular and he trims himself.

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

Once he’s in love, he will make sure you know. However, he’s still Agnus so he might be a little shit about it. He’ll whisper sweet nothings while pounding you or while he teases you. Nonetheless, he’s his most romantic during aftercare.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

As much as he tries to deny it, he loves jacking off. The dorms make it hard for him to do it as much as he wants but as soon as he’s whipping it out. He’s quick too, to the point he was worried he wouldn’t be able to control himself when he fucks you. Thankfully that’s not an issue.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Taking pics of you as we’ve established. Role-play as well. Due to his many boarding schools, he’s developed an appreciation for uniforms. He’s also warming up to having a minor religious kink. The two of you definitely role played as James Bond and a damsel before though.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s got an exhibitionist kink in him so the woods and library are the most fun for him. One time the two of you fucked at an open air concert. But he loves fucking in his room so the two of you can nap and cuddle after.

He hates the beach though. He took you on a family vacation once and sand got everywhere when the two of you fucked.

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

Thank god for the sexual revolution and its hatred for bras. Low cut tops and kindness. That’s what attracts him to you. Also when you wear a low cut top and beat him at pinball, that’s when he is all over you.

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

Restraining him (ropes, handcuffs, etc.) reminds him of his father so that’s a no-go. Maybe he’ll warm up to the idea of restraining you but not for a long time. Nurse roleplay he’s on the fence about because he could jack off to the idea or a pic of a sexy nurse but he could not get turned on irl for similar reasons. Also not fond of daddy kinks but would be open to a mommy kink. He’s not gonna talk to a therapist about it.

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

He loves eating you out. And then you introduce him to rimming and he is excited about tasting more of you. He doesn’t even need to touch himself, he will rut against the bed while eating you out. He loves your blowjobs as well but he keeps his hands to himself, pulling his sheets and clawing the walls.

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

He actually prefers slow and sensual (though no less kinky). Why shouldn’t he take his time with you? Even if it’s a quickie his mouth is everywhere on you, drawing it out as much as possible.

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

While he loves taking his time, he has an appreciation for quickies as well given the lack of privacy he’s always had. If you fucked before dating, it would’ve been mostly quickies but now that you’re together, it’s longer. He’s more willing to have a quickie when it’s a stressful time for the both of you (family trouble, finals week, traffic jam, etc.).

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

The great part about the 70s is the sexual revolution. He would be down to experiment with almost anything. Repression is known for creating super kinky people after all. Both of you keep notes about each place and position you’ve fucked, well well as a running list of what kinks you would try again.

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

When you first get together, he doesn’t last very long but after a quick break, he’s ready to go again.

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

Thanks to the sexual revolution (and his wallet), the two of you have more than enough toys. Unfortunately Google tells me sex toys were scary looking during this time so the once the excitement of sex toy shopping wears off, you really only stick to the vibrators. Maybe once nipple clamps are more popular, he’ll have you wear them as well. Your favorite toy to share is the famous hitachi massager.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He loves teasing you soooo much. He’s such an asshole about it too, teasing you anywhere from a car ride to the library to bed. He enjoys someone he can banter with too so he will take anything you’ve said to him and throw it back in your face later. Absolute menace.

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

He’s chatty at first (he LOVES dirty talk) but when he really gets into it, he will just be panting, all words lost. When he finishes, it’ll be a low moan in your ear.

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

He’s a biter and will mark the hell out of you. Especially your thighs and breasts and ass. Also he had, at one point, made a sex playlist but stopped using it when he couldn’t hear you over the music.

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

Long but not girthy. Curved. Cut. Grower, not a shower. A nice little happy trail as well.

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

Pretty high. The poor guy is so touch starved, he can’t keep his hands off you. Even if he’s not horny, he acts like it and is always touching you, just so he can tease you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He needs to hold onto you before he falls asleep. He’s secretly romantic and likes to match your breathing and circle his thumb in your skin. When it’s a quickie though? He turns into the energizer bunny and won’t burn out until hours later.

[battlekidx2]

Hazbin Hotel Episodes 5 and 6 Thoughts

Wow. These two episodes of Hazbin Hotel were easily the best out of the series so far. They’re still working at a breakneck pace, but these episodes were so much more focused than the first 4 that it worked significantly better. The A and B plots of both these episodes were cleanly tied together so that no one part felt insignificant.

One of the biggest problems with the first four episodes was the fact that the split focus pulled the episode in different directions and made it so that reveals didn’t get the build up they needed to really feel impactful and pushed the Hazbin Hotel to the background so it felt insignificant in its own show. 

The second biggest problem in those episodes was that Charlie’s wish for her people, for redemption, and attempt to get into heaven to avoid extermination felt like it wasn’t the driving force it should have been. 

But these two episodes really fix that and expand on the characters really well. I’m just going to go through what I loved the most.

Alastor

I absolutely loved what we got from Alastor in episode 5. He really is the highlight of the show for me. There’s just so many layers to his character that the show isn’t rushing to peel back like it is with everyone else and it makes his character so intriguing.

I liked the fact that this episode hints that he truly does care about the hotel and wants it to succeed. It’s not only entertainment like he initially claimed. That moment where he sends Mimzy away was really telling. There isn’t even a hint of sinister subtext, sarcasm, or a joke in his voice or face when he tells her she can’t stay if she isn’t going to take redemption seriously.

The way his eyes twitch when she says he can’t seriously care about the hotel is such a great little detail.

I really like this point. The main theme of the show is redemption and showing that even someone like Alastor can care about the hotel is a direction I wanted the show to go in from the pilot, but something I wasn’t sure we would actually get. But I liked that it’s getting hinted at this early, especially since we now know there’s a season 2 and it can get fleshed out much more and can probably get to the point where he might grow into an actual mentor for Charlie instead of it being performative to spite Lucifer like it was in this episode.

(side note: I like that Charlie defends his actions against her father. She sees it as protecting the hotel, which we learn is the truth. He did do it for pride, but he also cares about the hotel and does want to protect it. I like to see that Charlie’s ability to see the best in people does pay off at least somewhat.)

That little hint of care to his actions with the hotel isn’t all we get to see of Alastor's layers. He is still the infamous Radio Demon after all, so we also get to see his pride at play.

It’s his pride being hurt by Lucifer that causes him to play up his role in Charlie’s life. It’s his pride being hurt that leads him to taking on the loan sharks alone both to remind everyone of his power and to show what else he brings to the hotel.

It’s also what causes him to go off on Husk. Husk is the only character willing to call Alastor out. He knows Alastor better than anyone else at the hotel because of their past and his ability to see through his facade. And he hurts Alastor's pride when he calls him out with the truth: That he's on a leash just like him.

The reveal that Alastor is also on someone’s leash was expected, but well executed.

This episode let Alastor’s mask slip a bit and we got to see more of his real emotions/feelings about things.

Alastor was the character I thought would have the most layers to them. Characters like Charlie, Angel Dust, and Vaggie wear what they feel a bit more openly than a character like Alastor (or at the very least their true feelings come out more frequently). There are motives and mysteries behind Alastor’s actions that aren’t clear with him like they are with everyone else and his demeanor, words, and actions can conflict with his true feelings and that’s what draws me to him so much. His usual (kinda) goofy and cavalier attitude, cold and ruthless demeanor that can come out at the flick of a switch, and infamous past make it so learning about Alastor's true intentions and introducing the idea of him changing and coming to care is very intriguing to me.

I just think that Alastor is the character that is working the best in the show right now because his plotline and development is not going at a breakneck pace. We’ve only gotten hints about why he was gone for seven years, who he sold his soul to, why he appeared to help with the hotel, etc. His character progression is also taking its time. This is the first real hint we get that he does genuinely care about the hotel in his own way and it’s 5 episodes in. This is the kind of pacing and development that the whole show would benefit from. 

This isn’t meant to be a shot at the show. I think it was put into a complicated situation because it was picked up initially for only 8 episodes (this is the type of show and large cast that needs at least twice as many) and was only renewed about halfway through the production of the first season, which I think explains why these episodes felt more coherent and fleshed out than the first four.

I really can’t wait to see where his character heads. He's still a walking question mark as of right now and every time we get a glimpse at his true intentions it's always fascinating because it's never clear cut where he stands.

Side note: I find it hilarious that Alastor created a rivalry between himself and Lucifer. The literal king of hell. Lucifer hurt Alastor’s pride and he immediately decided he would be as petty as possible towards him.

Charlie

I was always in the boat that Charlie was an interesting protagonist. The pilot set up a character that was very intriguing for the setting she was placed into. I didn’t think the three episodes necessarily handled her the best, but I think that was more a result of the rushed pacing and bloated plot. She’s handled significantly better from episode 4 on.

Episode 6 is where I think Charlie really came into her own as the protagonist of this series. The song where she stood up to heaven really sold me on her character. 

“If hell is forever then heaven must be a lie. If angels can do whatever and remain in the sky. The rules are shades gray when you don’t do as you say. And you make the wretched suffer just to kill them again.”

Up until this point Charlie felt a bit limited in her actions. It really amounted to trust exercises and the hotel residents acting out made up situations. She seemed naive and well meaning, but ill equipped to actually address the mental health issues her people had due to the fact her upbringing was so sheltered. There was the potential for more, but it wasn’t given the time I felt it deserved.

But this is where she really got to step up and call out the inequality and hypocrisy of heaven. This is where we got to see her backbone and the true extent of her care for her people. She won’t back down or accept the flimsy excuses they use to persecute the denizens of hell.

I also really liked her belief in Angel Dust. Yeah, he made some mistakes (at least from heaven’s point of view), but Charlie had complete faith in the fact that he would meet their requirements. It’s this characteristic of her’s that is intrinsic to bringing out the best in the residents of the hotel and before this point it was on the periphery (like with Angel Dust in episode 4) or implied. 

Episode 6 showed how important that characteristic is, especially to people who feel like they’re damned. (I like that Charlie is a good judge of character. It’s easy to take someone that’s privileged and naive and make them too trusting, but these two episodes show her belief in the best in the people at the hotel is founded.)

Another point I liked is that she was getting through to some of the angels. It’s a recurring gag that her presentations aren’t great. They’re written in crayon, flowery, and a little basic, but it’s the passion and critical thinking that she expresses in her presentations that shows that she can be a capable leader. 

She effectively poked holes in their argument that the sinners in hell deserve to be there and had their chance.

Her duet with Emily was really good. The way she brought back “Hell is Forever” to call the angels and exorcists out was the best (as you could probably tell from the fact that I quoted it). It also introduces a theme that the next generation will work to change things. Both Emily and Charlie want things to be different and clash with their parents who are both afraid that their child might end up like Lucifer. It’s a very clear parallel that sets up a lot of plot potential.

Charlie really was great in these episodes.

Angel Dust

I will admit I think aspects of Angel’s arc are rushed. Him standing up to Val is a big moment and I like the fact that it happened while Charlie is trying to show heaven that they are wrong about sinners, but I wish that we had gotten more time to build to Angel Dust being able to “stick it to the man” because of how powerful I think his arc is and the themes it deals with.

Episode 4 was the first time we really got to see beneath Angel’s mask and truly see the potential for change that Charlie does. We only really got hints that Angel wanted to change, but was scared to try in the first 3 episodes. We also know that he doesn’t feel safe even when he’s not around Valentino. 

