#please i spent an insane amount of time on this piece

[oceanic-sunsets]

and we kissed, as though nothing could fall (nothing could fall)

and the shame, was on the other side

[storiesofsvu]

Decadent Desires Ch 6

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, mentions of alcohol, sexually charged conversations, teasing/banter. Smut, sex toys, minor bondage, spanking. A guest star of Anthony DiNozzo! I didn't really want to bring in a whole THIRD fandom into this but it ended up working out really nicely and I can play around with it in future chapters too! It feels like it's been ages since I've updated this so clearly the last week was a long one lol. Remember how I said I wanted to be a chapter ahead from now on with my series? Yeah that quickly did not happen. LOL. I'm gonna try to keep up with it, and I promise y'all won't wait longer than a week between chapters, I just need to hunker down and write!

Working for Heather meant that you worked insane hours that could change at the drop of a hat, but it also meant that you could essentially make your own schedule whenever you wanted. You could do most of your job from home or a hotel, as long as you had Wi-Fi you were in the clear, you spent a lot of your time gallivanting around D.C to finish whatever tasks you needed to. Shuffling your schedule around constantly meant that you were more than given the liberty to a Thursday afternoon off and that is exactly why you were meandering down Wisconsin Avenue with Tony in tow. Some of your friends questioned why you always went shopping with him, but the truth was he knew style, understood expensive taste, always told the truth if something looked bad and the entire experience was more efficient. If you went out with your girlfriends on a shopping spree you got dragged into twelve stores you needed nothing from and had to wait while they tried on countless amounts of outfits. With Tony the most that would happen would you’d have some extra browsing time at L. Priori because he got distracted by the watches.

“You got some big White House party coming up or something?” He asked, taking a sip of the coffee you’d bought him earlier.

“Huh?” You glanced over your shoulder as you picked up the small bag, “no.”

“We’ve done jewels, we’ve done shoes,” he pushed the door open for you, holding it while you crossed through the entry way and back out onto the street, “you dropped off three dresses for alterations and looked through the catalogue of what’s coming in…”

“I just want to revamp my closet a little bit, make sure I’m prepared for summer, you know how many extra garden parties I end up at.”

“And your boss is okay with that amount of cleavage?” He asked with a smirk and you rolled your eyes, “I think you’re bullshitting me.”

“I got a little carried away doing spring cleaning and tossed half my closet.” You bluffed, “I work so much I forgot I actually wore the other shit and now need to replace it.” Veering off to the side your hand tugged open the door to Jaryam and Tony followed you inside.

“When’s your next date?” He asked with a grin.

“I never said anything about a date.”

“Then why did you just drag me into a lingerie store?”

“Oh please,” you scoffed, “I didn’t drag you anywhere, you love this shit. I just want some new pieces; you’ve got the right eye for colour and the masculine fetishistic imagination to tell me which ones I’ll look the best in.”

He chuckled darkly, not bothering to disagree with you as you made your way further into the shop, he was a pace behind you, fiddling with a price tag when he scoffed and you turned back to him with a raised brow, “I’ve heard you complain about the prices in Victoria’s Secret and that’s got nothing on this, a thong for a hundred and fifty dollars?”

“It’s… about the quality.” You shrugged, “thirty dollars for a scrap of fabric that falls apart in a month made in a sweatshop isn’t a good investment.” You picked up the pair that he was looking at, reading through the tag, “something hand stitched made with quality fabric that’s going to last? Worth it.”

“Hmm.” He replied, surveying you for a minute as you put the thong back on the rack, “you know, I noticed when you picked up the coffee that you used a black card…”

“You’re really working those sleuthing skills today, aren’t ya?” You teased back with a grin, moving onto a wall of lace bras.

“It’s not exactly a difficult mystery.” He smirked, following you, “fancy shoes, nice jewels, new clothes, expensive lingerie,” you turned back to face him, an unimpressed look on your face and he practically caged you into the wall, “who’s your daddy?”

“Ew, Tony, fuck off.” You groaned, shoving at his chest as he laughed, “coffee and meals can be turned into a write off. I used Heather’s card.”

“Bah! Fine, keep your secrets. I’ll just run your financials when I get back to the office.”

Now it was your turn to laugh, “they call you a very Special Agent DiNozzo?”

“Why yes, yes they do.” He smiled, getting a little smug about it and you shook your head at him.

“Then explain to me how running my financials would let you in on whose card I’m using.” You asked, watching as he opened his mouth to give you some witty response but he couldn’t find one, gaping for a minute before he let out a defeated huff and you tugged him in the other direction, “now c’mon, I know you have a good eye for lingerie.”

“Now that, I will not deny.” He replied with a smile and you did roll your eyes as he followed you deeper into the shop.

You combed through practically every shelf in the place, trying to figure out what kind of styles you were going to settle on before Tony started to share his opinions. He reminded you how good blue looked on you when you picked up a soft pink set and suggested the lace florals over lace butterflies. You were narrowing it down between a handful of choices and he was quick to intervene when he noticed you were eliminating all the variation.

“Wait,” he cut in, swiping the one you were trying to put back on the shelf, “keep that one. Get rid of this one.” He plucked the peach set from your collection, tossing it into the return pile.

“It’s cute!” You protested.

“Exactly. Everything you’re keeping is ‘cute’, you’re playing it too safe and I know that’s not you. The lilac one is the nicest, little hint of lace for a bonus, so get it.” He started flicking through the rack you had your favourites on, “keep the teal one for the crystals, plus it matches that pair of heels you bought. The rest of this batch can go but add these to your buying list.” He picked up a lacy black and red set that was mostly see through and included a garter belt, handing it off to you, and a gorgeous deep green set. “That’ll look great with your skin,” his brow furrowed for a second as he examined it, “wait it’s not your size, you’re what?” His eyes were suddenly on you and you groaned,

“Stop staring at my tits.” You stated dryly as he turned around, grabbing another one of the green set from the shelf.

“Thirty four C, right?”

“I don’t know whether I should be impressed or grossed out that you were able to figure that out.”

“They don’t call me Very Special Agent DiNozzo for nothing.” He grinned and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m going to go try these on.” You scooped up the remaining sets, “not for your viewing pleasure! Occupy yourself.”

You weren’t surprised in the least when all of Tony’s recommendations were right and you were happy to be leaving with a variety of options. Returning from the dressing room you found him near the till looking through accessories and he shot you a cocky grin as you placed all of his choices down on the counter. You shuffled the shopping bags in your hand over to the other one,

“Can you hold this?” You asked, handing him your purse as you pulled Emily’s card from within it, passing it off to the cashier. Once the purchase was completed and the cashier was wrapping up the lingerie, she placed the card down on the counter and out of the corner of your eye you saw Tony making a move for it, managing to swipe it up before he could get to it.

“Hey!” You swatted the back of his head and he grimaced.

“Ow. That was worse than Gibbs.” He muttered.

“You fuck around and you’ll find out.” You returned but he was too busy on his phone to really pay attention.

You took your purse back from him, tossing it over your shoulder as you thanked the clerk and added the bag of lingerie to the others with your shopping and the two of you made your way back onto the street. You jumped when Tony’s fingers prodded at your side, digging into your ribs.

“C’mon… let me know something, please.” He batted his eyes at you, “I just helped you pick lingerie; I deserve to know something. Doctor? Artist? App developer? Congressman?”

“Nope, nope, nope and hard nope.” You replied with a huff and he groaned so you finally turned back to him, stalling in your steps, “what I will tell you, is that she most definitely outranks NCIS, so you can officially drop it.”

“Ohoho… a new lady friend…” It was his turn to slow in his tracks, eyes lingering in the window of the next shop, “you need any special accessories for that?”

“Tony you’re insane if you think I’m taking you into a sex toy store.”

“Meh, doesn’t really matter since you’ve already covered that step.” He grinned and your brow furrowed.

“What?”

“Swiped your phone and went through your emails.” With a laugh he tossed the device back to you as you let out a gasp, “peach flavoured lube, nice. Nipple clamps? Kinky, didn’t realize you were into that kinda pain.” That earned him a hard punch on the arm, “but that double sided dildo with vibration? Now that sounds like a real party.”

“Anothony DiNozzo!” You scolded and he let out a small whine of a scoff, gesturing toward the sex store.

“I’m the perfect person to give sex toy recommendations, c’mon.” He protested and you sighed.

“Tony. You are a straight man. What could you possibly known about sex toys for me to use with another woman?”

“One of those wand things, Hibachi?”

“That’s Japanese barbecue, but nice try.”

“The wands!”

“You’re going for Hitachi.”

“Close enough!” He exclaimed, gesturing with his hands, “the big one’s better but I think they sell smaller ones too, more portable.” He waggled his eyebrows at you and you sighed.

“Think? Tony, pull your head outta your ass. Any self respecting person with a clit already owns one of those.”

“Really?” He smirked at you and you did your best not to groan.

“I’ve got three, a mini pink, a mini green and the big one, which yes, is far superior. Can we go now?”

“Fine.” He groaned, feigning annoyance, “you dragging me to a nail appointment next?”

“No, I was gonna buy you a late lunch.”

“You were? Or is your mommy dearest gonna buy lunch.” He exaggerated the word, nearly moaning as he said it and you immediately grimaced.

“Please don’t ever do that again.”

“Yup, that one felt wrong coming out. My bad, that’s on me.”

**

Emily turned down dessert service, asking for the cheque instead as she gave the server a soft smile, picking up her cocktail once again as she turned back to you. In turn, you finished your drink, placing the glass down on the table as you stood, your hand coming to squeeze at Emily’s thigh softly as your lips brushed against her cheek.

“Give me a five minute head start, I’ve got a surprise for you.” You scooped up your phone, shooting Emily a wink as you sauntered away from the table in the direction of the elevator.

Her eyes followed you through the entrance of the lounge, narrowing in on your ass as you pushed the elevator button and the sparks began to fly through her body. It hadn’t been a particularly long week, but it was very safe to say that you had been on her mind more often than not. Images of your naked body strewn across the bed floating into her brain, making her cheeks flush while she was torturously bored with paperwork. A too long tedious conference call lead to her zoning out, daydreaming all the things she wanted to do to you, the noises you made echoing through her mind. It was almost a given that night that she had a rather self soothing shower when she got home, pulling her laptop out when she finally crawled into bed to take a look at what fun things she could buy to occupy your time with in the future weekends.

Emily settled the bill, slowly draining the rest of her cocktail until she was certain she’d given you enough time to do whatever it was you had planned before she finally left the restaurant. The key card beeped against the lock and she stepped inside the suite, letting the door swing shut behind her before she made sure it was locked. She stepped out of her heels, dropping her purse on the side table in the entry way before rounding the bed into the suite, catching a glimpse of you laid out on the bed and her lips twitched up into a grin.

“Well that certainly is a welcome sight.”

“Yeah?” You asked, sitting up and shifting onto your knees, “you see something you like?”

“I see plenty I like.” She walked up to the foot of the bed as you crawled on your knees to greet her, your hands settling on her hips as one of hers curled around the back of your neck, pulling your lips to hers for a kiss.

Her tongue easily slipped into your mouth when you let out a satisfied groan, both of you relaxing into the kiss, lips dancing with grace against each other. Her hand slipped into your hair, pulling out the pins to let it fall loose around your shoulders, pulling at it lightly. When her teeth scraped against your lip you couldn’t help but moan, your hands drifting up her body as you slowly began to unbutton her shirt. She broke the kiss to help you untuck the fabric from her pants, letting it drop to the floor behind her before her fingers began to trace the lines of the teal lingerie set, floating over the gems decorating your chest.

“You like the crystals?” You asked, small grin on your lips and she nodded.

“They’re gorgeous.”

“They’re Swarovski.” You replied with a near smirk and she let out a huff of a laugh.

“You really went all in, hey?”

“Just wanted to make sure I looked nice and pretty for you.” You shrugged coyly and she chuckled, giving you a once over.

“Well you do.” She leant down, kissing you gently before her hands nudged at your shoulders, “you’re not the only one who brought something fun, lie back princess.”

“I noticed.” You replied, a gleam in your eye as you dropped into the pillows, an arm extending to the nightstand where you picked up a silk tie, “multifaceted, curious as to what your intentions are.”

“First…” Emily rounded the side of the bed, “I want to see what’s under that gorgeous bra.” She nodded at you and you sat up, hands flying behind you to unclip it, gently tossing it to the side, “good girl.” She plucked the fabric from your hands, picking up a longer one from the nightstand before kneeling on the bed. “Give me your hands.” She instructed and you held your hands out for her, wrists gently pressed together as she began to wind the fabric around them, “is this okay?”

“Absolutely.” You replied, looking up at her with darkening eyes as she tightened the silk.

“Do you have a word?”

“I’m fond of peach.”

“Perfect.” With a wicked grin she placed a gentle kiss on your wrist before guiding you to lie back with your arms over your head and she looped the shorter piece through your bonds, securing the other end to the golden bar of the headboard. “No surprises there.” She purred as she slid off the bed, letting out a satisfied hum as her eyes dragged over your body.

“Hm?” You raised a brow, watching as she moved back to a spare chair.

“Just how pretty you look tied up like that.” Emily tossed a grin over her shoulder, “but you are going to need to roll over for the second part of your treat.”

You nearly let out a whine when her hands came to her belt buckle, eager to be able to see both what was coming next and what she had under her clothes. Instead of risking it you decided to behave, rolling onto your stomach, your arms stretching over your head as you twisted it to the side, just barely able to see Emily under your arm. She had busied herself with getting rid of her clothing, a neat pile forming on the small bench next to her bag as she pulled out the strap, swiftly stepping into it and securing it around her hips. Your mouth was practically watering already and then she reached into her bag again, pulling out a crop with a cute little heart on the end and you had to hold back a moan.

Emily could see the way your body tensed, how your hips ground down into the bed as she reapproached it and a dark chuckle escaped her lips. Kneeling on the bed behind you her hand grasped your ankle, spreading your legs further apart and you did your best to arch your back, presenting yourself to her.

“Such obedience.” She murmured, letting the crop lightly trace up your inseam as you let out an airy breath.

Emily slowly trailed the crop up and down your legs, just the slightest hint of touch that she knew you were absolutely begging for in your head. She could see the way your body twitched whenever it got close to the heat between your legs and a wicked grin took over her lips. The crop finally came up over the swell of your ass, softly circling and tracing patterns on your skin and you finally let out a whine. Since this was the first time you’d actually made a louder noise, Emily figured this was the time to both give in and start to really tantalize you now. She raised the crop, swatting it down onto your ass and you let out a low moan.

“You like that?”

“Mmhmm.” You eagerly nodded into the pillows and the crop trailed across to the other cheek, repeating the circles before coming down harder on that side and your breath caught in your throat.

“Ohh…” Your fingers interlaced, squeezing tightly, “harder, please.”

“My little princess likes it rough.” Emily husked from behind you, “somehow I’m not that surprised.”

The crop came down on the same spot harder than the first before she flicked it over your other cheek, swatting just as hard, watching the way your body reacted, jolting at the touch before grinding your cunt down onto the bed. She brought the head of the crop between your legs, pushing the fabric of your panties into your pussy, rubbing the leather up and down your folds as you moaned, arching into the touch.

“Fuuckk…”

Emily chuckled darkly, bringing the crop up before hitting your ass with more force, smirking at the louder moans leaving your lips, the way you were pulling against your bonds, wishing your hands were free. The sounds of the spanks echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls as your moans grew louder and longer, every time the crop was brought down onto your body it grew from a tingle to a pleasurable burn. Emily continued to trail the leather across your skin, occasionally her hand gently rubbing across the spot to sooth the burn, little praises and coos leaving her lips. The tingles each time she spanked you began to build, growing together with each hit of the crop until there was a fire building right under your skin, whimpers and whines leaving your lips as you buried your face into the pillows. Every swat of the crop made your entire body shiver and you were nearly about to start begging for more when she moved it back between your legs.

“You really like this, hmm?” She asked, pressing it against your cunt again, “making such a big wet spot on these nice panties.” She rubbed it harder against you, watching the way your wetness continued to soak the fabric, “you know, I’d take them off and stuff them in your mouth if you didn’t make such pretty noises…”

You groaned softly, your hips rocking back toward the touch, a little whimper leaving your throat when the crop nearly rubbed against your clit. Emily hummed softly, lifting the crop up before bringing it back down, this time onto your pussy and you couldn’t help the noise that escaped you.

“Oh fuucck…” Your head buried deeper into the pillows, your eyes scrunching shut as you felt your pussy fluttering around nothing, your clit nearly pulsing already, juices smearing across your underwear.

Emily’s hands grasped at your hips, flipping you onto your back watching as your legs instinctively fell open for her to see the growing wet spot on your panties. She brought the crop back to your cunt, rubbing it harder against you as you started to whine, resulting in another swat that brought a gasp from your lips.

“You like this even more, don’t you princess?” She asked with a grin and you nodded, “you want your pussy spanked too?” Spank. “Think you can come from just this?” Spank.

“Fuck.” You groaned, “more, please.”

“Always such nice manners.” She praised, her fingers slipping into the waistband of your thong, tugging the fabric down your legs and tossing it behind her. Her hands soothed up your legs, spreading them even further apart from each other as her thumbs dared to brush the edges of your cunt. “Such a pretty pussy. God you’re just fucking drenched already.”

Emily picked the crop back up, rubbing it through your slick folds, pressing harder as she brought it to your clit.

“Please.” You whimpered and she chuckled softly.

The first hit was on the gentle side, her eyes tracing up your naked body, watching your face for any sign of discomfort but all she found was a look of sheer pleasure. Your eyes fluttering shut, mouth falling open as breathy moans escaped them, it was all she needed to bring the crop down even harder the next time.

“Fuck.” Your body twitched off the bed, cunt pulsing as more juices dribbled out of it.

“That’s it princess.” Spank. “You’re doing so good for me.” Spank.

“Oh god…” Your hands clutched at the silk ties as your body shivered, pleasure building higher and higher with each time the crop hit your cunt.

“I know you’re close.” Spank. “Just a few more.” Spank. “Pussy’s so wet.” Spank. “Let go for me.” Spank.

“Fuck!” You cried out, your back arching off the bed, pulling against the restraints as your orgasm shot through you, pussy pulsating around nothing as your juices dripped onto the bedspread.

“That’s it.” Emily cooed, the crop gently rubbing against your cunt, smearing your wetness all around it and your thighs. “So pretty when you come for me.”

“Please…” you whimpered, “need you.”

“You want more?” She asked, gently spanking your pussy again and you whined.

“No, please! Need your cock.” You were absolutely begging, pussy fluttering, feeling so entirely empty. Despite the powerful orgasm you needed to be filled, stretched around Emily to finally feel completely satisfied.

“So needy tonight.” Emily teased, dropping the crop to the side as she climbed over you, running the tip of the toy through your folds, “this what you want?”

“Mmhmm.” You nodded furiously, “please.”

“Alright.”

Emily didn’t hesitate, knowing you were absolutely drenched she sunk her cock fully into you until her hips met yours and you let out a very satisfied moan. She pulled back just enough to sneak her hand between your bodies, turning on the vibration on the base of the toy, just against her clit and a breathy sigh escaped her lips. She rolled her hips, pulling out until just the tip was left inside you and set a steady pace, fucking you thoroughly. Each thrust of her hips had your body twitching up off the bed, pulling against your restraints as you ached to touch her, pleasure shooting through your limbs.

“Fuck.” You groaned, “feels so good.”

Each thrust of her cock the head brushed right over your g-spot, pulling louder moans from you each time as your pussy began to clench down around her. You could feel your juices smearing across both of your bodies as she fucked deeper into you, picking up the pace as she knew you were getting close again.

“Are you going to come again for me angel?” She cooed, her hands gliding up your body to toy with your nipples, pinching them and rolling them in time with her thrusts.

“S-s’close.” You moaned, your hips rocking up off the bed to meet hers with each thrust.

Your hands tugged against the silk ties again, gasping when Emily’s lips wrapped around one of your nipples, sucking it into her mouth for her tongue to flick patterns across it. The double, nearly triple sensation if you counted the vibrations hitting your clit each time your bodies met was nearly too much, your pussy making almost more noise than the ones coming from your mouth. All you could do was whimper and whine, your head too fuzzy to get actual words to come out, the coil inside you got tighter and tighter until Emily’s teeth sunk into your chest and it burst through you.

“Fuck!”

Your body trembled, the tingles shooting all the way from the tips of your fingers to the tips of your toes as Emily continued to fuck you. Her eyes fluttering shut as she let out a low swear, now focused on chasing her own release. She sunk fully into you, pressing the vibrating part of the toy directly against her clit and it gave you the opportunity to roll your hips against hers, grinding the base harder onto her. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip as your eyes scrunched shut, another orgasm bursting through you from the sensation and Emily let out a soft cry.

“Oh god.” Her hand slipped between your bodies, switching the vibrations off before she sat up.

Emily panted slightly, attempting to catch her breath as she reached out, swiftly undoing the ties and your arms were finally free to drop to the bed. You let out a soft groan, flexing your hands before Emily caught them in hers, examining your wrists to make sure you hadn’t pulled too hard and hurt yourself. Once satisfied that you hadn’t she let them drop and shifted on her knees, slipping out of you and watching your juices dribble onto the bed.

“Mmm…” you sighed, your lips curving up into a grin.

“What?” She asked with a raised brow.

“That was hot.” You replied, “kinda wish you could come inside me though.”

“Well…” she leant over you, kissing you before nipping at your lower lip, “I’m sure that can be arranged for next time.”

_____________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @five-bi-five-mind @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @hotchs-bitch @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @hopedoesntknow @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx @momily @nilaues @borinxnovak @soverign @v3nusxsky @blackbird-brewster @mccdreamys-writes @l4yne @obsessedwjill @supercorpstan97 @asolitaryrose3 @honeyycatt @trauma-factory @lisqueen @mrs-prentiss @whitewinewithice @d33pd3sires-blog

[d1lfyhorrors]

‘Friendly’ Greeting — Cooper Adams x fem!reader

a/n: i wrote this for funsies! hope you enjoy :D i’m in no way an actual fic writer, i haven’t fully written any fic’s in YEARS.. i’ve started on a few and then gave up lol. so plz go easy on me but i would really appreciate feedback!! i also fear this might be a little self indulgent because girl folded so quick and barely put up a fight. also cooper is still a firefighter in this it just isn’t mentioned.

brief summary: Cooper and his daughter, Riley, are your neighbors that you’ve found yourself cozy with over time. There’s a lot more to him that you’re curious about and soon enough, you get the chance to see a side of him you’d think you’d never expect.

word count: 3,5k

WARNINGS: switch pov, FILTHY SMUT 18+, barely any plot this is just straight up smut, HEAVY DUBCON, afab/fem reader, use of word pussy for reader, dom!cooper, reader calls him ‘sir’ like twice, i feel like cooper adams is just a warning himself he’s a dark man LMAO, rachel is out of the picture cause FUCK RACHEL, unspecified age gap (nothing crazy), he breaks in your house sort of?, descriptions of violence and murder, brief alcohol mention, manipulation, unprotected piv (I DONT ENCOURAGE THIS THO), oral f and m, fingering, choking, hair pulling, face fucking, degradation AND praise, BREEDING KINK (sorry…), use of pet names, creampie. (let me know if i missed anything please!)