Episode 4 is the turning point for him. When Val was abusing him he asked him not to hurt Charlie. His concern was solely for her in that moment despite the fact he was in the more tenuous position. He even forgives Charlie at the end because he knows her intentions are good. Plus his connection with Husk helped him find understanding so that he could come to feel like he could change. 

It was the real start of his growth and it was well done in my opinion. 

I just wish it had gotten a little more breathing room because while I do really like the plot points that occur in this episode I feel like they happened a bit too soon. (I know that it's been a few months in canon, but we didn't get to see that, so that slow progression doesn't have the impact it should)

I also liked that it called back to the pilot where she told the news that he was their patron and he ended up making them look bad because he was indulging in all his bad habits from before, but now it’s almost the opposite. Yeah, he drinks and does some drugs, but he shows his growth and proves Charlie’s point about sinners and it makes the angels argue among themselves.

Vaggie

The reveal that Vaggie was an ex-exorcist was something a lot of people made theories about. It was one that I wanted to be true because of what it would mean for Charlie and the dynamic of the hotel. I liked how it was revealed to Charlie.

This is another plot point that I think is rushed, but I think the execution is better than a lot of the other reveals that happened earlier in the series.

I feel like this reveal was a bit necessary for Vaggie’s character and the episode’s focus wasn’t split and I think that’s why I’m not as hard on it being rushed as I am on earlier plot points. Vaggie was the member of the hotel I thought suffered the most from the limited time/episode count.

The only focus she got was episode 3 and her arc in that episode was a bit clunky, which wasn’t helped by the fact that the other half of the episode with the overlords of hell was more interesting because it set up what looks like it will be a long term conflict and revealed a major plot point. 

The rest of the hotel residents got slower paced, less cluttered focus. Alastor has been subject to quite a few plot lines and is a slow burn mystery with a lot of potential for growth. Angel Dust is the hotel’s first patron and the character positioned to be the poster boy for redemption, so of course his development is given the spotlight. Husk has a unique dynamic with everyone (Alastor and Angel in particular) and is a foil to Angel Dust which makes him a central figure/mentor in Angel getting himself together. Etc.

I think this creates a lot of potential for her character leading into the last two episodes and gives her depth that I really want to see explored. I don’t really know what to say about the reveal beyond the fact that I’m really excited to see how this shakes Charlie and the hotel. How will this effect the other residents? Will Vaggie take a stand against the angels when they come for the hotel? Will we see her grief/conflict over her past actions now that they’ve been revealed?

There’s so many directions they can take this that I can’t wait for episode 7.

One smaller note is that I wish that the threat of Adam telling Charlie about Vaggie's secret had played more of a part in the episode and Vaggie actually had to choose between standing beside her girlfriend or stopping her. She just excuses herself to the restroom instead of making that choice and it felt like a missed opportunity.

Lucifer

Lucifer is a very interesting character in the limited screen time he’s had so far. The direction they took him is different from most of the other dads in Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss. The fact that he does care and was the person that was the original motivation for Charlie to open the Hazbin Hotel is a refreshing direction to take after all the bad dads this series has. 

He’s so afraid that Charlie will end up like him. That she’s putting her faith in the wrong people. That hell’s denizens aren’t capable of redemption. All these fears stem from his own crushed dreams from his fall at the hands of heaven. 

It’s a nice change of pace.

I also love how he’s just as petty as Alastor, taking any shot he can at the Radio Demon to one up him when it comes to their respective relationships to Charlie.

Extra Thoughts

Sir Pentious having a crush on Cherry Bomb, but being absolutely horrible at acting on it was really funny. Sir Pentious is such a fun character.

I love that the theory that Alastor made a deal with Lilith seems more and more plausible with every episode. It certainly would explain the fact that they were both gone for seven years and how Alastor was such a dominant force in hell from the start. I want Alastor’s backstory asap.

I like that Alastor’s overwhelming power among sinners is re-established here. He’s someone that you don’t mess with. And I like that the way that people don’t react to him as much as before is because of his 7 year absence. I did think it was strange that he’s so infamous for brutally toppling powerful overlords, but people don’t go running like you’d expect in the first few episodes.

Alastor and Husk have such a complicated dynamic. I really want to learn more about their history. Alastor has no problems tearing overlords that come across him apart, but Husk ended up with a deal to keep his power. Why is that? And while Alastor does own his soul Husk will call him out on things and can read him so much better than anyone else. Alastor lets these slide until he points out that Alastor is also on a leash like him. And Alastor had to have told Husk that he sold his soul because how else would Husk know that. All these things make for one of the most interesting and complicated dynamics of the show.

I do want to make clear that I think Alastor is a character of duality and contradiction. There's a hint that he does care about the hotel and the possibility of him growing to care for the residents, but he's still the sadistic and cruel Radio Demon. There's just a glimpse of change there now.

I really like the parallels between Emily and Charlie. I really like the idea that this seems to set up that the next generation is going to step up and take a stand against the mistakes of the previous generation. This one episode set the groundwork for a really interesting arc for Emily and her potential dynamic with Charlie.

I love Angel Dust. That's it. I just wanted to say that.

[tmblrcolouredpaper]

Period and Nightmare

Minho/ Reader

domestic fluff; acts of service; literal sleeping together; crying; kisses and cuddles; period pain; comfort

wc: 1877

'I'm tired', you whispered into Minho's hoodie. The TV screen flickered in various colours, presenting the current movie you were watching, while being all curled up together on the sofa. It was blurry though, because sleep was announcing itself by yawns and with its result of teary eyes. You were cuddling Minho's arm, chin resting on his shoulder and legs draped around his waist.

'Go to bed then', he huffed and gently pushed you away from him, freeing his arm. Your grip around his torso was stronger and you just shifted your position until you were seated on his lap, facing him frontal instead of sideways now.

'Carry me?', you asked and leaned forward to hug him. He sighed and you could register his eyes rolling around in annoyance without actually seeing them. His arms however mustn't have gotten the message of disapproval, because they immediately wrapped around you, welcoming your initiated physical closeness.

There was no verbal conplaint. When he actually got up, you were however so surprised about the fact that he would really carry you to bed that you almost fell if he wouldn't have held you so securely. He didn't show any sign of reaction, just walked towards the bedroom and put you down onto the edge of the mattress, placing a kiss on your forhead.

'Thank you', you mumbled under your breath.

Minho left, letting sounds echo through the bathroom and returned soon with one toothbrush in his mouth and one in in his hand. So, you lazily brushed your teeth and let Minho drag you to the bathroom to spit out the minty foam. A pair of fresh panties with an already applied pat was laying on the heater, as well as some other items of clothes. You noticed his shirt and a pair of socks.

'Wanna take another quick shower to warm up?', he asked and looked at you patiently. You were too tired and felt too weak to keep standing for much longer so you declined.

'Okay', he spoke and turned around to take the hair brush, to your surprise.

'Braiding it? So it won't annoy you at night?', he suggested casually as if it was totally clear what he was doing, as if this was the usual evening routine. It wasn't. Usually you let eachother alone and just got together in bed again. Minho needed his time alone to calm down after a long day and you enjoyed it as well, knowing someone is in the next room, while you can concentrate on processing your thoughts of the day, absently tidying up and getting ready for bed.

Today, however, you were clingy. Minho let you be. Your stomach was tight and despite not actually being in pain the comfort level wasn't high either and you could feel your body working hard. Being on your period was never easy, the fortunately only suble sensation in your stomach was omnipresent and absorbing all your energy, causing you to feel in need of some guaranteed safety. What else would make you feel safer than Minho being the reliable and supportive person he is?

Your hair was braided quickly, two strands of lose braids falling over your shoulders. Not too tight, so it won't hurt, but the hair was tamed, he explained. The pride in his tired voice was obvious and you were proud of him, thankful, so you took his hand and gave it a gentle kiss. That made him giggle and his eyes sparkled.

He cleared his throat and returned to his serious deminor, getting back into the role of your personal life assistant. This basically means, Minho seemed as stoic as possible, but was actually overprepared, oversupportive, overprotective and slightly nervous.

He tugged on your clothes, you were currently wearing and told you to switch into a new pyjama set. He helped you getting dressed, kneeling in front of you and let you hold onto his shoulders for balance when he put your fresh panties on. The fabric was warm against your lower stomach and back. With Minho's help you finished getting dressed comfortably and made your way to bed, finally. A few kisses, a few last words of the day and you were fast asleep.

The dream didn't start bad, but in classical fever dream manner the dream turned abstract and overwhelming right away. You were locked into a metal box of a room that was pushed deeper into the thick walls of a building where no phone would have connection to the outside world and of course, no one would hear your screams. You realized this quickly and typed a short panicked message to your friend and when you saw them hiding at the entrance, you got the chance to hand them your phone, so they could send the message where signal was more likely to be available. In the end you both got locked in and knocked out by getting electro shocked.

Fainting was your least favorite thing in dreams. Feeling the loss of consciousness and the pain of the cramping muscles caused by the electro shock in the intensity that could only be experienced so vividly in the rem phase was genuinely painful. Absurd that the brain had the capacity to put you into circumstances you'd never actually experienced, but using the current sensation of muscle cramps for the illusion of authenticity.

A few more scenes were shown to you, no cohesion, just scary examples of what could go horribly wrong in real life. You woke up with pain in your stomach and chest, immediately sitting up to distance yourself from sleep.

'What's wrong?', Minho asked panicked, but his tone remained gentle, maybe due to his own sleepiness.

You just shook your head, 'nothing', but he knew better, starting to rub your back to ground you.

'Wanna talk about it?', he asked, but again, you just shook your head. The echoing pain that could have either come purely from the dream or your uterus that was being lovingly dramatic, was overwhelming. You dropped down forwards, burying your face into Minhos stomach.

He was warm and the fabric of his shirt felt extra soft against your skin. His hands were still on you, massaging your scalp and making sure you felt his attention on you. With a quick shift you layed down again and pushed yourself into Minho's embrace. Him welcoming you with open arms was his default setting at night.

'Your heart beats like crazy', he remarked and his hand landed on your forhead.

'Are you feeling sick?', he questioned, a hint of panic in his voice.

'Of course I do', you whined and almost laughed at his oblivion. As well as he took care of you and learned more about how you experience your menstrual cycle with each month that he was with you, he wasn't able to get an understanding beyond the theory. He just woke up. You didn't expect him possibly acing an exam about your hormonal cycle and its effects on you. If it would be important to you, he would try to perfect his knowledge faster though.

'Let's get you a glass of water', he suggested and got out of bed.

'No', you panicked and ran after him, holding onto his arm, before he could step out of the room.

Baffled, he stopped and let go of the door handle. His hand found its way into your hair and he gently pattet your head.

'I'll be back in a second. Why don't you pick one of my hoodie in the meantime? You're freezing.'

His voice was soft and caring as if he was talking to an injured deer. And you felt like one. If he would leave you alone, you would just be killed by a wolf, you were sure.

'Please, don't leave me alone', he whispered, voice shaky, because you were really about to cry.

'Just 2 minutes', he explained and you tried hard not to start crying.

*

'Blue hoodie it is', you decided and went back to bed, hugging the blue fabric instead of wearing it.

The blanket lulled you into sleepy warmth that Minho's and your body radiated. Tears were still brimming in the corner of your eyes and finally rolled down and drowned into the pillow beneath your head. You didn't sob, you didn't whine, you just cried silently and too weak to control your mood in any sense.

Minho returned with a glass of water and sat down on his side of the mattress. He held the bavarage in one hand and gently caressed your head with the other, the whole time until your tears came to an end.