——

Cooper isn’t entirely sure what it is about you. Maybe it’s the way you’re always so cheerful and excited to see him along with his daughter Riley. The way you’re so kind and caring towards Riley. He knew how much she liked you and how much she looked up to you. Maybe it’s the way you affect him so deeply with just your presence alone. The way that he’s come to realize deep down inside, he longs for you.

As the time’s passed, his little obsession with you has grown. Dangerously. You consume his thoughts daily. You are now a temptation for him that’s becoming too strong to resist— he just knows that it’s inevitable before he gives in. He hungers for you, all of you. It’s a different kind of hunger compared to his usual— the hunger to kill. In his eyes, you’re an enticing woman he wants all to himself.

You’ve known Cooper since a few weeks after you first moved in next door. His daughter had taken a liking to you quickly that day you introduced yourself to them— from then on, you actually spent quite a good amount of time with them. Hanging out with her in her room, having dinner with her and Cooper, giving her rides whenever he couldn’t. You were like a big sister to her.

He told you about how her mother left them when she was younger. It broke your heart and made you feel for her greatly— moreover it made you feel obligated to be there for her in any way you can.

You find him to be quite a charming man. Certainly handsome, as well as the biggest gentleman. You’ve noticed with time, though, there’s still something a bit off about him— you struggle to put a finger on it. It’s what also causes you to want to get to know him even better. It’s almost like you were drawn to him in a way, but the unknown darkness also makes you hesitant and reluctant.

Cooper’s need to be in control at all times is starting to drive him insane… because of you. That dark, sinister part of him is coming to the forefront. He can’t wait anymore. Now is the time for him to act on it.

He knew it’d be a piece of cake for him to sneak in through your backdoor late at night, considering that’s one of his ‘alter egos’ specialty. He successfully makes it inside your kitchen silently, without alarming you. It only serves to excite him even more.

Today’s been a stressful day at work for you. To be fair, having a corporate office job is always stressful, but your mind was scattered like crazy. Everything has been weighing heavily on you recently and all you wanted to do is get home, take a nice hot shower then go to sleep. But once you got home from work and finished with your shower, you decided to relax on the couch with a bottle of wine.

You’re watching an old black & white horror movie on the TV, sprawled out on your couch, glass of wine in hand. Unbeknownst to you, Cooper stands right behind you in the doorway. He admires you for a bit before speaking up, startling the living hell out of you. “I’ve always liked this movie.”

You whip your head around and jump at the sound of his voice. It almost makes you drop your wine, but thankfully you’re able to save it, quickly setting it down on the coffee table. He smirks as you scramble off of the couch, wrapping your arms around yourself and standing.

It takes a second to realize it’s Cooper— it causes the slightest bit of relief. You let out a deep breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, preparing yourself to respond to his intrusion. “Cooper… how—… what are you doing here?”

His eyes darken as he takes a step closer to you, his heavy boots thudding against the hardwood floor. "Is that any way to greet your friendly neighbor?" he asks, his deep voice laced with a dangerous edge.

Cooper crosses his arms over his broad chest, the sleeves of his flannel shirt straining against his biceps. "I thought I'd stop by and say hello." He makes it sound as if this behavior is normal and familiar, even if it’s far from it. This is the first time he’s ever shown up unannounced.

He can surely hear how loud your heart pounds in your chest, towering over you so close that he can smell the faint scent of your fruity shampoo.

You get a whiff of his cologne and it ignites a warmth that pools in your lower belly. You swallow nervously, cheeks flaring up as you whisper softly. “Well, you could’ve given me a heads up before sneaking up on me.” The attempt to appear more composed fails but you can’t find it in yourself to form a better response.

His gaze rakes over your body, filled with a hunger that sends a shiver down your spine. Cooper licks his lips, voice rumbling. “I’ve been thinking about you. A lot… I can’t stop thinking about you, actually.”

There’s a sinister glint that flashes in his eyes that you catch. You’ve seen it before, in the depths of his orbs. It terrified and captivated you in equal measure.

Your lips part but he continues, taking a step closer to you. “About how sweet you’d taste. How soft your skin would feel under my fingertips. How good you’d look under me.”, his voice lowers dangerously with those last words.

”Cooper, stop...”, you stammer before he has the chance to say more. He backs you up against the wall now, placing a hand behind your head, caging you in.

His other hand comes up to grip your chin, tilting your face up towards his. The strength of his grip holds you in place and it makes a whimper bubble up in your throat.

"I want you, sweetheart. And I always get what I want.", he coos, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, his eyes blazing with possessiveness.

"So tell me, baby. Are you going to give yourself to me? Or do I have to take what's mine? ‘Cause we both know you want it too. Don’t try to hide it now.”

Cooper has you trembling against the hard surface of the wall, a mixture of fear and lust that’s intoxicating. There’s truth in his words— you know you should be trying to shove him off, running for the hills. You can’t bring yourself to do that when he’s right. There’s a part of you, darker and more curious, that craves this.

The side of you that’s conflicted and wary has words tumbling from your lips before you can stop them, “You’re scaring me…”

You instantly regret it when irritation flashes across his features, other hand sliding down to dig his fingers into your hip painfully.

“Scaring you?”, he repeats in a growl. Your eyes widen when his face hovers just inches from yours. “You have no idea what real fear is, I can promise you that.”

His lips brush against yours in a cruel mockery of a kiss, “I could snap your pretty little neck right now, carve your body up into little pieces and scatter them across the city. No one would ever know it was me.”

The words he uttered has your whole body tensing up. You’re completely helpless, powerless against him. His hand on your chin trails down to brush his fingers over the swell of your breast.

“But I won’t do that, because I wanna keep you. You’re… special. Different, and I want you to be mine in every way possible.”, his voice is softer now, filled with deep emotion.

The shift in his demeanor makes your body melt against him now, and you’re feeling shamefully turned on by him.

Tension aches between your thighs and the last sliver of restraint is gone. You’re so fucked. Any doubts in the world drift away with every passing second.

“Yes, sir. I understand, I’ll do whatever you want.”, you relented sheepishly. Cooper sensed the way you relaxed and gave in— it gave him a sick thrill that made his cock increasingly hard.

He hums in satisfaction then brings a hand up to tangle in your hair, yanking to expose your neck, making you gasp.

“Good girl.”, he purrs in your ear, his breath ghosting over your pulse point. You can feel his erection nudging your thigh and it makes you fucking quiver, a moan forcing it’s way past your lips when he grinds against you.

He dips down to drag his teeth over the hollow of your throat, “You’re learning your place already. Now, get on your knees and open that pretty mouth of yours for me to fuck.”

Cooper doesn’t give you a chance to even process it, he just tugs your head again and you're instantly dropping in front of him.

Your doe eyes peer up at him as your shaking hands reach out to graze over the bulge through the fabric of his jeans. The breath in your lungs stills the moment you unzip and tug them down his legs along with his boxers. His cock springs free and he gets a sense of pride at the sight of your reaction. Of course he’s massive.

He twitches in anticipation admiring how your lips part. “Take it in your hand first, baby. Stroke it like I know you’ve thought about.”, he commands with an assertiveness that has your panties soaked.

You let your delicate fingers wrap around the base of his cock and he lets out a pleased sigh. “Higher.”, he demands abruptly, his voice gruff. He needs to know just how well he’s broken you, just how much control he wholeheartedly has over you.

Eagerly complying your digits inch up his shaft, squeezing the base of the crown, your thumb gliding over the head. Cooper shudders, the sensation of your softness on him sending a jolt of pleasure through his core. “Now lick it. Taste me, sweetgirl.”, his voice drips with lust.

Your heart races, jaw falling open and he takes the opportunity to thrust himself towards your waiting lips. He groans at the feeling of your hot, wet tongue dragging over his slit, mouth soon after enveloping him. His hand tightens in your hair, shoving his cock in and out, taking your breath away.

“That’s it,” he praises through a pant. “Look at you, so fucking gorgeous like this for me. You were made to be on your knees for me, huh?” A muffled moan of agreement from you vibrates through him, drool gathering at the corners of your lips as he fucks your face with abandon.

“Relax that throat for me, let me in, baby,” he breathes, pulling you forward to force himself deeper.

Cooper lets out a guttural groan, savoring the feeling of your throat, your eyes watering as you choke and gag around him. “Fuck yes, take it like the good little cock slut you are just for me. All mine.”, he grits through his teeth, holding you there for a moment.

Then he pulls back, letting you catch your breath until he’s slamming back in, making your eyes roll back. Cooper sets a brutal pace, his balls slapping against your chin with each thrust.

Tears stream down your cheeks but you can’t deny how much you’re getting off on this. You’ve submitted yourself to him fully and you’re loving every bit of this now. His pleasure spurs you on, tongue swirling over his underside and taking every inch he gives you.

He recognizes the coil tightening in his gut but he refuses to cum so soon. Even though he’d gladly let you swallow it, right now he craves nothing more than to breed your pussy full of him.

The thought forces him to retreat from your mouth, otherwise he would have shot his load right then.

Cooper brings you back up to your feet, fixing himself and motioning for you to lead him to your bedroom. Once you’ve both made it inside he’s already shoving you down on the mattress, creaking under the weight as he straddles you.

You’ve barely spoken at all but you’re still rendered speechless, your brain already turned to mush and he’s not even really started yet. The realization of how much he affects you serves as fuel to the fire. Your body and soul have fallen into the depths of submission.

A wide smirk spreads on his face, hands gripping your wrists to pin them above your head. His voice practically drips with honey, “You’re gonna be such a delightful plaything. Aren’t you, sweetheart? C’mon, need to hear you say it.”

You whimper pathetically, nodding your head frantically and pleading, “I wanna be your plaything, Cooper. I… I wanna be yours— I am yours. P-Please, give me more.”

His lips capture yours in a bruising kiss, tongue darting out to slide along yours and you writhe beneath him. You’re desperate for him at this point, feeding off of how he dominates you. He moves to the skin of your neck, nipping and sucking, leaving marks to stake his claim.

Cooper chuckles at your reaction, “Mmm, such a responsive thing and I’ve barely begun. Need it bad, huh?,” he teasingly mocks. Your cheeks burn and all you can do is moan again, reveling in the sensation of his mouth on your neck.

He lets go of your wrists and removes himself, his hands wandering down to the waistband of your shorts. You lift your hips for him, allowing him to take them off with your panties. His eyes immediately fall on your exposed wetness, taking in the sight with a sharp breath.

In this moment he swears it’s the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. He licks his lips, “Naughty girl, look at how wet that pussy is for me… I promise I’ll make it feel so good.” With that, he descends between your thighs, grabbing them to spread them wide and throw them over his shoulders.

Cooper presses his tongue flat against your wetness, your body jolting and legs tightening around his head. Your back arches, the muscle flicking and swirling over your clit, driving you wild. It has you gasping for air, tingles of pleasure bursting through your insides.

You crave more and he knows it, but he needs to hear you. Needs to hear your begging. You give it to him in a whine, “Please, sir, I need more. I want it all please please—“ He cuts you off, granting your wish with a finger teasing your entrance.

He suckles your clit with his lips, gathering slick on the tip of his digit, probing your tight hole. You let him in, your hips bucking into his touch and attempting to get impossibly closer. More.

Cooper is lost in the task of pleasing you, worshiping you in ways he imagined. Never did he expect you to be so easy, but he’s getting off on all of this almost as much as killing. This is a close second.

That’ll probably change once he feels you around him. His cock throbs for it but he’s determined to make you cum on his tongue and fingers first. He’s watching you intently, fucking you with one finger before adding another.

The sound of your moans grow with volume and your walls clench around them, one of your hands darting to his hair. Your legs shake and you try to tell him you’re close but it just comes out as gibberish.

“I know, baby, c’mon. You already taste so good, come for me ‘n let me taste every bit of you.”, he mumbles against your flesh. That’s all it takes for you to shatter, convulsing and crying out at the euphoria that washes over you.

His movements never falter, sucking and draining every ounce of pleasure from you. As soon as he senses you coming down, he can’t wait anymore. Cooper gets off the bed long enough to rid himself of his clothes, back on top of you in no time.

He takes a moment to remove your shirt, finally revealing the other objects of his desires. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him against you and he takes the chance to knead one breast with a hand, his mouth attaching to the other.

You gasp at the delicious sensation, arching towards him. Cooper doesn’t waste anymore time, gripping his cock and rubbing the head against your slick folds. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard and deep you’ll feel me for days.”, he promises in a sultry murmur. You shiver.

Without further warning, he sinks inside your pussy in one smooth motion that makes you squeal. The stretch is overwhelming and it’s knocked the breath out of you. You’re so tight, he almost fucking whimpers at the way you choke his cock.

Both of his hands move to grip your hips, giving you a chance to adjust to his size before he eases out and slams back in full force. The motion has you clawing at the sheets, pleasure and pain a heady cocktail as your moans and cries echo through the room like music to his ears.

“Tell me who you belong to, baby. Tell me who owns this pretty body.”, he pants with eagerness. He really is fucking you so deep, pounding you with a relentless rhythm. The friction between your slick bodies create an erotic sound, spurring both of you on.

You struggle to gather the energy for a response but he quickly fixes that by wrapping one of his hands around your throat, applying pressure.

“You, Cooper, I… belong to you. You own me, Cooper, y–you feel so good inside me. I love your cock.”, you blubbered. Your rational mind can’t believe what’s coming out of your mouth but you don’t care anymore.

The words ring in his ears and they make him crack— he’s whimpering, his hips pumping away and your body shaking beneath him. Cooper feels like he’s tasted a glimpse of heaven and he never wants it to go away.

Fuck no, you’re never going anywhere. You said it yourself and Cooper Adams doesn’t take lightly to broken promises. He highly doubts that you’ll ever let yourself find out now with the way you’re clinging to him.

Before you know it he’s flipping you over, positioning you on all fours and entering from behind with a harsh thrust. A yelp flies past your lips as his hands grip your ass cheeks firmly, finding yourself meeting his movements with your hips.

Cooper’s grunts mix with your screams and you’re both teetering on the edge, he’s so close to claiming you in the way he yearns for most. He leans over to wrap his hand around your throat again, using the grip to raise you up so that your back is almost touching his chest.

“I’m gonna stuff this tight pussy full of my cum and you’re gonna take every drop, do you understand?” His cock slides impossibly deeper and you shake violently, tears of overstimulating pleasure and pain streaming down your cheeks.

You stammer a ‘Yes’, then he’s letting his other hand slither down your front to toy with your clit, edging you on closer. Cooper’s grip on your throat tighten and his pace remains unforgiving, chasing the peak dangling just out of reach.

“Oh yes please, Cooper, gonna come so hard. Want you to fill me up, I wanna feel it.”, you beg in a plea. He feels the spasming of your walls around his cock, your release crashing through you while simultaneously rattling through him.

He coos in your ear, “There we go, you feel so good cumming on my cock, baby. You scream so pretty for me… fuck, gonna give it to you now.”, he croaks before he pulses inside of you, his cum spurting out of his tip and filling your pussy. The warmth spreading makes you hum, thoroughly enjoying it.

You completely zone out for a beat there, not realizing he’s still gently moving in and out. Your lungs gasp for air, body quivering from the aftershocks. You don’t even try to speak right now. Only the sounds of his breathing paired with yours and the soft squelch of his cock in your pussy.

Cooper wishes he could just live right here, buried in your depths, taking and taking and taking from you over and over. Pumping load after load into you.

You are different from the others. All of this feels different with you, he’s never had a woman bend to his will so easily. You might just be his one true savior.

That’s until after you’ve cleaned up together and you suddenly question out of nowhere…

“Are you The Butcher?”

tagging: @amethystblackkchaos @rottenangel @hereforthehitsbaby @dirtylittlefairytales @gissellec1 @rplver @ratcatcher2world @one-of-thewalkingdead @habitabel @rosaleelovesdilfs @hibiskooks

[atlitudes]

I'm Cataloging Every Occurrence of the Piano in Malevolent in a Spreadsheet for Leitmotif Analysis. No, I'm Not Kidding.

As the title of this post reads, I've spent the last few weeks listening to every episode of Malevolent and logging every time the piano is heard (both within the story and as background score), to analyze the data for leitmotif/music based theory-crafting. I originally was planning on getting through the entire series before posting anything, but I am very quickly realizing that this is going to take me a while, and I start a new semester in two weeks, so there is a high likelihood I will not finish before I get too busy to chug through as many episodes a day as I am now. I'm on episode 16/44 and I've already logged 137 instances of piano music. I'm not even halfway done. And this is all I've been doing for the past multiple days. For this reason, I've decided to post the link to the spreadsheet before finishing.

If you're familiar with Malevolent, and just how much music is in it, you might be asking, "OP, are you utterly fucking insane?" And well, dear reader, the answer to that is probably yes, but while you might call it madness, I call it love. So, before getting into the meat of things, I wanted to explain why I even decided to do this. Spoilers ahead for Malevolent (obvious, but yeah). If you don't give a single shit about why I did this and want to get straight to the sheet, scroll to the bottom for the link.

So. About 2 weeks ago I finished my first listen-through of Malevolent. One thing about the most recent episodes struck me as very very significant: John and Arthur's "collective force" being titled as the Dies Irae.

Now, a full-bodied explanation of why I find this so important and the possible implications will come at a later date, but long story short, the Dies Irae is a very significant piece of musical literature-- it is, perhaps, the most commonly quoted leitmotif of the past 800 years, and it symbolizes death. So, understandably, the Themes of this kinda sent me down a spiral.

But the Dies Irae being mentioned in such a way also got me thinking: music is a pretty integral part of Malevolent. So, is the Dies Irae quoted anywhere in its soundtrack? I suddenly got very very excited at this prospect, particularly if it might be in Faroe's Song, because well... god that would hurt lol. I scoured the available songs on the bandcamp aaaaand... no luck (as far as I can tell). Regardless, even if the Dies Irae wasn't a part of the soundtrack, I became curious about what kind of leitmotifs were in the podcast, and what they might mean. And so, the spreadsheet was born.

I explain this in the User Guide part of the sheet (please read it before going through the rest btw), but I only track the piano parts of the podcast. The reason for this is two-fold:

First, score wise, piano is very easy for me to pick apart, and I don't see a lot of significance in the suspenseful string music for horror moments (though I don't deny there might be something to it, I simply won't be able to find it.) To me, the piano is also significantly more important than the strings because it's a notable part of the story-- Arthur and his relation to the instrument is a key part of the plot, and multiple of the piano compositions are made by him. For this reason, I found tracking the piano in the podcast worthwhile.

Second, I also don't touch any of the non-original radio tracks in the podcast (i.e. You Call It Madness (I Call It Love)) because this video by The Final Fantasmagorie already does an excellent job of covering them (please check it out!!), and I felt it would be redundant, especially considering the astronomical amount of ground I already have to cover. If these tracks start being featured as leitmotifs in the piano music then... well, I might change my mind, but so far, no dice.

If I noticed a non-piano piece of music (such as the wraith humming in Ep3) that I haven't found any analysis of whatsoever, I also noted it just so there was some record. Other than that, just piano tracks.

Explanations and disclaimers out of the way, here is the link to the spreadsheet. I might open it up to comments and/or editors at some point, but for now, it's just available to viewers. Once again, please read the disclaimer and user guide before the rest of the sheets.

Thanks for reading, I know this was a very long post, and I appreciate it if you've beared with me! Enjoy!

[neteyamsilly]

ok so i MAY have gone a little insane w the hair and perhaps her,,, entire self but erm,,, here is the oc i imagine for ur dad!jake fic !!

(no clue if u care abt this at all i just wanted to show you my girlypop)

UR JOKING. U HAE TO BE JOKING??!?!?!?!!? 😧😧😧

oh god oh mmmmy god OH Y GDO????? 9((98/)(&&/(&0???9998 HUHHHHH???????? LISTEN????? I??????? HELSOWSOP222 PLEASE I WANT YOU TO KNOW YOU ALMOST GOT MMME SHRIEKING OUTSIDE

WHAT THE HELL DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS MASTERPIECE IM. IM STILL IN SHOCK I CANT COMPREHEND AND UR SAYING "CARE ABOUT THIS AT ALL" IM ON MY WAY TO AN EARLY GRAVE FROM WHAT MY HEART DID WHEN I FIRST SAW THIS ART . NOT ONLY UR SO TALENTED BUT YOU SPENT TIME DRAWING THIS SCRUMTDILYICIOUS PIECE FOR MY RANDOM ASS FIC????!?!?! --- the braids the feathers the design please im GONE. IM GONE THE AMOUNT OF DETAILS HERE. I CANT I CANT 😨😨😨😨

the expression on her is just so on point you just KNOW she's making that face at jake PLEASE THE ENERGY ITS RADIATING IS LITERALLY THE CHARACTER I HAVE IN MIND. goodbye this will be the only thing i'll be thinking about for days

[unbizzarre]

Byerly Vorrutyer Character Designs

BYERLY VORRUTYER of Lois McMaster Bujold’s Vorkosigan Saga

Tried to go for a rapidly-aging prettyboy with the gothic heavy lidded eyes (idk how to describe the eyes I’m talking about) and a face that reads as male while having something slightly feminine about it. A face that smiles often but is composed, cool. Slightly wavy black hair that is either shortish, chin length, or slightly shorter than shoulder length (I haven’t decided yet 😅)

Designing faces is not my strong suit so I am working backwards from a few references I like. Will probably simplify artstyle, slightly lengthen hair and mix with a dash of Professor Venom from OK KO (for that little bit of haggard twink energy) to creat the final design.

References:

Wardrobe:

Materials: silk, velvet, ruffles lace, detailed embroidery, military piping, sheer cloth, fur — echoes of beautiful luxurious handmade traditional artisan clothing- but all a little to gaudy and cheaply produced - the barrayaran aristocrat version of fast fashion. Androgynous and galactic styles occasionally thrown in to add to mystique

-SHIRTS: silk shirts // shirts with poofy or frilly sleeves // patterned shirts // sheer shirts // velvet shirts // shirts that are tucked in the pants but so unbuttoned the entire chest exposed

- SUITS: velvet suits that absolutely reek of cologne // sleezy yet sharp barreyaran style black suits you might smoke a cigar or play pool in // pastel suit for daytime garden parties

WARDROBE ACCENTS

- bigass fur coat - maybe even almost a midieval king robe

- several offensively knock off fast fashionmilitary style jackets

- luxuriously patterned bathrobe

- see through shawl / wrap / night robe thing

- some gaudy galactic style outfits

- a few sexy or frilly dresses to piss off the family

- a few a casual / slightly more subdued blend of komarran, barrayaran and practical galactic clothing he only really wears at home (stuff he wears when he’s not preforming for an audience). maybe some sentimental pieces. What’s hidden beneath the camouflage.

- some bling: rings and earrings. A few broaches and cuff links probably not that many necklaces

EDIT: here are some reference collages I put together! Note that these references aren’t the exact items that he would have in his closet but rather there are aspects to each piece that I would want to incorporate into his design. Maybe it’s the cut of a sleeve, the silhouette of a coat, the way a robe drapes, the embroidery pattern on some fabric, or the general partied-too-hard vibes of a particular photo of a model.