You felt calmer and sat up, his hoodie still trapped between your arms and you upper body. When Minho noticed, he let out a chuckle and gained your attention. He handed you the water, waited until you drank, took the glass again and placed it on the floor next to the bed. Then, he lifted the blanket and pushed himself underneath, sighing with the welcoming warmth on his skin.

'Are you planning on cuddling or wearing my hoodie?', he asked with a hint of amusement in his voice.

'Oh, ahm, wearing', you answered in surprise and sat up to pull the piece of clothing over hour head. You quickly adjusted it a bit and layed back down again.

Minho held the blanket open for you and tugged you in the second your body hit the mattress.

'Do you think you can sleep?', he mumbled and it was evident that he was about to fall asleep any second.

'I guess', you sighed, but weren't too sure.

'Come here', he mumbled even lower than before and welcomed you into his embrace, you squeezed right into his front.

'Can I hold you properly, under your shirt, or is it uncomfortable?', he asked, his hand resting on your shoulder, while you both were laying on your sides facing eachother.

'Is your hand warm or cold?', you questioned and felt first his fingertips and then also his smooth and warm palm on your cheek.

'Okay', you breathed out.

His mere touch directly on your skin felt wonderful. He stuffed his hand under the blanket and gently, in a slow motion lifted first the hoodie to rub up and down your clothed waist, only to then proceed to lift your shirt as well to finally let his hand rest on your bare body.

He gently massaged the side of your stomach with his thumb and you could literally melt into him.

'Please try to sleep', he almost whined, burying his face into the pillow.

'Sorry', you whispered, feeling guilt of being the reason he's awake wash over you.

'No, it's fine. I just want you to rest as well as possible', he declared and added, 'I can't stand it when you're in pain and uncomfortable'.

You leaned your forhead against his chest and laughed, his hand on your waist slightly urging you to get closer to him.

'You're so wonderful', you mumbled into his shirt and started caressing his back, not even one minute later hearing his soft snores.

His steady rhythm in combination with his warmth and his secure hold on you, made you eventually drift off to sleep as well.

[shuamorollss]

unfortunate unexpectations — l.hs x f!reader

In an everyday attempt to avoid the man you eternally loath. Of course, the universe isn't always by your side as you accidentally reach a dead end, with no other choice but to dance with him.

romcom, regency era, enemies2lovers, just cute bickering warnings— not proofread, first time writing this kind of trope pls bear with me. 2.6k wc + reblogs are greatly appreciated!

author's note— I'm back again with another piece ( I'll disappear for a few months after this)! I wrote this exactly on Hee's bday but I only decided to post it now since i didn't really feel satisfied with this when i finished this a few days ago :/ i still don't so I may delete this when I'm in the mood to make changes ^_^ BUT HERE IT IS!! Happy belated birthday to my hubby wubby @Heeseung 😅❤️❤️

perm tags— @jangwonie @jungwonize @luhvlyuna @w3bqrl @ineedaherosavemeenow @leaderwon

"Would you be so kind and get that for me?"

Oh how annoying. You thought, gently tricking your finger up to block your ears and releasing in an instant, wanting the bothering itchiness to fade. His arms stretched beside you reaching to the the man holding a tray with glasses of wine.

Oh how you knew he did it intentionally.

Heeseung's boldness to give you an order was extraordinary, baffling even. You were not in a higher position than him, and he wasn't much higher than you, though he was just there, and heeseung didn't want to play the "he was just there" role in your life. He always feels the need to spite you at any given time, similar to a cricket making noises while you attempt to sleep.

Though much to his dismay, you certainly do show his own place as just a nobody in your existence; to which he never seems to catch the hint of your unintrestment.

Or he might do, only walking in and out of your life in terms of spitting utter nonsense to your peace.

Honestly, it did work. It made you fume and it certainly made you want to do more than just give out the usual glare and other threatening expressions to the other.

You turn around with utter confidence, meeting the man's eyes unbothered. Your eyes observed his structure, his unfortunately dashing attire, and his pretentious face.

As you check out the details of his sleeves, your eyes darted to Heeseung's exact shift of expression, smirking.

It was certainly expected, yet so mind flaming. You'd rather just explode right then and there than to keep up with whatever he wants to pull to you.

"You know, if a lady looks at someone from head to toe for too long it must mean that they yearn for that someone." He lets out a prideful scoff, eyes mockingly going through you as he sips from the wine glass.

Disbelief in what you heard, you halted your eyes from any further notice. Proceeding to roll your eyes at the man who had unknowingly tinted your cheeks red.

"Don't be silly, I was looking at your outfit. Actually baffling but not surprising for you to wear something so… Eye-vomiting." you spit. Twirling against his view and proceeding to waltz away from his standing figure, not setting a single glance at the man behind you. A fuming smoke sets up your chest at the realization of what you had just done to that awful of a man.

You explore more of the manor by yourself, enthralled by every piece of art plastered on the clean walls. You found an inner piece at the volume of the hallway, no noble bands performing and people crowding the room as they tap their feets and hearts out, it is truly a wonder to feel.

"Lady Y/N!"

Of course, every pinch of euphoria has their cut to its end, as one of your acquaintances calls you out.

"Oh, Lady… Lily? Was it?" You asked softly and loudly, as the woman clicked her heels towards you.

The girl smiles, "Oh yes! Though please, just call me Li."

"Alright, Lady Li."

…

For moments to what felt like hours, chit-chatting with Lady Li as you both walk around the manor corridors. The both of you had now reached your very destination which was the party itself that you so desperately want to be separated with.

You timidly smile at the girl beside you, eyes widened agitatedly at the crowd. "Uhm, Lady Li," The other nodded, her eyes also seemed to be searching through the sea of nobles.

"Why did we decide to return to this room?"

Lily simpers her smile as her eyes turn fixated on one figure, "There he is!— Thank you so much Lady Y/N for keeping me company through the manor." She gives you thanks, walking away with delight eventually linking arms with a man who Lady Li might have been searching for. great.

Another woman infested with men's validation, how unfortunate.

Your eyebrows furrow as you stare at the couple in disbelief, letting out a brief sigh at the thought of almost every woman here might be just like that.

"Feeling all bitter now, are we Lady Y/N?", you trembled at the sensation of his teasing breath tickling your ear.

"What on— oh... it's you again."

"The one and only." Heeseung lets out a ridiculous triumphant smile, the smile that makes you feel itchy in all aspects of your body, it was extremely bothersome reaching to the point you would rip your hair out to the unspeakable rage you feel for the male.

"Don't make that face now, a real lady doesn't do that, well— that is, if you are even a lady." He chuckled, always digging deeper into your little actions in an attempt to reach you to the edge. How delightful.

"Your words remind me so much of my younger brother's pitiful counters." You face the opposite once more, your heartbeat slowing down at each step you take far from Heeseung, hoping to have a similar instance from earlier to happen once more.

Unfortunately, the things one desires don't really happen twice. As you hear the footsteps of the man through the crowded noise, the only shattered expectation you wish did not.

"Oh so I remind you of your family now? How thoughtful." His smirk added to his audacious response that could be sensed at such a distance you didn't even know was possible without even taking another look.

"It means you're just as annoying as my brother, don't take it as a compliment."

"I presume older sisters still love their annoying brothers nevertheless, so that must mean you secretly feel that way for me too if I remind you so much of your annoying brother."

"Oh how great, you can go stay in your own personal pride zone Mr. Lee, though that zone, will tell you to cut it out very soon."

"I doubt that, I think I can sense what's true and not true."

"Being ever so ethical now, aren't you?"

"You know what they say… I am that of a gentleman."

"Well so ethical now anymore, 'cause, you see… you claim to be a gentleman which in fact is ridiculously wrong, no, you're not a gentleman."

"Okay lady, I figured that was a mouthful to sneer."

Your eyes widened, subconsciously sighing aggravatingly, utterly lost of the others' words. "Please don't follow me."

"I'm not following you."

"You are? Don't make me feel stupid."

"I don't think I'm doing that."

You continued to walk further and further, you don't know where, it could be just anywhere to be out of this man's grasp.

not even reaching an uncomfortable minute of making your way, Heeseung finally made it way up to you for god-know-what reason.

Only a few more threads left to untangle until you implode, besides showing this man what you're capable of doing, you weren't about to do anything in front of hundreds of people.

You swiftly turn to face the man following, "Look Mr. Lee, don't even attempt to come and step closer—" the hissy grin never ever fading from his look. Before you snap even further, you raise your head as the lights suddenly turn dim, the current music start to tone down as the band plays a new mellow romance.

The both of you faced your worries, silently questioning the sudden change of atmosphere.

"Now, it is time for the party where the gentleman… dances with the first lady they set their eyes on, Amuse-toi bien!"

…

..

.

His eyes were on you, and yours on him. Slowly developing the idea you most certainly would refuse to believe.

"No." You shook your head promptly with no hesitation.

"Y/N."

"No, don't even"

"Y/N—"

"No. Not ever. Never in my life. Never in a millennia. You can serve the mediocrity of mediocrity— I am not even paying attention to what I'm saying, but just so you know, I am not dancing with you."

You groaned continuously at his spews, this chit chatter going nowhere at all. Heeseung was also growing exhausted of your opposed responses. Hearing your never ending hatred for him is never known to him, although being in this position during an all rounded dance segment, he was not about to embarrass himself in front of such nobilities.

"Y/N just—" His hand abruptly slid up your waist sending your internal nerves through every stage of shockwaves.

"What are you—" Your words began to halt from his tightened grip, slowly putting power on pulling you closer… and closer… too close to say the least.

"Just this once, we don't want to leave a bad impression at a party we're just mere visitors at." His breath fanned your neck and sent shivers down your spine. Truly a feeling between his embrace that you have never felt before.

Too much of a guilt to even feel, considering this is the man you swore your whole life to loath yet here you are. No other way of escape out of this man's grasp, other than to spend a minute and more with him following the melodious rhythm serenading within the whole room.

"Fine. This doesn't change the fact that I want to scar my name on your face."

"How romantic." His lips curved sarcastically, eyes shifts into pure mockery as it lays on you. You couldn't say if you were teased by his softly menacing gaze or comforted by it. Eitherway, you couldn't register the right words.

"Besides," Heeseung continues, eyes darting away from yours, looking elsewhere within the ballroom, suddenly a light flashes your vision, snapping you back to your current position, right in front of Lee Heeseung.

"I don't even think we could get away from this anyway, we're literally in the middle of the dance floor." His head shifts in every direction to deem his assumption correct, which you mirrored.

It's true, the both of your are really in the middle of the ballroom.

You felt blockage on your throat, as if your vocal chords refused to spit words out of your mouth. The close proximity between you and Heeseung felt extremely new, you wanted to escape it so quickly yet, quite in a state of culture shock of his careful and kind demeanor as his every step to the rhythm of the music are seemingly careful not to make a mistake or you could say in other words, step on you.

The distance soothes, your hands still intact as the both of you walk in circles. His gaze locked onto you as if a man had seen the beauty of the moon for the very first time. He was allured, not only to the sight of your eyes but also your entire attire.

Who was he kidding? He was making fun of how you looked earlier, or was it you who taunted his? Even he couldn't remember. What is this contact causing him?

His eyes followed the direction of your eyes shifting all the way to your linked hands rising, following the rhythm and everyone else's. Only then Heeseung was able to return to his composure.

Being quiet with you didn't exactly make him feel like himself. It's indeed a peculiar case, his eyes fixated on your focused figure attempting for a thought, any words, any attacks, frankly quite anything.