Bastardized military jackets:

Neglige options / heavier nightfrobe options:

Bigass fur coat:

Shirts (please ignore the long blue scarf in the central image like wtf is that- the rest of the suit is nice tho):

Party vibes:

A lot of these aspects would then be mixed with my own head cannon for the rules/cuts of barreyaran mens clothing (I went to a library and spent a stupid insane amount of time looking through books with midieval, 1800s and 1900s men’s fashions and France, Russia, and Greece- + additional books of traditional folk clothings and textile patterns + several other books of historic military uniforms…. The process and choices were so long that I had to give up and just stop thinking about any sort of vorkosigan related character design for a couple months cuz my head hurt. - I will probably make another post at some point with more annotated collages and possibly some of my own drawings synthesizing the concepts, but uh not right now because I need a nap just thinking about trying to organize it all.)

If you’d like to see a little more of vorkosigan universe costume imaginings here’s my Pinterest board on it (kinda) https://pin.it/2rOoHsq it’s a extremely disorganized and from early hyperfixation days so none of my fashion history research stuff is there (cuz that was all physical book stuff) but uh, you can look at it if you want.

P.S.

If you have any feedback or critiques on the design so far, or ideas for how you think By should look, let me know! I love hearing other people’s interpretations 😊.

Photos of faces you think look like By, pictures of outfits that feel Byerly-ish, or direct quotes from the books about his demeanor or appearance are also welcome!

@starfishlikestoread it’s been approximately a thousand years but I’m finally getting around to that Byerly fanart! Hope you enjoy 😅

[devotioncrater]

ed/stede + edizzy + edward's bipolar

oh man the first three episodes of season 2 are. wow. okay. much to unpack. more fuel for my Edward Has Bipolar Theory.

DISCLAIMER: i am not a clinician, nor do i hold any degree in the psychology field. this meta is purely drawn from my own experience with diagnosed bipolar i, alongside what i've learnt in years of therapy as well as reading bipolar books/articles and peer-reviewed research papers. above all, this meta is for fun; please do not use this as a self-diagnostic.

this meta is broken up into sections:

the intro section

the bipolar section

the codependency section

the season 2 speculation section

The Intro Section

right away, the admittance of edward hating himself & feeling unloveable recontextualizes everything. his dynamic with stede & the crew, his dynamic with his own crew, his dynamic with izzy.

because like. hi hello?? when izzy says "you know me better than anyone else, and i daresay the same is true for me to you" it's just. a nail in the coffin. one of many nails. here's why.

it took an insane amount of vulnerability for edward to open himself up to stede in season 1. it took a lot out of him to even accept stede's love, and then believe it to be real. he believed that just for one moment in his scarred life, he was someone worth loving, baggage and all. as he himself was. for who he was. stede saw him and loved him and accepted him. if edward had been there to hear when lucius said to stede that the time edward spent with stede was the best it'll ever be for him, edward probably would've agreed.

which is. oh man. it would be a bit of a thin ice situation, wouldn't it? that's fucking bleak.

before we get into that, we need to dissect the dysfunction in the edizzy dynamic. i mean it's all tragic, all toxicated, especially with the downward spiral edward's on. so why examine it? what is there to examine?

the downward spiral began in season 1, became abated by stede & the crew, only to jumpstart at the end thanks in part to izzy. so we need to examine why, because edizzy's dysfunction plays a role in all of this mess.

it's undeniable izzy triggered edward, yes, but look a little further. edward's irritability, his emptiness, his substance abuse, the sudden shift in gears between his erratic moods. the crew walk on eggshells around him, because his behavior in season 2 so far is reckless, dangerous, and suicidal. there's pressurized speech patterns and racing thoughts present and they intermingle alongside low-energetic periods when he isolates. above all, he feels hopeless. overwhelmed by a sea of loneliness. fang starts the season off being unable to recognize him.

on the flipside, in season 1, he's on the tail-end of a low when we meet him. listless, bored, passively suicidal before he swings the other way. with stede & the crew he's up in the clouds. he's affable, he's happy, he's social. there's hope for change. he tries new things, laughs, even falls in love. he imagines a life for himself outside of piracy. there's impulsive actions such as the act of grace and impulsive thoughts like sailing to china. even when stede leaves him, edward grieves at a healthy-looking level. in episode 5, when edward's mood first shifts, fang doesn't recognize him in the elevated state.

the point is, edward feels things in the extreme. he lacks emotional regulation. "uncharacteristic" high highs and low lows.

how he reacted to izzy's trigger — "this is blackbeard" — is disproportionate until you piece together two puzzle pieces:

edward likely has bipolar + his core beliefs (self-loathing/feeling unloveable) throw oxygen into the flame of his relationships.

The Bipolar Section

to get on the same page here, let me provide a few Basic Oversimplified Definitions (here is a pdf of the DSM-5 for a scientific understanding, scroll to page 168. please do not use this PDF or meta as a self-diagnostic. contact a clinician/psychiatrist if you have questions or feel you need an evaluation):

bipolar disorder: a chronic, lifelong mood disorder characterized by manic highs and depressive lows. fluctuations in moods are extreme and, depending on subtype, can inhibit functionality. it can be managed today with medication and psychotherapy.

manic episode: lasting one week or more, this is the high highs. the mood is elevated or irritable. if severe, it can include psychosis/psychotic features such as hallucinations, paranoia, and/or delusions. mania belongs to subtype Bipolar I.

hypomanic episode: lasting at minimum four days straight, this is a lesser high than manic. it does not include psychosis/psychotic features, nor does it inhibit functionality. hypomania belongs to subtypes Bipolar I and Bipolar II.

depressive episode: lasting two weeks or more, this is the low lows. anhedonia and major depression are hallmarks of a depressive episode. depression belongs to all three subtypes of bipolar (the third subtype being cyclothymia).

mixed episode: best of both worlds. a person experiencing one may possess high levels of energy — such as pressurized speech — while simultaneously feeling overwhelmingly low and suicidal. a mood may flip from elated to hopeless on a dime.

euthymia: a mood state that is stable, without (hypo)mania or depression. it is a neutral baseline which occurs between episodes.

IMPORTANT NOTE: bipolar disorder is more complex than "just a mood swing". mood swings are situational, while bipolar presents even without situational factors. think about how, in season 2, edward has got his hair in a messy updo, cleans his cabin, swears off drinking & drugs, and is smiling. he explains to frenchie that he's decided to change after a rough night. then it cuts to a flashback of him the night before lying on the floor bawling his eyes out. the scene is played for laughs, however that is a textbook bipolar mood fluctuation. you go to bed hopeless and you wake up on top of the world, or vice versa. edward's situation hadn't changed in the hours between him crying and his conversation with frenchie.

(it can be argued that he thought izzy had died, but i don't think he believed frenchie had truly finished the job. why else had he grilled frenchie? he was sweating frenchie out, testing frenchie's loyalty. "you don't think i know the smell of my rotting former first mate?" edward knew izzy was alive the entire time).

like with almost every disorder, bipolar disorder presents itself differently in different people. in my experience, when i am in either a depressive or manic episode, two different outlooks may occur:

it becomes hard to remember what life was like on the other emotional end. (i.e. when manic, i tend to downplay my prior depressive episode).

i become hyperaware of the other emotional end, so i try to either get it to happen or prevent it from happening. (i.e. not wanting to become depressed, so i'll do XYZ).

i mention these outlooks because they're common. when you're in it, you're in it; when you're out, you're out. the first outlook is something edward's actions point to him experiencing, too, as evidenced in season 2 with his extreme suicidal behavior. he's in it in it.

the ups and downs in bipolar are difficult for the person struggling with the disorder. often, it feels uncontrollable. the symptoms — especially the ones which risk becoming severe like hopelessness or distractibility — are a challenge to cope with. during the high highs, your brain feels like it's frying. during the low lows, your brain feels like dense fog. therefore it's common for people to turn to substances to help alleviate what they're experiencing, and/or they partake on an impulsive whim. drastic life changes also may occur in an attempt to "fix" or "control" the disorder. severe episodes, when left untreated, may ruin or end people's lives. people with bipolar disorder are 15x more likely to commit suicide than the general population.

people who do not have bipolar themselves yet are close to someone with bipolar may also experience related difficulty. it may feel overwhelming to witness episodes occur with little to no understanding or tools on how to help. it may also feel stressful to try and gauge what state the other person is in. "walking on eggshells" is a common descriptor for the experience when the bipolar is unmanaged. that does not mean the person with bipolar disorder is automatically bad/abusive/harmful, it just means the disorder is a disorder. it interferes with daily functioning, causes distress, and impacts interpersonal relationships.

at the end of season 1, izzy hit edward where it hurts (edward's self-loathing, intertwined with the role of blackbeard) while edward was in what i believe to be a euthymic state (calm). now with their recontextualized relationship, we also see the underlying message of: "i serve blackbeard, he is my captain." -> "edward isn't good enough for my love".

izzy loves edward, but he's made it clear in season 1 it was for edward's blackbeard persona. or was it? you see, i don't believe that claim to be entirely true anymore, not after the first three episodes of season 2.

i believe a more accurate reading would be that in season 1, izzy was concerned, jealous, and vindictive. all in that order. the above underlying message weaponizes edward's separation of Edward and Blackbeard against edward. more on this later.

in season 2, izzy is just plain concerned ("we're worried for you"). he tries a different approach at managing edward's unstable mood. he goes for a softer attempt ("i have...love for you") because maybe, maybe it could work. it worked with stede. when it backfires, he ditches it and goes right back to bluntness ("the atmosphere's fucked!"). he also refuses to kill edward despite everything edward's put him through.

both seasons' motives were not for blackbeard, but for edward.

when we meet them in season 1, their relationship is dysfunctional at best. their baseline dynamic before stede is best depicted during episode 4.

in the model ship scene, edward's excited about stede's stuff, restlessly moving, unable to focus, appearing happy even though he's a hair-trigger away from irritability. he purposefully avoids or dismisses izzy's concerns about dying. he feels bored and trapped ("is this all there is?"), then feels frustration over feeling trapped, citing that he's blackbeard and blackbeard shouldn't feel trapped.

later in the episode, izzy frustratingly points out that edward's moods are "increasingly erratic" and something that izzy himself has had to manage. izzy also states that he's followed edward's every whim for years, and smoothed over their crew for him. edward, again dismissive, says "sounds stressful, izzy". izzy says it is but he felt honored to do it all for blackbeard, who is the greatest sailor he's ever known. this ties into their codependency, which i'll go over later on.

at this point in time, "edward" and "blackbeard" are synonymous, the names are just different titles reserved for different settings. edward himself doesn't see a distinction until stede — a person he respects — consistently treats him like Edward and not like Blackbeard. edward's identity to Blackbeard separates because he opens himself up to the possibility that Edward is someone worth knowing. Blackbeard, once a healthy coping mechanism created to survive in the pirating world, had soured somewhere along the way into an unhealthy coping mechanism. it became more of a cage than a home.

but to izzy, "blackbeard" is a good thing to be because it's an accomplishment of edward's. they built their whole careers and lives around it. when izzy says he's honored to sail with blackbeard, the greatest sailor out there, he says it to try and bring edward back to himself. it's his botched attempt at grounding/helping edward. if edward can be reminded of how great he is, reinforced by his accomplishments under the name blackbeard, maybe he'll snap out of his funk. if edward values izzy, loves izzy how izzy thinks edward does, he'd see the weight behind the compliment. izzy doesn't sail for just anybody.

it's botched entirely because any time edward tries to voice how "blackbeard" really makes him feel, izzy dismisses/minimizes/mocks it. he isn't supportive to edward because he feels threatened in two parts: that edward finds stede fascinating, and that edward is making a drastic life change for both of them based on yet another mood whim.

to izzy, edward becoming Edward and ditching Blackbeard would mean izzy's lost control of the situation, which means izzy's lost control of edward, which means no one will have control of edward. not even edward himself. this is yet another facet of izzy's codependency.

side note: speaking of names, in the calico jack episode, we know "ed" is a nickname edward doesn't allow people to call him. the only two people who call him "ed" are stede and izzy.

so that begs the question: why did izzy call edward "eddy" in season 2? where the hell does that nickname come from? why does edward use it on himself when he was struggling in purgatory?

based on these two conversations in episode 4, we can glean both sides of the situation. on one side is edward, who is struggling mentally and whose work is deteriorating because of it. on the other side is izzy, who is equal parts concerned about edward and frustrated at him because he isn't functioning as well as he used to, leaving izzy to clean up his messes. since this has been a years-long tension point, they are both at the end of their ropes. about to snap.

that is how we meet them.

from then on, edward begins falling for stede, and his mood shifts. he begins functioning better. stede is genuinely good for him. stede, with his different view on life, provides emotional balance and radical acceptance and a general softness that edward's been missing. he is supportive, he is kind, and he treats edward like edward isn't broken.

but stede is not accustomed to pirate life or its reality. he's naive to the point of foolish. foolish to the point of fatality. and izzy sees those flaw points right away. it's a red flag to him because how can edward — passively suicidal edward — be trusted to not take advantage of stede's naivety and steer them all into a doomed situation?

edward's relationship with stede is also where izzy's jealousy kicks into gear, clouds his judgement.

i mean, shit, wouldn't anyone feel slighted? if you devote your life to a man, stick with him through thick & thin, feel responsible for both of your lives, go above and beyond, worry over his wellbeing, put him before yourself....just for him to run off with a wannabe pirate.

a wannabe pirate who has only known your man for a fraction of the time you and your man have been together. his weeks compared to your years. yet somehow he gets your man's good side, gets the love you desperately want.

of course izzy's seething. wouldn't anyone?

it makes sense for izzy to sell edward and stede out to the british navy. he's spiteful, vindictive. bet there's a bit of hurt pride to it, too. it's fucked! it's a terrible thing to do!

his motive here boils down to, once again, keeping edward alive. cleaning up what he perceives to be another mess. sell stede out, keep edward where he can see him. izzy hates spanish jackie's, he hates the navy, he doesn't enjoy any of it. this is his hail mary, his last ditch effort.

of course it backfires. royally. no one expected edward to call for an act of grace. to sign away his life. izzy tries to stop him, but edward goes where stede goes. and soon after that, edward returns without stede.

and soon after that, the situation deteriorates. edward's launched into a severe mixed episode, triggered by the compounded stress of stede leaving and izzy's rejection of Edward. pressurized speech, emptiness, irritability, suicidal behavior, increased goal-directed activity...he ping-pongs between mania and severe depression. this is more than a break-up.

edward struggles with emotional impermanence. when stede's right in front of him, kissing him, edward feels secure that stede loves him. but when stede doesn't meet him at the dock? Stede Never Loved Me.

another example: izzy. when izzy obeys edward's orders, edward feels secure that izzy loves him. but when izzy speaks up or disagrees? Izzy Never Loved Me.

"he was your friend," jim tells edward, in reference to edward's awful treatment of izzy. but edward, at this intersection of a severe mixed episode + emotional impermanence, can't see that.

he burns his bridges left and right. destroys everything because he's lashing out in pain and he doesn't think he deserves anything good. Blackbeard? sure, he'll be Blackbeard. Blackbeard is all he'll ever be anyways. a killer, a pirate, a crazy captain who does too much rhino horn.

edward hates himself so fiercely that he only finds relief during the storm, right before he believes he's going to die. "finally."

The Codependency Section

edward's relationship with izzy was always going to end in destruction.

they both love each other, we have canon confirmation of this. "i have...love for you" and "i loved you best i could".

edward's confession is critical here, because he did love izzy as best as he could. there exist moments between them that shine light into possible happier times. the way edward talks to izzy to placate him in season 1 when izzy packs a dinghy, even if manipulative at the time, requires intimate knowledge on what izzy would be receptive to. david jenkins mentioned that it was izzy who helped doll edward up for the season 1 ball, an offscreen act of intimacy. edward tries unsuccessfully to connect with izzy over stede's model ship and the clouds. the casual way edward says "i had a dream about you last night."

"best i could." if edward hated himself less, he could have loved izzy more. if he believed he was deserving of love, he could have accepted the fact izzy loves him.

so they both love each other, but love is not enough to combat self-hate. it just isn't. the only opponent to self-hate is self-compassion.

self-compassion is a process you have to choose for yourself. you must work on it yourself, hopefully with the aid of an external support system. self-compassion is separate from self-love and other forms of love because, oftentimes, people who operate under the core belief of Being Unloveable also operate under an assumption that love is conditional. "i'm not enough" / "i'll never be enough" / "i don't deserve love" / "i'm too much". it's unrealistic for someone to jump headfirst into healing when that healing is programmed with restrictions. we are our own worst critic. so to practice self-compassion is to soothe that inner, hater critic until we heal ourselves enough to get to a place where we can practice unconditional love on the neglected self.

the conditional love aspect is one that is modeled. edward grew up in an abusive household. abusers hold their victims out on a string of conditions. furthermore, his mother rejected his interest in fine things by saying that it's not "for people like us". it makes sense for edward to internalize an "i'm not [rich/nice/good/etc] enough" message, thereby shutting himself out.

he continues to shut himself out in the aftermath of killing his alcoholic father. he doesn't tell anyone about the traumatic event — an oscillation into "i'm too much" — until he opens up to stede.

so here you have an unloveable boy, the victim of domestic violence and the killer of his own father, going into the chaotic world of pirating. a world — put so eloquently by calico jack in season 1 — where everyone fucks each other over. where trust is a prized, rare currency.

and somewhere along the way, he and izzy find each other. and they stick together for years.

both edward and izzy bottle their emotions up and then blow up on each other. it's so completely different to how stede & the revenge crew operate. it's years of miscommunication and mutual resentment between them, caused in part due to their pirate enviornment. their pattern is hot and cold. reactive.

izzy smooths over things with the crew -> edward is dismissive of izzy -> izzy blows up on edward and resigns -> edward convinces izzy to stay -> edward begins falling for stede -> izzy and stede fight over edward's heart -> izzy gets exiled for losing, edward says nothing -> izzy goes vindictive mode and sells edward/stede out to the navy -> edward hates izzy's guts -> edward comes back without stede, depressed -> izzy smooths over things with the crew -> edward is dismissive of izzy -> izzy blows up on edward and triggers him -> edward convinces izzy to stay through violence

it's that one friend who keeps returning to their shitty partner — on again/off again —, only here they both are the shitty partner.

the thing about unhealthy relationships is that they provide a layer of comfort. it's known territory. which is why, when an unhealthy relationship morphs into a codependent one, it is incredibly difficult to break out of them.

codependency definition: excessive emotional or psychological reliance on a partner, typically one who requires support on account of an illness or addiction.

like conditional love, codependency is learned/modeled inside of a dysfunctional family setting.

it works a bit like an ouroboros in that it's an infinite loop. the codependent partner compulsively takes care of their struggling partner in the hopes they get better. this role of "caretaker" makes them feel needed/wanted, ergo filling their own low self-esteem void. however, all the rescuing does is enable the struggling partner further into self-destruction.

sound familiar?

izzy is edward's caretaker. izzy is codependent.

important note: no one feels good inside of a codependent relationship. there may be positive periods, yes, but codependency is primarily stressful for both parties involved.

in order to blossom, codependency relies on low self-esteem.

we know edward oscillates with his self-esteem, but we don't talk about how low izzy's self-esteem is.

izzy doesn't have an identity outside of edward, with the exception of being one of the best swordsmen in the pirating world. of course, this exception is taken from him when edward cuts his toes off.

izzy is high-strung with a compulsive need for control. things must be done when he orders them to, to the high standards he creates. do not question his authority. this compulsion is exasperated by edward's uncontrollable mood shifts.

izzy rolls with the punches, metaphorically and literally. he shuts down attempts at comfort, evidenced by his knee jerk reaction when fang hugs him in season 2. "i'm fine. unhand me. unhand me!" he doesn't allow himself to fully break down and cry. the tears only appear in this scene, and when edward attempts to get izzy to kill him.

loyal to a fault, izzy threatens to leave, goes to leave, but never leaves. he gets casted out, so he devises a plan to return instead of, i don't know, creating a new life for himself. even when edward maims him, he stays.

so is this loyalty? or is this a belief that this is what he deserves? or maybe it's loyalty born from the belief that this is all he's deserving of.

a hit dog will holler, and boy does izzy holler when questioned. about his role, about himself, about who he is to edward.

so who is izzy without edward?

"you know me better than anyone else and i daresay the same applies with me to you." is an insane thing to say because izzy does know edward, but only the version of edward he stitched his skin to. the unstable, erratic version that needs help, and who he subconsciously sabotages with enablement.

and edward does know izzy better than anyone else because izzy's consumed by him.

if edward could not accept izzy's love in a direct form, then the roles izzy inhabits are his only outlet. Caretaker, Punching Bag, First Mate. 50 ways to say I Love You and none of them are healthy.

they both are violent with each other, drag each other down, but can't quit even when they know that they function better separated. codependency is an addiction, and like an addiction, the only way for this to end was in rockbottom or death.

The S2 Speculation Section

going back to the very top, here's why i say this thing with ed/stede is on thin ice right now: without edward working on his self-compassion, their relationship runs the risk of devolving into yet another unhealthy dynamic.

stede has decent self-esteem, an identity outside of edward, so i don't think they'll ever become codependent. stede also doesn't try to fix or enable edward. again, stede is genuinely good for edward.

i think the Mer!Stede scene was amazing, vital in balancing the heavy topic of suicide/death with the overarching comedy genre of the show. love saves lives, without love the world is bleak. who are we as humans without connection?

that being said, i personally want to see edward heal before jumping into a full-blown romantic/sexual relationship with stede. he deserves to choose himself, nurture Edward, and figure out how to manage his moods. especially since his last relationship with izzy was so tumultuous.

speaking of izzy, i also want to see izzy find himself and heal, too. he needs to learn how to let go. i'm hoping he'll build up his self-esteem in his own way, doing something he's good at (maybe as a sword-fighting instructor?).

either way, i trust the direction this show will go in. they've done well so far in their depictions of mental health and the impact of mental health. it'll be interesting to see the rest unfold.

[happypopcornprincess]

Call It What You Want || Chapter 3

Note: The story is set somewhere in 2018, pre covid, before Yei won the world champion. A lot of Oyei, Yak and Cher's backstory has been my own creation. Also some new characters are also purely fictional.

Please do not repost or reupload this story as your own.

Series Masterlist

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SIX months Later

“Keep going, keep going!” Yei held down Yak’s legs as he struggled with the sit ups.

“P’Yei…” Yak groaned in defeat and laid down on the gym mat.

Getting Yak out of depression had been quite a task. He had lost a lot of weight, and his eating habits were uneven. Yei would have sent him to a therapist if he had the finances, but right now, he bought Yak at the gym, hoping the physical activity and post-workout meals would jumpstart his recovery.

“Oi Yak!” Yei slapped his leg to make him get up, but that stubborn kid would not give in, “Don’t you want abs for senior year! Stop whining and do another set!”

“Five-minute break. Pleaseeeee?” Yak stretched out his words, clearly on the verge of dozing off.