"I feel conceived Lady Y/N," He started, your eyes now transferring to the man.

"Did you walk all the way here on purpose just to lure me in this dance?" He smirks, deeply hoping he did not look ridiculous in your eyes, which in fact, he did look ridiculous to you, though in basic sense, he always does.

You scoffed, "Don't be such a crude, I was walking away from you, or if you didn't understand that, I was escaping you. however, you followed me. If anything, you expected this dance to happen beforehand." You sneered at your words, feeling vastly proud of regaining the upper hand.

"Now now, shifting the blame onto me?" He jokingly asked, swaying forward and backward, then continuing to circle in unison.

"Well, I couldn't be wrong." Your raised your brows at the man, receiving a tuneful chuckle.

"You're ever so ethical now aren't you?"

you scoffed, "Touché."

After a few warm-hearted rhythms, the distance slowly basking in, his hand starts to tenderly slide from your hand up to your shoulder. Now facing your back at a dangerously close proximity. The way his fingertips barely made contact onto your skin yet it still tickled, sending you into unreasonable wonders.

Lee Heeseung? Sending you to unreasonable wonders?

"What if I tell you that I really expected this dance to happen and followed you to be able to have this dance with you?" he breathes out.

Your mind stood place, frozen. It couldn't function solely because of those words.

You knew this was his tactic of his obvious teasing yet... that had sent your heart into places you did not expect for it to reach. Your breathing abruptly stopping at every emphasis you place into his words.

It wasn't any different for the man, he was hellishly anxious.

The way his hand stood still on your shoulder, then slowly sliding it down to your hand the same thing he had done at the start. He felt crazy, he couldn't grasp the feeling whether he's disgusted at this contact or was it, satisfactory?

Heeseung's breath unawaringly hitched in unison to yours.

The high-rising tension the both of you are desperate to escape yet… would embrace it more long.

As Heeseung's hand reached your hand, the distance once more soothes, or did soothe for you? Did it to him?

One spin had the same closeness return, now you two are entirely facing each other.

How did this moment feel too slow? normally the dance routine did not walk this type of pace before, usually it happens quickly before the music finally comes to its end.

The silence echoed immediately through the other's ears, having the slight worry of gkving you discomfort.

Worried? Heeseung, really?

Heeseung lets himself battle his own internal conflicts as the outer silence continued. You were in a desperate measure of developing a genius idea for a comeback yet none came into mind. The unexplained whimsical threw you off, the fact this man had to send you in this type of frenzy was never in your lists of expectations.

Yet now, at this very moment, changed your very view on your surroundings.

All because of this very man you swore to loath ever since his eyes laid on you.

One last twirl to the maiden as the band's instruments faded into the void, completing the romantic waltz.

As everyone in the middle applauded their elegant and coordinated routine just now, both you and heeseung processed your breathledd tension just earlier.

Finally having all the words reached the right parts of your brain, finally having control of your conscious, your hatred to the man came back with it.

"Aww, you really do feel deep adoration for me, Lee Heeseung." you politely curtsied. contrasting to the tone of your voice, as you reply to the man's words from a few minutes back.

Heeseung lets out a chuckle, "You know what? Maybe I do have a thing for such abominations."

"Haha. Aren't you a clever guy." You gave him a wide infuriating smile, as you turn around walking away from his presence, now leaving the man at the middle of the dance floor.

It was a peculiar state for you. You swore you completely lie instense hatred for the man, yet now you're smiling at his mere words that usually drives you to banging your head on the wall, sometimes the urge to bang his head on the wall.

Yet what happened just earlier felt, extremely out of place, something you couldn't quite explain for the time being.

You were conflicted about being bothered by it.

How it bothered your feelings, bothered you deeply.

A memory that surely the both of you would engrave in later lifetime.

.

..

...

"Wow, she called me clever."

© seungiepup. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.

[redbleedingrose]

Rhys in grey sweatpants, I had that image put in my head now I want to spread the gospel 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

Just him with his sleep hair and voice in nothing but his grey sweatpants 😮‍💨

UMMMMMM

Rhysand is totally the best dressed of all the males in the night court and possibly Prythian.

Only Eris rivals him in the clothing department and I stand firm on that statement.

He just knows what gets you going. He knows the colors that suit him and he is not afraid to work it.

I feel like for the most part, Rhys really plays the role of high lord well. And he dresses the part too.

All of his clothes are freshly tailored and laundered. He never really wears the same outfit twice. And when he meets you???

He makes sure that you have all the clothes that you could ever want or need. He also insists on matching most days. You basically are THE moment in Prythian, everyone who isn't you wants to BE you. And it is all thanks to Rhysie's impeccable fashion sense. All your clothes make you look like the star of the night, pun not intended.

And all of your shoes and jewelry he has designed for you? Don't even get me started. Each outfit needs its own individualized look and feel and vibe. And he makes sure that is there for you. He is always there to help you put together your look.

Playing dress up for him is sooooo much fun. He has you doing twirls in your dresses and gets on his knees to help you put your heels on. He kisses every portion of your exposed neck whenever he clasps on your necklaces for you. You are treated like an utter princess around him, never having to lift a finger beyond your desire.

He also loves to help you with your earrings. And he is so gentle with it too. His pretty violet eyes focusing on your ear lobe as he ever so carefully puts in your earrings. He makes sure that they don't feel to heavy or cause any irritation to your ear as you are sensitive to different kinds of metals. When he is done, his eyes focus back on you with this look of utter pride that you are his. You are his mate. His high lady. His everything. And he is just obsessed.

You are lucky if you can make it to ANY event on time because this male will find any excuse to show you just how obsessed he is.

Back to Rhys' fashion sense...

He really rarely wears clothes that are "lounge wear." TBH, I feel like he started moreso a little after meeting you because he sees what it does to you.

Rhysie is the kind of male who can look good in practically anything. But in lounge wear??? send freaking help he is the hottest male to have ever EXISTED!!!

His gray sweatpants are one of your favs on him. He is always wearing it with a tight black or navy blue t-shirt that clings to his chest and shoulders and biceps. You can basically see the outline of his abs whenever he wears those shirts (which you will be riding later so help you gods).

And omg just think of all of his tattoos exposed on his corded forearms. And think about those muscles flexing while he fingers you speechless.

Anyway, poor rhysie needs to replace his sweatpants any time he wears them because they always end up stained from you riding his thigh.

But he knows that.

Thats why he wears them, slutty smug bastard. The smirk any time he pulls them out and surprises you by wearing them is enough to know that he knows exactly what he does to you. And he is proud of it too.

His formal clothing is not to be forgotten.

His tight fitting dress shirts where he leaves the top two buttons open so that you can see his smooth tan chest underneath??? The dark swirls intricately peaking out and climbing up his neck??? The small silver chain he wears??? The one that has your name engraved over and over, all along the metal because he belongs to you??? Because he knows that every part of him, his heart and soul, is all entirely owned by you???

The only ring he wears is his wedding ring too.

Sigh, I need a Rhys.

This was terrible but I love Rhysand so you are gonna get my unhinged thoughts about him always.

[octuscle]

I want to turn myself into a twinky fuck toy for a wealthy man. Can chronviac help me with that?

Well, as they say, everything's bigger in Texas… I'm a junior partner in a large New York asset management firm. We take care of the high net worth clients. To get into our client file, you have to have over USD 100 million in free liquidity. Our clients are demanding. But we are the best. And we do everything for our customers. Really EVERYTHING!

When I took over the clients of a colleague who had retired a month ago, I thought Chuck Tex was a stage name. Until I had my first appointment with him. His record was more than impressive. Heir to old oil and cattle nobility. Classic career of the Texas oil barons. School in New England, studied in Paris, Oxford and Zurich, founded his first start-up company at the age of 20. And sold at 25 for USD 500 million. Now in his mid-30s, he had not yet inherited a cent from his family, but thanks to his excellent education and connections, he had already amassed a fortune on a par with that of his old man. I expected… Actually, I had no idea what I was expecting… But I certainly didn't expect this:

Chuck looked like a porn star. Or a marriage fraud. Or just like a man who I couldn't wait to throw me on the bed and fuck me mercilessly. His handshake was firm, but finely dosed just before the pain threshold. His gaze could certainly cut through steel plates. But I was a professional, I kept my composure. After I asked him what I could do for him, he got straight to the point. First of all, he needed some cash for his stay in New York. USD 10,000 would be enough. Gladly 100 dollar bills. But hot off the press, please. That was no problem. I sent a short memo to my assistant and she would take care of it. But the real reason for his visit was a project in Greenwich Village. He had bought a few buildings there that he was renovating. His aim was to restore the Village to its former charm. That's why he wanted to create cheap apartments, studios and stores and eliminate expensive office space. The whole thing was not intended as an investment, more as a hobby. A kind of gay and creative Disneyland. I briefly wondered why I wasn't actually a billionaire… And then I asked Chuck what my role was. Whether I could help with the financing or with saving taxes.

Chuck just grinned. No, saving taxes wouldn't fit in with his understanding of patriotism. And he would have financed it all with his last start-up exit. But he would need someone to take care of the real estate. Someone to ensure the right tenant mix. Someone to give his studio apartment the right finishing touches. I briefly went through my network in my mind. I had a gay acquaintance who owned a number of bars and restaurants. And I also knew a good project developer. And one of my school friends was a hip interior designer. I smiled and said I probably had just the people he needed. Chuck smiled back. It made my heart stop. He didn't want anyone from my network. He wanted me. I was about to say that I was flattered, but that I wasn't available for such projects right now. But instead I said "Of course, Daddy". Did I want to accompany him to the construction site? "If I may, Daddy!" At that moment, my assistant came in with a bundle of freshly pressed banknotes. Chuck smiled and said he needed me for the rest of the day. Please cancel all my appointments. I nodded to her and followed Chuck like a dog to its master.

In his limousine, Chuck asked me if I had ever been to Texas. I answered in the negative. But the boots I was wearing looked authentic. Yeah, they were my pride and joy. But I wouldn't have ridden a bull yet. I shook my head and giggled like a schoolgirl. Chuck kneaded the bulge in his pants and said that I would definitely be fucked by a bull today. I only got out a "Thank you, Daddy". Chuck let me sit on his lap. He undid another button of his silk shirt and exposed his right nipple. Like a puppy on its mother's teat, I began to suckle. Chuck kneaded my bulge and said that I was a good boy.

The car came to a halt in the second row in front of an old brick building. The walls were covered in high-quality graffiti. There was a closed table dance bar downstairs and some kind of jewelry store upstairs. Some kind of jewelry on display. Made of stainless steel. On closer inspection, piercing jewelry, cock rings and stainless steel dildos. I looked in the shop window like a child in the window of a candy store. Chuck took my hand, pulled me into the stairwell and told me that I could choose something later if I was good. He stroked the long hair on the back of my neck. I love my Mullet. I look a bit like the young cowboys on Daddy's Daddy's farm.

We had just arrived at Chuck's empty apartment when I got down on my knees in front of him and unbuttoned his pants. "First you strip for me, boy," Chuck ordered. He tossed me a cowboy hat that was in a closet. "Everything but your briefs, boots and hat!". Eagerly awaiting the reward, I did everything I was told to do. "And now lube yourself up". He threw me a bottle. And I did as I was told. I could feel my hard-earned muscles disappearing. I felt younger and younger. Although it was hard as steel, my cock was getting smaller and smaller. "I think you need a little more decoration, boy," Chuck said and put a chain on me. Satisfied, he looked at me as I sat on the floor and could hardly wait for my reward.

Chuck took his boner out of his pants. And I leaned back in anticipation. I wanted to be a good houseboy. And today was the housewarming party.

Chuck's pic found @mensuited, yours @hellishin

[gh0st-author]

dress.

pairing: William James Moriarty x reader summary: Oh, tempting William was so deliciously amusing for you to do. To kindle the flame you knew was dancing behind his eyes, to fuel it in its confines and observe him attempting to conceal it and thaw it out.

tags: fluff, very suggestive (nothing explicit but it is heated)

warnings: as i said it is very suggestive, they also unalive a nobleman

A/N: so this wasn't originally meant to be posted, it was just something in my drafts, but since it happened to be William's birthday today i thought i might as well finish it. so happy birthday Liam here's your cake

Another glance in his direction, across the crowded hall. Another hidden smile from him. You knew you shouldn't; this game you were playing was too perilous, too dangerous. You weren't supposed to goad William like this. But you simply couldn't resist. Usually, you or Albert were the ones who found themselves at these events, because as the oldest brother he had too keep up the appearances most often, but this night was different. Tonight, William was present as well. He was right beside his brother, a picture-perfect gentleman, charming and captivating. It was an incredibly rare occurrence as he preferred to work behind the scenes, not really drawing attention to himself more than necessary. And unlucky for you, all your attention happened to be on him tonight, despite the risk of it endangering the mission. But it was too addicting. The music too sensual. The candlelight too dim. The perfumes too intoxicating. And the game you presented him with too enjoyable. Another taste of your wine. Another brush of his gaze. You needed to make sure that no one was the wiser to the desperation building beneath your skin. You were dancing around an open flame, stretching out your body above it, hoping to not get incarcerated by the proximity. Still, you couldn't be blamed, it was so rare for you to see your lover adorned so dashingly.

It was all subtle. Your glass against your lips. Your tongue lightly catching the droplets soaking them. His intense glance catching the act. And it was fun, so incredibly amusing to for once toy with him like this given the chance, to slowly gnaw away at his immaculate control that he prided himself on so and wore like a mask. You still remembered the words you whispered to him in the darkness of your bedroom earlier today, the memory of them flashing through your mind making your lips stretch into a devious grin. This is a secret, but my gown for tonight... it was bought specifically with you in mind. Much more than wearing it, I am anticipating what you will do with it later tonight after we return. You could still feel the tremble that raced down William's spine, could still hear his low, tortured groan and uneven whisper of: Do not tempt me, darling. Being aware of the effect you had on your lover and feeling the desire simmering between you too was heady, to say the least.

Alas, no matter how much you wanted to give into your desires, you were a performer, both for him and for the Lord you were tasked with distracting tonight. And a performer had to play her role outstandingly. Your secret moments and glances would have to stay just that— secret. For no one could know you were affiliated with him. You were just another face in the crowd, an unassuming bejeweled rose without thorns. These glimmering banquets were your battlefield, your wit and your charm your weapons, which you brandished flawlessly with every new job you were assigned by the brothers. Meeting William and working with him only served to hone them more— a simple touch here, a sweet whisper there, and your targets were putty under your fingers, ready to follow you wherever you wished. Which usually happened to be their untimely but deserved demise at the hands of you or one of the others from the group. And for as long as they and William had any use of you, you would continue to play your part in their plans without a fault.

Deciding against continuing this game between you two for now, you downed your glass and set out to find your target— Lord Brownlow. He was a local aristocrat rumored to kidnap young ladies from such events and traffic them on the black market. In other words, a perfect target to be bewitched and disposed of by you. After a quick search, you found him, surrounded by numerous important individuals. Even from where you were standing you could see his false smiles and his calculating glances to the women around him. Your act already in place, you sauntered over to him, gown swaying with your movements, your practiced smile of awe and admiration plastered on your face. "Lord Brownlow, a pleasure to meet you."

You were a novelty, a new interesting toy for him to play with. The conversation flowed from your lips effortlessly, each word a careful trap meant to ensnare the Lord's attention, to keep him guessing and wanting more. Each move a thought-out maneuver to entice him and cloud his judgment. You listened to his stories attentively, smiled and nodded when expected, and stroked his ego when he so wished. And what an ego he had. He was so filled to the brim with his own self-importance that he steered you around forcing you into a conversation with any noble he could, no doubt to brag about his own status and to show off how well off he was. Still, you participated beautifully, never letting your true nature show.

After who knows what number of nobles, he turned to you, still keen on continuing. "Do you mind if I introduce you to another one of my acquaintances?

You smiled at him mindlessly, feigned admiration painted across your features. As if you were truly interested in anything he had to say, hanging onto his every word. "None at all, Lord Brownlow. Please, lead the way."

Pleased with your apparent high regard for him and your respect, he hurriedly led you through the throngs of people, seeking out the aforementioned noble. Your gaze darted around, attempting to pinpoint the person in question. Only when his gait hastened with renewed purpose, having found who he was searching for, did you manage to catch a glimpse of the man that had caught his eye.

And...

Oh, well, who would've thought? It seemed that tonight was indeed your lucky night, for he was leading you straight to the object of your obsession tonight. You briefly considered the possibility of William having arranged this beforehand, but the look of delighted surprise on his face as you and the Lord neared him convinced you otherwise. So, a lucky coincidence it seemed. Or a fate-given opportunity? No, of course not. Even though it might not have been planned for him and the Lord to converse like this, it was far from a coincidence. You knew William and him were acquainted, but by the genuine eagerness with which Lord Brownlow was leading you to him, it seemed as if William took the phrase 'keep your friends close; keep your enemies closer' quite literally. Always aligning and governing his pawns, that cunning mind of his.

The Lord halted right in front of him, proudly puffing out his chest. No doubt, hoping to impress you with his arsenal of connections— with his importance. "This is Lord William Moriarty. Second son of the deceased Earl Moriarty. We met a short while ago and happened to become quite familiar with each other."

William turned to regard you fully, his scarlet gaze bright but betraying nothing. As you stood before him like this, you felt weirdly exposed, despite the opulent gown— or maybe exactly because of it. You arrived separately so as to not raise any suspicion so he didn't have the chance to admire you from up close. His face was a perfect polite mask, but you knew he was drinking up your visage like a man starved. Everywhere his gaze touched burned so pleasurably you never wished for it to stop. In fact, all of this silence and patience, waiting and pining in anticipation, made you more eager— made you crave more. You wanted him to trace wherever he looked with his hands, his lips. Your own hands were shaking from holding back from touching him.

Acting like the perfect pawn you were, you buried your need deep beneath your vast experience in lying and deceit, using it as a cover to dampen the inferno in you, and held out your hand courteously for him to kiss. Not a trace of a woman currently longing, yearning, craving. "I don't believe we have been acquainted, Lord Moriarty."

Never taking his eyes off yours, he raised your hand to his lips, leaving it there much longer than necessary. The kiss was almost a promise— or a threat. You weren't sure which. "Indeed we are not, I would have remembered a woman as stunning as you are."

You fought your instinctive pull to draw closer to him, to see just how close you could slot your body against his. To get lost in his knowing gaze. Instead, you chose to slowly pull your hand away and giggle behind it. "Oh, you flatter me, my Lord. I am sure someone of your caliber has ample choice of ladies aiming for your attention."

The smile he gave you was pure serpentine curling of the lips, the look in his eyes pure hunter regarding his prey. "I assure you, my attentions lay elsewhere."

My attention is only on you, his look seemed to say. Your heart stuttered in your chest, beating so loud you were afraid he and Lord Brownlow could hear it. So careful. They had to be so incredibly careful. They were threading a fine line, one misstep and it could all come crashing down around them.

"His attention is only always focused on his work, he never entertains the women around him." Lord Brownlow sighed, seemingly unaware of the building tension between you and William. A perfect figure of an older gentleman concerned for the youth, as if he was giving sound advice out of genuine benevolence. "Honestly, Lord Moriarty, you should follow your older brother's example. Now, Lord Albert knows how to entertain a lady. It's not a good idea for a noble gentleman such as yourself to always keep his head in the books."

William diverted his attention from you to the Lord, chuckling gently as if this entire meeting was just a pleasant interaction. A born noble navigating the labyrinth of high society magnificently. The irony was not lost on you. "I will keep your words in mind, Lord Brownlow."

It was getting harder and harder to keep focused with him so close, yet thoroughly out of reach. It was due time for you to leave and initiate the next phase of the plan. Deciding that one last stunt was in order, you grabbed your target's hand, feigning interest in him, but you were only looking at the man in front of you. "Lord Brownlow, I am sure Lord Moriarty knows how to entertain himself. What do you say we make our way to the dance floor." You ran your hand down the front of your dress as if showing it off, but in truth, you drew attention to the way the corset hugged your curves. "After all, I just bought this dress today, it would be a shame for me to wear it and not be seen dancing in it."

It was a momentary weakness, a flash of that fire in his eyes gone instantaneously, almost as fast as it appeared. Oh, he looked so composed yet his self-control was frying at the edges, unraveling thread by thread with each passing moment. He, too, played his role of a respectable noble magnificently, only the slight sharpening of his gaze and an almost imperceptible sly curling of his lips betraying his rapidly waning restraint.

You offered him your most innocent smile. "Please excuse us, Lord Moriarty." Your words were the sweetest nectar, a saccharine phrase dipped in venom. Another one of your baits successfully eaten, another one of your hooks digging into flesh. You suppressed your giggle as you gave a parting bow and pivoted to twine through the dense crowd with Lord Brownlow, embracing him and slotting yourself into a waltzing position. Oh, tempting William was so deliciously amusing for you to do. To kindle the flame you knew was dancing behind his eyes, to fuel it in its confines and observe him attempting to conceal it and thaw it out. Once again, this game you were playing was dangerous, but you were addicted to the thrill, and you suspected he was as well if the looks he was throwing your way as you glided around the room were any indication.

You felt his eyes on you even as you danced, gossamer and silk flowing around you in mesmerizing patterns. Even as you coyly slipped the slow-acting poison in the Lord's drink while no one was looking. Even as you silently snuck out of the room, vanishing as a phantom, before it took effect. You wouldn't be present when it all happened. A ghost, a shadow, leaving no trace behind. Exactly as William wanted.

Only when you finally arrived at their manor, obscured by the inky darkness of the night, did you let yourself breathe. The still air of your and William's bedroom greeted you pleasantly and you slowly made your way in, haphazardly discarding your numerous jewellery on the desk nearby along the way. Your body was still thrumming with adrenaline from a successful mission, but even more than that it was brimming with something deeper— more desperate. William and Albert would soon return to the estate now that the ball had been interrupted, and the fire that you had been suppressing the entire night threatened to burst out. You had no doubts he felt the same. The fun dance you two have been trapped in the entire night has finally reached its conclusion. The most delightful reward or the most delicious punishment— you wonder which one awaited you upon his arrival.

After what felt like an eternity, slow footsteps sounded in the hallway, unmistakably making their destination known, and the door creaked open almost soundlessly. Your spine tingled as he entered the room, yet you didn't spare him a glance, pretending to busy yourself with removing the accessories from your hair. "I assume everything went according to plan?"