“P’Yak.” Cher entered the gym right when Yak was getting ready to give Yei a piece of his mind.

“Oh, Cher.” he left Yak splayed out in the middle of the gym to go talk to the new manager of his gym, none other than Cher.

Cher had been a godsend. With his help, Yei transformed the dusty warehouse into Phadetseuk Gym, a Muay Thai training centre. Cher poured a significant amount of money into the project, and his faith in Yei didn't stop there. He also pushed Yei to start renovations on the house they were living in. Together, they'd already modernized the bedrooms and the kitchen. Yei vowed to repay every cent, but it was a little unnerving how much Cher believed in him. It was almost as if Cher trusted Yei more than Yei trusted himself.

Yei hired some of his struggling friends as trainers, and after only a few months of the opening of their gym, they now have twelve clients, the first one being Cher himself.

Cher was a quick learner. Though skinny, Cher possessed raw strength – a valuable asset in Muay Thai. His days were split: mornings dedicated to Muay Thai training, and afternoons spent managing and promoting the gym's growth.

Cher proved to be a natural. He grasped the fundamentals of Muay Thai in a surprisingly short time. Despite his thin frame, Cher possessed raw strength, a valuable asset in boxing.

Most importantly, Yei witnessed a blossoming confidence in Cher; a brighter glint in his eyes after training for self-defense. When before he would always wear trousers and long sleeves even though it was forty degrees outside, he has now started wearing shorts with some kind of graphic tees or bold coloured shirts. Honestly, they fit his personality way better.

“I have both good news and bad news.” He said, smiling.

“Okay.” Yei listened, folding his hands.

“So, good news”, Cher jumped in excitement, “You qualified for the audition round for world championships!” Yei’s jaw was on the floor hearing this, “I had sent some clips of you fighting and training in the gym and had to write a lot of emails to consider you as a candidate, and they just emailed me back last night! You’re in!” He held Yai’s shoulders and shook him, laughing.

“Oh my god Cher!” Yai laughed out loud, punching the air.

“Now…” Cher took a step forward, his face now serious, “The bad news.”

Yai calmed down, and looked at him.

“The tournament is in three weeks.”

“What!”

“It will be the qualifying match. Three rounds. First knockout decides the winner. No rematch.” Cher sighed.

“Insanity!” Earth, one of Yei’s trainers, yelled loudly from the boxing ring, “Yei will have to start training as soon as possible dude!”

Yei sighed, looking down at his hands. He had been in touch with all the techniques and moves while training Cher and the others, but it was nothing compared to actually training for a boxing match.

Cher tapped his shoulder, “Don’t you worry P’Yei, we’ll help you get that world championship trophy.” He smiled, giving him a fist bump, “su su na, P’Yei!” (Thai - Good Luck, P'Yei)

His eyes crinkled with joy, his smile so intoxicating that Yei laughed too.

“Sure Cher. Let’s get going.” He followed Cher inside to find Yak sleeping soundly on the gym floor. He groaned in frustration; his brother had some superpower to fall asleep literally anywhere.

===

It was the morning of Cher’s first day at Muay Thai training. The early morning sky was still changing colors, and the tangent smell of rubber hanging in the air from the freshly unwrapped gym equipment.

He climbed into the ring, facing Yei across the canvas. Yak, still half-asleep in the corner, mumbled something inaudible. Yei cracked his knuckles, a familiar pre-training ritual. "Alright, Cher," he said, hands on his hips. "Show me your fighting stance."

Cher balled his fists, instinctively raising them to shield his face. Stepping closer, Yei gently reached for Cher's wrists, intending to adjust his posture. But Cher, startled, jerked back, his heart hammering in his chest.

Yei paused, a flicker of understanding crossing his features. "It's okay," he said, taking a step back and lowering his own hands. "Look at me." He demonstrated the stance, his movements slow and deliberate, allowing Cher to observe and absorb the proper form.

Cher smiled to himself remembering his first day at the gym as he wrapped up his work at the gym office. He worked best late at night, hours designing banners and promotional posters for the gym. Yak would occasionally stumble in, sleep in his eyes still but eager to help. They would spend hours talking about everything. Cher never opposed Yak’s presence, even taking him on market trips wen they were free from work. It pained Cher to see such a gentle kid struggling through life.

Yei had confided in him once about Yak's downward spiral after their mother's passing. How he didn’t speak or eat for days, even when their father left, he said nothing. Yei would have to force him to eat food for days. “He was such a happy kid.” Yai once told him, “He is happy when he’s with you. I’m glad he has you as a friend.”

Cher noticed that Yei have a habit of thinking about everyone else before himself. He rarely spoke of his own struggles.

He cherished every moment he shared with Yei. During Cher's initial training days, his aversion to physical contact was understandable. Yet, Yei was patient, never forcing anything. He treated Cher with gentle respect, and knew he needed time to rebuild his comfort zone.

He was a kind man; he was struggling himself but was never late to pay his employees or help them. He loved Yak more like his son than a brother, he would do anything for him. Cher vividly recalled a night when Yak burned with a raging fever. Yei remained glued to his side until his temperature settled down until Cher had to force him to sleep, promising to stay with Yak.

A sudden jolt pulled Cher back to reality. He glanced down at the steaming parcel in his hands – Tom Yum Goong, Yei's favorite. Tomorrow marked the beginning of Yei’s rigorous training and diet, Cher wished to give this to him as a good luck token for the match. He went through the backyard to the house and knocked on the door just to find it open.

It’s midnight, why is the door open?

Yak would have been sleeping by now, he pushed through the front door and entered the living room. A faint shuffling sound emerged from Yei's room.

“P’yei?” he called out.

No answer. He called out again, but there was no answer. Cher noticed the door was ajar. Pushing it open, he was met with a sight that sent his heart plummeting.

Yei stood mere feet away, locked in a passionate kiss with another man. Both were stripped down to their boxers, the intimacy raw and undeniable.

“Cher!” Yai was frozen in place as he looked at Cher in shock. The other man, startled, turned, confusion clouding his features. His neck was littered with hickeys. “I… Cher…” but Cher didn’t let Yai finish, only thrusting the parcel at him.

He stepped back, “Sorry... I’ll go now.”

Taking long strides out of the house, Cher didn’t hear Yai calling him again.

He rushed to the office, taking a seat on the floor. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to banish the image of Yei and the other man, but it burned behind his eyelids. A confusing mix of sadness and anger welled up inside him. He knew, logically, that Yei being gay shouldn't bother him. In fact, a part of him had always suspected it.

He shouldn't feel a pang of jealousy at the intimacy, the possessiveness of the other man's hands on Yei's waist, or the kiss itself. He shouldn't be this devastated at the thought of Yei being with someone else.

So why did it hurt so much?

The question echoed in the emptiness of his mind, a nagging ache that only intensified with each passing moment.

===

Yei stared at the man sleeping next to him, the faint morning sunlight poured in through the open window illuminating his bare back. Memories of the previous night were hazy… A casual conversation at the bar, fueled by cheap drinks and loneliness, had spiraled into a one-night stand. The details were hazy, the man's name forgotten.

The only thing clear was the look on Cher's face when he'd burst into the room – a mix of shock and something deeper, something Yei couldn't decipher.

The man had dozed off after the second round, but sleep didn’t find Yei.

Shame coiled in his gut, tightening with each passing second. He hadn't planned for his carefully guarded secret to be so brutally exposed. Yet, relief snuck in his chest. The burden of hiding felt lighter now.

Then came the bigger question, a truth he'd long buried beneath himself. Something not even the closest to him knew.

Should he tell Cher he's gay? The question hung heavy as he took a cold shower that did nothing to dull his anxiety.

"He knows now," Yei muttered, the words hollow against the tiled walls. Yet, a part of him craved a genuine conversation, a chance to explain the unspoken attraction towards Cher, the yearning he'd suppressed for the sake of their friendship and Yak's well-being.

With a heavy sigh, Yei pulled on his training clothes. He couldn't afford to crumble. He had a responsibility to Yak, to the gym, and ultimately, to himself. Now, more than ever, he needed the discipline of Muay Thai, the focus it demanded.

He would do what he’s always done; face the situation head on.

---/---/---

"Cher." Yai lingered outside the office door, the silence stretching uncomfortably.

"P'Yei." Cher stood in his training gear, the loose tank top clinging to his lean frame. His expression was unreadable, a mix of emotions swirling behind his eyes.

"About last night..." Yai began, his voice tentative. But before he could finish, Cher raised a hand.

"I should apologize for barging in," Cher said, his voice surprisingly calm. He passed by him to enter the main area where the punching bags were.

"No, what I mean is..." Yai stammered, frustration lacing his tone.

Why wasn't this easier?

"It's okay, P'Yei. Don't worry about it," Cher interjected, his gaze shifting to the punching bags. With a practiced motion, he pulled on his gloves, the rhythmic snap of velcro a stark contrast to the turmoil within. He faced the bags, his back to Yei, before asking, "Does Yak know?"

Yei let out a shaky breath, the question echoing his own fear. "No."

Cher nodded, a flicker of understanding crossing his features. "You can tell him when you're ready," he said softly. "And I'm sure, when you do... he'll accept you for who you are." He turned back to Yei, a faint smile tugging at his lips. The dim ceiling lights cast a halo around him, highlighting the mess of his dark brown hair.

"If he doesn't," Cher added with a playful glint in his eye, "I'll kick his ass."

Yei burst out laughing. Cher's attempt at humour, despite the seriousness of the situation, warmed him from the inside.

"Come on! Don't you have training after this?" Cher nudged Yei playfully. "I have work to do!" He gestured for Yei to follow, his eyes lingering on Yei for a beat longer than necessary.

Cher chuckled, a genuine sound that banished the last vestiges of awkwardness. Together, they walked towards the heart of the gym, a silent understanding hanging between them.

He knew, with a certainty that surprised him, that he would follow Cher anywhere.

to be continued...

a/n: okay so I kinda missed this in the beginning but I imagined the side characters of this story as gmmtv actors and I totally forgot to mention them before.

Earth being played by... well Earth Pirapat [Him as Chief Phupa lives in my mind rent free I'm sorry] The unnamed character who hooked up with Yei played by Tay Tawan [idk I just thought Thor and him would look cute together hehe]

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Series Masterlist

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Taglist - @seoulmates98 @randomia-in-wonderland @fandomforever369 @nitorem

Comment down to be added to the taglist.

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More Thai BL Fanfics

Tangled Fates: The Sign Series Fanfic A Phaya x Tharn fic about their past life as Sapuna and Wansarut.