His answering chuckle was accompanied by the rustle of clothes as he discarded his suit jacket. "Everything unfolded beautifully. No one seems to understand how the poison ended up in poor Lord Brownlow's drink." He threw you a conspiratorial grin. "After all, they were all too preoccupied later by the documents a servant managed to uncover in his room, detailing all his atrocities."

You nodded. The tension in the room was palpable, but neither of you wanted to interrupt this tentative stalemate you found yourself in. You were both content to wait the other out— another quick round of your game, this one much shorter and much less torturous. Only when the last accessory left your hair, the mass of it unraveling down your back, did you glance in his direction. "I seem to require some assistance with my dress"

With one hand you threw your hair over your shoulder, body trembling with anticipation as he leisurely made his way to you. It was almost agonizing really, the unhurried way in which his hands traced your arms and shoulder blades down to the corset, leaving in their wake a sea of goosebumps. His lips ghosted over the skin of your neck. "You looked ravishing tonight. I didn't have the opportunity to tell you sooner." His fingers made quick work of the lace and countless hidden clasps and buttons of your corset. "That was quite an ordeal you pulled."

You laughed, a little breathless. "Don't speak as if you didn't enjoy it."

William's lips pulled into a grin, lightly nipping your skin. "You wicked thing, I'm inclined to believe you enjoy tormenting me."

You gasped, leaning back closer to him. "Is it truly torment if I give you exactly what I promised?"

"After the torture you put me through I think I deserve at least some recompense for your actions." As you felt the dress slip from your shoulders, silky fabric sliding down and pooling around your feet, his lips caressed the skin of your shoulder. "And I must say the reward for my patience will be worthwhile indeed."

Delightful reward it was for tonight it seemed.

[fanfiction-blep]

CAN I REQ FOR BRAT TAMING QUARITCH bc im OBSESSED with the idea of him saying "whats wrong, didnt you ask for this sweetheart" while brat taming u, oh yes navi!quaritch x navi or human reader (up to you) also maybe quaritch with a spanking and belly bulge kink too 🤭

PLS DOO!! tyyty

PLEASE This man is 1000% a brat tamer. This was so much fun... I hope you enjoy ;)

Brat Tamer Miles Quaritch

Warnings: Dom Miles Quaritch/Brat tamer. Smut, Mentions of fingering, Restraints. Dirty talk. Degradation only if you squint tbh. Fluffy care giver if you squint. Daddy kink.

"OKAY! So hear me out. This man is 10000% a brat tamer wanna know how I know? A brat can see a tamer from a mile away.

look at him, he wants submission from everyone but he takes joy in forcing someone to submit. He takes pleasure in knowing he has the power to push you into submission.

Also as every Dom should he acknowledges your submission as a privilege he realises that it proves how much you trust him. You know how deep his degradation and punishments can go, so when you tease him understanding all to well exactly what is in store for you. He knows you understand the risks. (As you have vocalised this many times to each other.) In this sense his brat tamer tendencies aren't exclusive to the bedroom. He knows he has to take a more care taking role at times.

"Drink you're water princess" "Don't fucking pout at me, drink ya water. Or you want something else in ya mouth?" "Yes Daddy" "Good girl"

He will be so caring outside the bedroom, out side the wondering eyes of others. He is a very private man, he doesn't want everyone knowing his business as long as people know that you are his than that is all that matters.

He will mark you up real good to let the others know too, he'll take pride in you marking him. The first time you bit into his neck and left marks Lyle couldn't help himself. "Have a good time last night Colonel" sniggering while you blush hard, he would place his hand over your lower back in support. "Mind ya business Lyle." secretly he loves the attention, he doesn't want to get into details or have everyone be clued in on you're relationship. As long as people know he owns you, that's all he needs.

NOW inside the bedroom.

You will tease him, for days sometimes. Whether its lingering touches or pressing you body against his. If you haven't been able to be alone for a hot minuet than you'll push it further by wearing a low cut tank, showing a little more cleavage than you normally would. That would push him over the edge, there really isn't much need for skirts on Pandora. However if you retire first to your shared bedroom and he walks in on you undressing/in your underwear... Girl i feel sorry for you.

He'll close the door real slow, do the eyebrow raise thing and lock the door.

there is a cabinet next to the door, at the end of your shared bed. This is where he keeps all the kinky stuff. So if he walks in on you barley clothed or even after a day of teasing he will pull out a pair of cuffs and stalk over to you.

"Strip" Yes sir "On the bed" Anything you say daddy.

Whether you are human or Na'vi man is HUNG so you need a lot of foreplay before anything can actually happen and in moments where you have teased him. He will use foreplay as a part of the punishment. He wont give oral as foreplay as it wouldn't be a punishment.

King of edging!! He will finger you, play with you're clit and keep going until you are a mess. Unable to do anything other than writhe underneath him due to the restraints.

WILL MAKE YOU BEG FOR HIS COCK. omg could you imagine him just tilting his head pushing a lip out and looking down at you. "Ya gotta ask real nice, only good girls get rewards." "Since you want to act like a fuckin' brat i gotta fuck some manners into you"

When he finally pushes himself inside you, your wound up so tight from all the edging its too much.

"Please, daddy. It's too much" At your whimpers he would start snapping his hips into yours holding you're hips down ensuring he can continue his harsh rhythm. "What's wrong sweetheart" He'd mutter between thrusts "Didn't you ask for this? acting like fuckin' brat all day. isn't this what you wanted? To be full of my cock?" You're head would turn to the side his words sending electricity straight to you're core.

His hand would cup your chin forcing you to look at him. "You look away I stop. Understood?" You would nod into his palm, desperate for him to make you cum. "Good girl, now tell me. Didn't you want this? for me to stuff you with my cock, claim you?" A whine left you're lips struggling to form a sentence, his pace slowed down his eyes warning you to speak. "YeS! Please, that's all i wanted you to fuck me" "Fuck" He would growl thumbs beginning to bruise you're hip bones as he slammed into you, bringing you to the edge of your orgasm.

The cocky bastard would lean back on the balls of his feet and start thrusting into you at a new angle. "I don't know if you deserve to cum" He would mutter pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. Pulling you're hips slowly down on his cock. "Please" The beg that left your mouth was desperate, your eyes pleading with him. "Please I'll be good, I need it. Need to cum on you're cock daddy"

"Hmm" He would hum nodding and then he would start thrusting into you pulling yours hips to meet his own, his pace brutal and the sounds leaving his mouth fucking primal. he was a beast and he fucked you into at least two orgasms.

"Ya wanna cum again for me?" His head was thrown back, mouth agape. "Too much" You'd shake your head whimpering and whining beneath him. "thought ya were gonna be a good girl for me" You whined in defeat, almost closing you're eyes due to the pleasure. You're eyes would meet his and he would smirk at you, snapping his hips harder. "You wanna cum with daddy?" You would nod your wrists biting into the restraints. within moments he had you both cumming.

this man!! Please!!!

Brat tamer Quaritch should never be tempted unless you are mentally physically and spiritually prepared to have you're pussy wrecked.

[lathalea]

Entangled 2/10

The first question I'd like to ask you today is: Do you remember a little fic called The Best Day of My Life I wrote a while back? Don't worry, me neither ;) It simmered in my head and what started off as a standalone ficlet, grew into something bigger. Back then, it was written in the first-person narrative, but as it grew into a longer story in my head, I decided to change the subsequent chapters to the third-person perspective. This story was born from an inspiration I found when researching certain medieval traditions, especially when it comes to arranged marriages in royal families, and the role women played in these arrangements. It inspired me to wonder what it would look like in Dwarven societies of Middle Earth. I hope you enjoy it! Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield x Dwarf OFC (The Hobbit) Rating: G (subject to change) Warnings: ANGST Summary: Arranged marriages are common among the dwarven nobility. After reclaiming the Lonely Mountain, the Kingdom Under the Mountain needs to be rebuilt. Thorin agrees to marry a lady from the Blue Mountains, securing a mutually beneficial alliance with the Broadbeam Dwarves. Lady Mista is said to be a practical and hard-working dwarf-woman, willing to give him an heir who would secure the line of succession. A decent queen material, his advisors say. If only Thorin could let go of his past… You can find this fic on AO3 (search for lathalea). Special thanks for @legolasbadass for all your help and support 💙 ✨ Chapter list: Chapter 1 (Prologue) | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 ...

Khuzdul: Azsâlul'abad - the Lonely Mountain (both the mountain and the dwarven kingdom known among Elves and Men as Erebor) Uzbad ra zabdûna undu ‘Urd - King and Queen Under the Mountain

TA 2942, one year after the Reclamation of Azsâlul'abad

“Your Majesty, My Lady, brothers and sisters in stone, we have all eagerly waited for this moment,” The High Priest’s sonorous voice rang out in the festively decorated Great Hall of the Lonely Mountain. “May the Pleating Ceremony commence!”

It was happening. 

Mista swallowed. It felt as if the eyes of every single person present in the cavern were on her. As instructed earlier, Mista took off the veil that had covered her hair which was unbraided and adorned only with minuscule diamonds, and stepped stiffly towards the King. Her hands were clammy, and she tried not to stumble. The slippers and the opulent ceremonial gown she wore were incredibly uncomfortable and heavy. What a blunder it would be if she landed on the floor face down at that very moment! The court etiquette did not forbid her to wear her glasses, so at least she could see her surroundings clearly… including the crowds that gathered for the ceremony in the Great Hall. 

Closing her eyes, she focused on her breathing, then something brushed against her temple. Mista flinched like a startled pony.

“No need to be alarmed, My Lady.” A low, rumbling murmur reached her ears. It was the King’s voice; she could have recognized his calm, confident manner everywhere. “Allow me to choose a suitable lock of your hair.” “By all means, Your Majesty,” Mista mumbled, feeling how close he stood to her, his arm brushing against hers, and how his fingers slowly ran through her hair. She did not know that a male touch could be so gentle. The only people allowed to touch her hair before this day were her mother, sister, and personal maid.

“Thank you, My Lady. Would you allow me to compliment you?” the King said and, not waiting for her reply, he  added. “I do not think I have seen such exquisite hair before.”

“I… thank you, Your Majesty,” she whispered, attempting to calm herself. Did the King himself truly think her hair was exquisite? A realisation dawned upon her. Of course not; he must have referred to its uncommon length, that was all. It was the only source of Mista’s pride — perhaps the colour of her hair was plain and common, but she had always kept it long, and currently it reached almost to her knees. And now, the King’s nimble fingers ran through it, once, twice, and then began pleating her hair slowly, each of his movements deliberate. It was a surprisingly pleasant sensation, but even then, she did not dare to open her eyes especially when the tips of his fingers lightly brushed against her cheek, making her tremble at the sensation.

“It may help you to imagine that there is only you and me here.” His quiet voice reached her again. 

“Pardon?” Mista’s breath hitched.

“During straining official functions I tend to imagine that there are only stone statues around me, carved in amusing poses. It helps to tackle the nerves.”

Mista’s eyes fluttered open and met the King’s azure gaze. An encouraging smile danced on his lips moments before he returned to braiding.

“I did not know someone like you could feel… nervous, Your Majesty,” she heard herself say.

“My coronation felt ten times worse than facing the enemy during the Battle of the Five Armies.” His reply made Mista chuckle. His smile widened, making his handsome face even more alluring. For a heartbeat, she forgot how to breathe, simply staring at him. 

Click.

The King clasped his bead around her new braid. Gold encrusted with onyx contrasted with the plainness of her mousy hair, but the pattern made it somehow more refined. She took the braid into her hand and admired its even, elegant weaves.

“It is beautiful, Your Majesty,” she whispered.

The King gave her a thankful nod. Mista felt his intent gaze on her. His Durin’s apple bobbed. Something was not right… Why were his features so tense?

It took her a moment to understand. With her cheeks burning, she took a step towards him. How could she have forgotten that now it was her turn?

“May I…?” Her voice failed her, but no words were necessary. The King lowered his head towards her, his hair flowing freely in front of her eyes. 

With trembling fingers, she picked a thick lock of hair on his left temple and divided it into four parts. His hair was smooth and thick, making her think of a wolf’s fur, but it smelled like sweet oils from faraway lands in the South. Mista wanted to keep on braiding it for as long as she could. She thanked Mahal that she knew her personal pattern by heart — otherwise, she would have surely entangled his hair or ended up with a bunch of knots instead of the braid. Focused on plaiting it, she forgot about everything around her — there was only the King, Thorin, the Dwarf who unknowingly captured her heart a long time ago. Now, with every weave, she was willingly bestowing her whole self upon him.

Her bead was made of bronze and tiny sapphires from the Blue Mountains. For some reason, it refused to close around the King’s braid, making Mista sigh, but then one of his large, warm hands encircled her fingers that held the bead, and pressed it harder together. 

Click.

It was done.

Mista’s heart beat faster and faster as the King Under the Mountain took her hands into his. They were facing each other in a way that allowed everyone gathered in the Great Hall to see them from the side.

“Foreheads,” the High Priest whispered, barely moving his lips, holding something in his hands that glinted in the light of hundreds of lanterns.

The King squeezed her hands gently and lowered himself towards her once more. Mista took a deep breath and stood on her tiptoes so that their foreheads could meet.

His skin was pleasantly warm against hers, his nose brushed against hers, and she could feel the warmth of his breath on her face. Instinctively, she closed her eyes, but the last thing she saw were his lips, slightly parted, and so close, so very close to hers, and there was his beard too, and she wondered how it would feel if…

“What Mahal has joined over the marriage anvil, no power shall break apart until the end of days,” the High Priest exclaimed, his voice loud and clear, like the sound of a gunmetal bell, drowning all of her inappropriate thoughts. 

“Thorin, son of Thrain, Mista, daughter of Milva, you are now husband and wife. Uzbad ra zabdûna undu ‘Urd!”

Loud cheers filled the spacious cavern as the white-bearded priest bound their hands together with a thin but unbreakable mithril chain — a symbol of the eternal bond they forged a moment ago. This was one of the most revered traditions of Mahal’s Children: Dwarves married only once. Mista read a treaty once that explained the origin of this ancient tradition: one of the oldest Dwarven legends said that each of the Seven Fathers of the Dwarves had one spouse, and that each couple was made from one piece of stone, destined to be always together, as one mind, body, and heart. A long time had passed since Mista was an overly romantic lass who believed that each Dwarf had their beloved Other Half somewhere in the world. Now she was over one hundred and thirty years old, and during her lifetime, she saw too many dalliances, clandestine affairs, and broken promises to believe that her people were capable of loving only once and only the right person. Dwarves were a fiery race, with molten lava running in their veins rather than cold pieces of rock. Nevertheless, their marriages were the cornerstones of society, crucially important to every family, and so a wedded couple was supposed to be like a rock: steady and unbreakable. That was Mahal’s will, as the priests said. Therefore, the dissolution of marriage was impossible. If a Dwarf broke their marital vows — which, as dishonourable as it was, happened from time to time — they would still remain married to their spouse. Even death did not end it, as her people believed that they would remain married even in the afterlife, in the Halls of Awaiting. That was why Dwarven courtship would often last many years so that the future spouses had ample time to know each other well before they made this irreversible decision.

Mista’s courtship lasted one month. That was how much time Lord Tair, her father, needed to finalise negotiations with the King Under the Mountain. During that time, she never saw her future husband. That was to be expected — the Blue Mountains were almost half a world away from King Thorin II’s kingdom, Azsâlul'abad. Instead, his envoys arrived with the marriage contract signed in his own hand and a chest filled with customary gifts for his future bride: jewellery, hair combs, and a traditional courtship cloak. There was also a letter addressed to her. It contained all the obligatory niceties along with His Majesty’s apology for his absence due to the fact that his kingdom was being rebuilt and needed all of his attention at the moment. He assured his bride, however, that he was looking forward to meeting her in person and offering her as much hospitality as he had received in Tumunzahar years ago.

He remembered.

Over one hundred years had passed, and he still remembered his visit to her home city. Precisely like Mista. She never forgot how gallant and handsome he was, how his words dried her tears, and how he made her feel as if she, the ugliest girl at the feast, were the only woman in the whole world.

Perhaps that mawkish idea of Dwarves finding their Other Halves was not true, but she was certain of one thing: she still loved the same Dwarf as she did all those years ago. Her heart belonged to Thorin Oakenshield.

And now she was his wife. Her eyes were still set on the glistening links of the mithril chain that joined her hands when she heard the High Priest’s words.

“My King, My Queen.” He bowed with reverence, “It is time for your wedding feast.”

The only thing she could think of at that very moment was how good her hand felt in her lord husband’s reassuring hold.

***

The feast that celebrated their nuptials was an event like no other. Mista had never seen any revelries that were full of equal splendour. Countless guests from all seven dwarven realms were entertained by minstrels, musicians, dancers, and other performers. The food was delicious; wine and other liquors flowed endlessly, like the River Running, and everyone was merry. Mista sat on a grand chair placed on the King’s right hand. Now, both of them wore their crowns and royal insignia, and together, as the newlywed ruling couple of the Kingdom Under the Mountain, they accepted countless toasts and congratulations from the well-wishers throughout the evening. Mista tried her best to act with decorum worthy of the queen she had become hours ago, and she even managed to appear unflustered whenever the customary “May Mahal bless your union with countless heirs!” reached her ears. 

From time to time she managed to steal a glance at the King’s – her new husband’s – majestic profile, struggling to believe that this day was not a dream. But then she remembered the marriage braid hanging at her temple – and a similar braid in his hair. She truly was the great Thorin Oakenshield’s wife.

It was two bells after midnight when the weariness started to creep up on her.

“Is the feast to your liking, lady Mista?” the King turned to her, clearly noticing her attempt at stifling a yawn.

“Indeed it is! Forgive me, the celebrations took a toll on me, I’m afraid,” she explained, feeling the growing heaviness of her crown on her temples.

“It is perfectly understandable,” Princess Dis, the King’s sister, said. “It has been a long day. Perhaps it is time for you to repose.”

“May I…? Does the protocol allow it?” Mista took a hopeful look around the Great Hall where the feast was as lively as it was at its very beginning.

“May I remind you that now you are the Queen?” the King offered. “You may leave whenever you wish to do so.”

“And my brother will accompany you,” Princess Dis interjected, and then addressed the King. “Tonight you are only allowed to leave together.”

Mista caught a strange look they exchanged, and – after a noticeable pause – King Thorin said, “Very well.”

“Shall we, then?” He rose from his chair and held out his hand to Mista.

Leaving the Great Hall was not as easy a task as Mista expected. They had to endure another round of the official farewells, wedding toasts and felicitations from their numerous guests.

“Have a wonderful night!” Princess Dis exclaimed in a sing-song voice as they were stepping over the threshold.

“Aye, and a long one, too!” Dwalin, the King’s Captain, added, and they both laughed.

Their words sounded innocently enough for Mista at first, but they made the King clear his throat in visible embarrassment. 

And then it dawned on Mista. One more thing awaited her.

The wedding night.

✨ Chapter list: Chapter 1 (Prologue) | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 ... 💙💙💙 Read it? Like it? Spread the love and reblog it! 💙💙💙

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[aleksanderscult]

Today I will rant about Malina

Because this ship tried to be passed on as an ideal relationship to have.

*spoiler: it wasn't*

Malina is a ship that was shoved down our throats throughout the trilogy. Whether you shipped it or not you were bound to read about it in literally every other page.

And what are the negative aspects of this ship?

Literally EVERYTHING.

Let's start with Mal. The number 1 asshole in this trilogy.

And yes he is the number 1 and not Aleksander since Aleksander was a character with a goal. He had a grand plan that exceeded selfishness and pure evil and he used any means necessary to fulfill it. But Mal? Remind me, what was his plan?

Well, at the start of the trilogy to fuck around girls and then, when Alina began to feel something for someone else, to undermine her, latch on her and chastise her. There you have his role.

The minute Alina started having a life of her own outside his influence, the little jerk felt overlooked and his pride got hurt.

It's evident that Alina felt quite unseen from Mal in the beginning. He flirted and fucked girls right in front of her face (since she very clearly knew) and he even stopped hanging around with her as much as he did in the past.

Quite a start.

And then when Alina found her strength, happiness and place in the Little Palace he got offended. Why isn't she tortured as the rumors had said? What are these clothes that she's wearing? Why is she happy? And, most importantly, WHY IS SHE HAPPY WITH ANOTHER MAN??

Alina at that moment felt like she was walking on eggshells around him. She didn't know what to say without provoking him further. And when she found her voice, the little prick got all puffed up and left without even apologizing for ruining her nice evening.

Then we have Mal not talking to her as if it wasn't his own decision to abandon the army and follow her and again made her feel bad for even mentioning the Darkling.

It appears that Mal had no problem when his best friend bullied Alina but went actual feral when a (powerful) guy showed interest in her. Insecure, aren't we Mal?

In the following books we have Mal being okay that Alina doesn't use her powers and therefore being weak.

We have Mal being more concerned if Alina fucked the Darkling than being tortured by him. Apparently he wanted her virginity for him, I don't know.

We have Mal acting like crazy because Alina decided to return to Ravka to lead the remaining Grisha. But what about him?? What about his needs?? And what if he decides not to follow her? What will she do then?

(people call the Darkling manipulative but let me show you another person that you overlook as manipulative, my friends)

He gets angry when she hesitates to kiss him and again makes her feel bad about it. And how does he respond with that?

Revenge!!✨✨

Kisses Zoya, a woman he fucked before, and then threw the blame to Alina ("at least she doesn't flinch when I kiss her" "why do you care? You don't care about me anyway") Gaslighting at its finest form, my friends! 👌 Knew that she would be hurt, knew that she had feelings for him and still did it.

Oh and let's forget how he wanted the good, old Alina back! The sickly one that always depended on him for company and strength. He basically asked her to tear out a piece of her soul! 🥰🥰

And then, of course, jeopardized both her image and her safety by getting drunk and getting into fights (*whispering* we, the readers, are supposed to find this very romantic, okay? A man that drinks, sulks and makes the heroine feel bad. Just so you know).

Then the author made a 360° and presented Mal in R&R as changed and a very good person. Willing to die heroically for his love. How did she do that?

💕💕With zero development!!💕💕

One minute he's up there in the chapel being a jerk and the next minute he's underground and changed. I think it must have been the change of air, what do you think?

I have a huge problem with Leigh Bardugo about this. She presents Darklina as toxic. And it is. She presents Nikolina as little to zero toxic. And it is. But when she presents Malina, it's a really good, cute ship!! Not toxic at all with lots of possibilities! Leigh has constantly defended it saying "Oh but Mal was a teenager".

Ma'am? I was a teenager once and I never made my best friends feel like shit.

And as have everyone said before, Mal hits veeery close at home. He's every jerk that you have met in your life and you will meet again.

With Darklina you have nothing to fear. Because no one will put the collar of a magical stag around your throat, no one will have a nichevo'ya bite your shoulder, no one will ask you to abandon your friends so you can save some Grisha from the persecution. But plenty of men will slut-shame you for what you're wearing, plenty will feel insecure for being stronger and more famous than them, plenty will make you feel like shit for finding happiness and plenty will sabotage you by taking revenge kissing someone else.

Malina is a ship that is REAL.

While Darklina is your typical, fantastical ship.

Her hard efforts to pass it on to the readers as something healthy and inspiring is disgusting and makes me hate it even more.

Now from Alina's perspective things are even more tragic, since Alina never grows as a character because of him.

She always thinks "What about Mal? Will Mal follow me? What if he doesn't? It's my fault. It's all my fault. Where is Mal?".

This is it. This is the trilogy in a summary.

A heroine that seems more concerned about Mal than the country and people that expect from her to save them.

"Alina doesn't want a crown. That's why she left"

Girl, I don't want to go to work every day either.

Kids don't want to wake up to go to school.

People don't want to pay taxes every year.

But we do them because we MUST.

Just like Alina should stay, lead and rule because that's what she should do as the protagonist. Not pass on her own duties to others and say "gotta go lolz". Malina could be used as a plotline for Alina to gain strength from by casting aside Mal's influence and finding her own power inside herself. Instead Leigh did the opposite: stripped her powers (her own self) to fit in Mal's world.

And this excuse that the author had given ("some women don't want to wear crowns") is pathetic and idiotic.

Frodo didn't want to carry the Ring but chose to do the right thing. Harry didn't want to fight a war with a psychopath but did because it was the right thing. The Pevensie siblings didn't want to fight the White Witch and rule a country but did both because it was the right thing. Every hero in a proper story does the right thing. He or she becomes selfless and sacrifices his own happiness and well being to stand up against the evil and corruption.

In the trilogy instead we have Alina who had a responsibility and duty but unfortunately for Ravka and the Grisha she was not a responsible person but a girl that wanted to depend on a man. She didn't want to use her influence to protect her people but hide.

Apparently the "evil villain" understood the assignment better than the author ever did.

Alina never grew as a person or as a character. It was only Mal and Mal. If only he had stayed dead in R&R then the world would shine brighter. But no! The author brought him back and gave us an explanation with how that happened that I still don't understand because it doesn't make a goddamn sense.

I guess the easy explanation is: "I brought Mal back because Alina had to end up with him somehow. Deal with it."

And we just have to accept this (just as Alina did) whether we like it or not.

Well I don't.

Because I've met people like Mal and they're assholes. They want to be the strongest one in the relationship, they want their girl to look up to them and depend on them and when they make mistakes it's none of their fault.

Because I've met people like Alina that try hard to please their man while in the meantime they "crumble down" emotionally and feel insecure. They never shine with their own light but seek only the one that their toxic partner can give to them. Without it they're lost.

Because I've met couples like Malina. And it's never a happy relationship or has a happy ending.

And when you try to pass on this relationship in fiction as something healthy, then you really need to reconsider.

[viiioca]

Estelle de Laussienne

B A S I C S

Name Estelle de Laussienne (born Fauconnier)

Nicknames None in regular use; her adoptive brother uses "Essie" to get under her skin.

Age 24 (ARR) - 30 (Dawntrail)

Nameday 17th Sun of the 5th Astral Moon

Race Half Sea Wolf Roegadyn / Half Midlander Hyur

Gender Cis female

Orientation Bisexual

Profession Chirurgeon. She's a woman of many roles and skills, but only one professional license, though in another life -- say, in a non-WOL AU -- she might have wound up the Scions' "diplomatic advisor" (crisis manager and fixer).

P H Y S I C A L A S P E C T S

Hair Black; as of the end of Shadowbringers, salt-and-pepper with a shock of white in her bangs. Coarse curls are courtesy of her roegadyn heritage. She has never cut her hair ("long hair is a woman's glory" and all -- have you seen Halone's? You cannot convince me there's nothing in Halonic scripture about it) and mostly wears it pinned in complex updos.

Eyes A dark violet, inherited from her father.

Skin A light, rainy-day grey inherited largely from her mother, with her father's cool pink undertones.

Tattoos/scars Being a healer -- and a terrible patient -- Estelle has few scars of her own, as she takes care of her own injuries and prides herself in the sort of detailwork in her physicking that reduces or prevents scarring. Which means the ones she does have are from the wounds she was too incapacitated to heal herself, gnarly clusters of keloids and ragged hypertrophic slashes from effective but graceless emergency healing: sternum to hip from the fight with Elidibus at Ghimlyt; side to side across her belly from the fight with Zenos at the end of creation; and her oldest, a mottled burn scar around her left shoulder and collarbone from the dragon attack that took her parents. She keeps them glamoured when able and looks at them as little as possible.

F A M I L Y

Parents

Hermine Fauconnier Her roegadyn mother; the seneschal and right hand woman of House Laussienne, Hermine was in charge of its books, employees, and trade logistics, and her service in return won her family as stable, secure, and comfortable a lifestyle as a lowborn could wish for outside of the Church. Deceased.

Renaut Fauconnier Her hyuran father; a chirurgeon formerly of the Hospitaliers who transitioned into rural medicine as a traveling physician once he tired of the battlefield. Deceased.

Perette de Laussienne Her adoptive elezen mother; the head of House Laussienne and a shark in the waters of Ishgard's nobility who raised Estelle like she was her own daughter. For better or worse, Perette taught her much of what she knows. Deceased.

Siblings

Verain de Laussienne Estelle's adoptive brother. While they had a good relationship in their youth, a wedge formed not long into their teenage years when it became clear his mother's favor rested with a lowborn halfbreed. Still alive and currently head of House Laussienne, having been unceremoniously handed the reins when Estelle suddenly left Ishgard -- a fact that has done nothing to repair the rift between them.

Grandparents

None still living.

In-laws and Other

Over time, Estelle develops no shortage of family-like relations: Edmont, who regards her as a daughter; Alphinaud and Alisaie and Ryne, the little siblings she never had; the Scions, living together like a colony of stray cats. (And, though this is quite far in the future and something she would not want to think too much about even then, Lyna would technically be her daughter-in-law. The absolute dawning horror the first time Lyna calls her "grandmother" as a jest.)

Pets

Animals tend to like Estelle more than Estelle likes the concept of caring for an animal long-term, especially with how much she travels. The absolute closest she comes to owning a pet is spoiling the Rising Stones' resident ratcatchers.

S K I L L S

Abilities

Arcanima The cornerstone of her combat abilities and field "healing" (more like Preventative Medicine), which branches out into Allagan summoning as she spends the years between Heavensward and Dawntrail refining equations based on primal waveforms.

Medicine This includes everything in the typical Eorzean chirurgeon's skillset -- everything from general practice to surgery to autopsy is on the table (hah) -- as well as an alchemical background to synthesize and administer basic pharmacological treatments.

"Politics" The catch-all umbrella for her social skillset, Estelle relishes the networking, information gathering, and strategic maneuvering required to throw one's weight around in powerful circles.

Hobbies

Languages Though the Echo translates for her, it's still a rare and special skill regarded with suspicion in most corners of the world. Estelle enjoys picking up what she can of the local language in her travels to put people more at ease, especially as she wanders out to more rural locations.

Sketching/watercolors A skill picked up in a previous relationship, though her fondness for it far outlived her fondness for her lover. She finds it relaxing to draw and paint the sights in her travels, and she keeps extensive journals.

Cooking A domestic skill cultivated to a high level in the interest of being a "good wife" in her youth, turned into something of an obsession for learning new foods and techniques as she travels the world. Estelle delights in any occasion she has access to a stove and the opportunity to set a lively table.

Piano All young ladies of good breeding learn the arts during their education, and Estelle is no exception, though the piano is the only instrument that stuck. She enjoys playing when she finds the time, and a piano to actually play on.

"New skills" Estelle takes any opportunity to throw herself into doing something badly for the simple joy of trying something new. Most attempts to train for more physical skills like archery and swordplay fall under this category: things she'll likely never take seriously, but she enjoys using these moments to build new connections and relationships with her teachers.

T R A I T S

Most Positive Trait: Her friendliness. Estelle finds it natural to move into the lives of others and share their spaces, joys, grief, and problems; if she doesn't find success, it certainly isn't for a cold demeanor and lack of goodwill.

Most Negative Trait: Oh we've got a whole answer for this one. There is only so much friendliness can accomplish when Estelle does not accept the vulnerability of real connection.

L I K E S

Colors: Contrary to her severely black and mostly monochrome wardrobe, Estelle most enjoys dramatic, rich jewel tones and soft pastels.

Smells: The complex layers of an expensive, well-made perfume; fresh-cut jonquils; the chaos of food stalls in an open-air market; aspen woods in a crisp, fresh snow

Textures: Soft furs; the inner lining of a favorite pair of gloves; the smooth gloss of lacquered wood; the weighted feedback of ivory piano keys.

Drinks: A glass of well-aged dry red wine; coffee in the Ul'dahn style, unfiltered and highly sweetened, flavored with cardamom; Ishgardian tea, strong black leaves dressed with bergamot, steeped directly in hot milk and sweetened with buckwheat honey.

O T H E R D E T A I L S

Smokes: Yes, infrequently, and never socially; in times of high stress, she will smoke exactly one (1) cigarette when alone and thinking very deeply on something she wish she did not have to think deeply about, or when she needs to aggressively work over a problem in her mind. She's picky about her tobacco and prefers a Hannish clove-spiced blend. (Her case holds 20 cigarettes and the only time she's had to refill it because she's simply run out is during Endwalker.)

Drinks: Yes! All the time. I imagine Ishgard has a very robust drinking culture woven into most social rituals (alcohol features more prominently in Heavensward than nearly any other expansion except perhaps Endwalker) and Estelle is a very social creature. Of course there's an aperitif! And of course there is a glass or two of wine with dinner. And of course there must be a digestif. And of course there will be a nightcap as the evening winds down. She likely consumes more alcohol in a year than the rest of the Scions combined, and that includes that era where Thancred was getting trashed regularly to avoid coping with the Lahabrea situation. That said, she very rarely drinks alone, and almost never drinks with the intention to get inebriated.

Drugs: Nothing hard, but if someone hands her a bhang thandai during a festival in Radz-at-Han she's not going to turn it down.

Mount Issuance: For the same reasons Estelle doesn't keep a pet, she also doesn't keep a mount; she prefers to take carriages and ferries and airships, ride along with caravans, or rent chocobos. When she needs a pair of wings or to go somewhere she would feel guilty bringing a live animal, she relies on the sliver of his aether that Midgardsormr left with her to summon his form much the same way she might summon an egi.

Been Arrested: Estelle has spent most of her life being a law-abiding citizen. The amount of laws she's broken in the line of duty has spiked rather dramatically since joining the Scions, of course, as it turns out that subversive operations and overthrowing heads of state is illegal in those states, but good luck arresting her.

thank you for the tags @oneiroy, @ubejamjar, @ahollowgrave, and @idalenn!! i actually did a tag thing this time i did it i did the thing i was tagged to do

tagging……..@astralflows @menphinaswhitemage @archaiclumina @yloiseconeillants @rhotdornn @angelinecarax @fairygodpiggy @ilbers @mostlystarsandcandybars @caorann8 @morgana96 -- and anyone who hasn't been tagged yet!! i wanna read your lore