[xohyeona]

LET THERE BE LIGHT : pt i

SUMMARY. ❛❛ i think i need some. i lied, i don't think i─ know i need some. i need some light, some sweet sunshine, to feel alright─ please, let there be light! ❜❜ ─ raye, genesis

EST. NOVEMBER 2018

NOTES. fun fact: this is my third time posting this bc tumblr seems to be praying on my downfall and if this doesn’t show up in tags i will cry but anyway!! the amount of writers block i got from this is insane but it’s here. there’s not really a plot, it’s more like an attempt of a predebut hyeona character study

hyeona never imagined what her adult life would be like. as a child, she never had long term dreams or goals or aspirations. she did what she wanted in the moment, but she never thought about her future.

her father wanted her to work in his business. the day he took her in, they spent the day in his office. at the time, her three year old mind couldn’t comprehend the complexity of what he did. but it makes her sixteen year old self want to throw up.

she tells him early on the she was no interest in taking over his business. he can leave that to nam jaekyung, his second hand of some sorts. instead she enrolls into hanlim multi arts school. it was an impulsive decision, really. but she enjoys music and she has a specialty in writing so, why not?

hyeona’s been writing a lot. ever since she was seven, she’d build the habit of writing her thoughts down in a notebook with a lock on it. it was the only place her secrets couldn’t be revealed. every single thought that came up would be transferred onto a piece of paper in red ink. only red. red is her favorite color.

the older she became, the more she began to write about more than just her personal feelings. she was very analytical in nature. since she was young, she subconsciously made note of every minor detail on tv show, in a room, on someone else. she noticed everything.

though, tonight was a different story. as hyeona sat at her desk with her laptop illumining her bedroom, her mind seemed blank. it felt like she’d been staring at her screen for hours. well, she has. meanwhile, she had already finished her lyrical assignment about two hours ago. her talent for writing translated to lyricism pretty well. there was nothing else for her to do.

it felt like there was more to be said, but she had nothing else to say.

her thoughts, or lack thereof, are interrupted by her phone buzzing. she’s glad only the vibration was on or else she wouldn’t been scared shitless. her eyes glance to the device resting on her desk, and sees the contact number calling to be her father. she can’t help but glare at her phone, as if her eyes would burn holes into his screen and straight into his face.

she opts for letting it ring until it ends, feeling relief when the buzzing stops and he doesn’t call again. she decides to send him a text, knowing that completely ghosting would lead to him sending someone to her penthouse for an unofficial wellness check.

busy right now, talk later.

if it was up to her, she would never talk to him again. she doesn’t hate him, he just… freaks her out.

feeling the effects of sitting in once place for too long, hyeona finally decides to stand, stretching her arms in the process. the sixteen year old sighs before making her way to the kitchen. she rummages through her freezer before pulling out a tub of cookie dough ice cream.

nothing like ice cream to drown out her sorrows. it makes her feel better, sitting alone on her balcony and stuffing her face in favorite ice cream. it’s pretty chilly outside, considering it’s 8pm, and eating ice cream outside doesn’t really help, but the breeze adds on the peace hyeona feels in the moment.

in the comfort of ice cream and observing the city life from below, it’s about 50 feet, her mind seems to clear. the street lights and the lights of convenience stores mesmerize her eyes. she has a sonder, watching thousands of people walk in and out of her sight. her face doesn’t change as she watches, remaining dull and somber, but she observes and her mind flows.

and it helps, in the moment.

[nitecourtfairytail]

A Mama Archeron crack theory/headcanon

Before I begin this insane, potentially rambling post, I’d like to thank the wonderful @elainsweetcobalt. You are such an amazing friend to me, a beautiful soul and overall good, strong person. (Just in case you haven’t heard that in a while.) Te amo 💕

She and I have spent many nights discussing ridiculous plot points, what we wished would happen, what we hope for and (obviously) crack theories in the ACoTaR/SJM universe, and because of that I was able to flesh out some of this thanks to her help.

Now to the meat and potatoes:

What if Mama Archeron is the Mother?

My theory/head canon is that Mama Archeron (The Mother) was a truly immortal being. She roamed the earth, not just Prythian or the Continent, because why not?, She’s immortal, and at some point she met Papa Archeron. She used her own connections to help him in his travels and made him the Prince of Merchants with her knowledge of other cultures.

Either a bond or simply true love blossomed between them. She didn’t want to be without him and he her. So she gave up her immortality-her magic. It went into the cauldron and she put it in (what she thought) was safe keeping.

The Mother had never actually raised her creations;She never birthed them. So when Nesta was born, although she did love her child, she was unsure of how to show it. (I want to stop for a sec and say I’m not trying to excuse the abuse and neglect the sisters endured by their mother, just putting together a narrative for a wild theory. Please don’t come at me) since she didn’t know how to show it, Mother chose to teach her daughter how to persevere in high society to try and ensure Nesta wouldn’t be disrespected or taken advantage of.

When Elain was born, she favored Papa Archeron. While Mother loved both of her daughters, she unintentionally gave Elain a gentler life because she looked more like the man she gave up her magic for. She then put more responsibility on Nesta to protect her sister.

Then came Feyre, followed shortly after by Mother’s illness. She hadn’t expected to fall ill-hadn’t considered it. She used to be immortal! It never occurred to her that humans sometimes died of illness, or that she could be one of them. She did, however, see Feyre’s resilience and determination, even at a young age.

Despite having given up her magic, a tiny amount still remained. I believe this is what allowed the batboys to feel their bonds with the sisters before they were turned. When Mother was on her deathbed, she was struck with a vision-her first and only since she became human-of Feyre (who was saying her goodbyes at the time).

Flashes of Feyre’s life: poverty, hunting, falling for Tamlin, her trials, Rhysand, Velaris, becoming High Lady. But most importantly, Mother saw her youngest daughter mated and in love, holding her own child, and with her sisters and their own loves beside her-laughing and smiling.

Mother asked her to take care of the family because she saw that Feyre would lead them to a better life despite the hardships that would come after her death.

Fast forward to the sisters being kidnapped and thrown in the cauldron. Elain went first. The cauldron held her immortality and magic, therefore a piece of their mother was inside it. When Elain was pulled into the water the magic recognized her. Not because it knew her as The Mother’s child, but because she favored Papa Archeron.

The cauldron/The Mother’s magic gifted her everything it could, because it was reminded of the man she loved.

When Nesta went in, not only was Nesta already angry (rightfully so) but she was resentful and wanted revenge, so without remorse or a second thought, Nesta stole from it. HOWEVER, what she stole was actually a piece of The Mother’s soul (possibly the last bit of magic that left her when she succumbed to her illness as a mortal.)

When Nesta saved Feyre and Nyx, that piece of soul was released-NOT Nesta’s power as we thought-and Mama Archeron saved her daughter and grandson to ensure the vision she had on her deathbed came true. She was who Cassian saw.

Please take all of this with a HEAPING pile of salt. It’s just a crazy theory that was fun to think up and piece together, and I’m still not sure it entirely finished.

[moonjxsung]

hi it’s 🪲 again!!

RIGHT?! like i went from exclusively dating women (literally god’s gift to earth) to dating HIS CRUSTY ASS and THATS WHAT YOU DO?! i was so mad lmfao but i was also so fucking devastated because that was my best friend. i seriously spiraled to insanity after that because he was just such a big piece of me and i would always ran to him for support whenever my ptsd was triggered or anything like that, he just understood me in a way i never experienced before. so i was more hurt by the loss of my best friend more than anything. but i knew i couldn’t stand for the disrespect so i cut him off.

he did try to apologize, and i kinda gave him a chance as a friend because again, i missed the fuck out of my best friend. but i found out later on that he was telling the girl he cheated on me with every personal thing i’d told him. like i’m talking sexual abuse and parental abuse growing up (i probs won’t get into it because it’s heavy stuff and i don’t wanna trigger anybody) but yeah. like who does that?? i got dehydrated from crying so hard after that.

then summer came and i went back home and i shit you not, not a single minute of it was spent sober. i fucked around with boys and girls alike and i got myself pregnant, got an abortion, continued fucking around after that to ignore my grief of having to lose my child because i was in no way capable of taking care of it. and i was just a hot mess honestly.

i’m with someone new now, and she’s honestly so amazing. she’s so gentle and it’s like she’s developed this sixth sense where she just knows when i’m having a hard time. we’ve been together for a year now.

and now that i’m in a better place, i just look back and am shocked at the amount of red flags i ignored. like one time i was complaining about how my thighs really hurt after we had sex the night before and he deadass said: “that’s because you’re always so tense, i can feel you pushing me but i’m stronger” LIKE SIR???

but yeah men suck. point blank period.

also the guy who hurt you like that what the hell?? how dare this guy play you like that??? it’s on SIGHT ISTG i’m sorry he traumatized you like that, but you’re doing amazing and please please don’t let this asshole keep you from falling in love again, i promise they’re not all like that. ugh i hate men so so much and you deserve the world, star, i really mean it and i just know you’ll get someone that’ll make you happy and that won’t make you sick like that again 🥹❤️‍🩹💞

!!! I’m so happy to hear you’ve found someone who treats you better!!!! You deserve it so so so much bestie 🥹🫶 I’m just still baffled at somebody pining so hard after you and then doing all that shit to hurt you like HUH 😭 and divulging in all your private information to the other girl?? HELLO????? What a fucking dunce 🤢 it’s crazy when you look back and realize the red flags you ignored! I was letting every single thing slide and in hindsight it’s like yeah whyyyy would this have ended any other way? I hope you’re healing from everything you went through and I hope your new partner treats you the way you deserve (or else it’s on sight😤) I love you and my inbox is always open if you ever want to vent or just talk about how great things are going from here 🫶

I hope my ex dies simply put LMAO I don’t even try to date anymore or entertain anybody I just don’t think the stress of it is for me honestly 😭 I think writing and just existing by myself is fulfilling enough 🫶🩷 sending you all the love!!!!

[blayzebryte]

My 50th birthday came and went without fanfare. For months leading up to it I had a goal weight in mind and a dress I had wanted to fit into. As the day drew closer my weight kept creeping up. And now I am the biggest I’ve been in six years! Doh!

Disappointing, maybe - but hardly surprising. I mean, this is what happens every birthday, especially the ‘milestone’ ones. Instead of despairing, I thought about what had happened and contrasted it with what I was doing a couple of years ago when I felt a lot more in control of my body.

One thing I learned long ago is that aiming for a goal weight or size by a particular date simply does not work for me. I have since found what DOES work - so why the fuck didn’t I do that this time? Isn’t insanity doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result? Oh well, back to piecing together my success formula from a few years back…

For a start, I would involve my body in what is going on. She has her own wisdom, which is extremely valuable, but she can’t grasp abstract concepts like sizes, weights, and dates. She responds best when I communicate with her as if she were a child or a dog.

She’s actually a bit like a traumatised rescue dog. Specifically a Labrador. She is eager to please, but needs to be dealt with kindly, patiently and with clear and achievable instructions.

“Lose x number of kilos by a certain date” is not really an actionable instruction. What does it really even mean? I started seeing results when I focused on the smaller daily activities that would inevitably lead to my improved physical and mental state, instead of a numeric goal.

My goal was no longer ‘lose a large amount of weight’ and became ‘stick to my diet TODAY’. Do some exercise TODAY. Don’t snack for the next few hours. They were goals I could achieve in one day - rather than it taking months and months.

I do tend to get quite impatient and dejected when I don’t see results, so I would cling to these micro-goals and really praise myself up for achieving them. It sounds a bit silly, but it worked. I would tell myself how proud I was, how well I was going, yay for you, look at you go etc. And all I’ve done is go for a walk around the block or not eat a biscuit, but the constant internal encouragement kept me going much more effectively than self-criticism.

I don’t respond well to criticism from others or myself. It makes me want to just roll into a ball. Scaring myself didn’t work either. I was plenty scared of diabetes and getting cancer again - but being scared just makes me want to eat more, so it’s counter-productive.

And I spent a few years of being encouraging to myself and praising every little step forward, and I lost a huge amount of fat, gained an impressive amount of muscle and I felt fantastic, so maybe it wasn’t so silly.

When I got complacent and stopped doing it, and went back to just being critical and judgey and demanding with my body - that’s when the weight piled on, my energy levels plummeted and I lost enthusiasm for exercise and lifting.

There were a a lot of other factors too that led to my derailment - I’ll discuss them in other posts. It’s interesting to go back and piece together what was working for me before and try to reconstruct my former success.

I used to have regular chats with my Labrador body. “Hey, thanks for letting me know you’re hungry. It’s really important that you tell me things, so I want to listen to you. I hear you say you’re hungry, but you know, we did have a good lunch, and we’re going to have a lovely dinner at 6pm and I think you’ll probably be fine til then. I know it’s not what you’re used to, not being able to snack, but let’s think about something else until dinner.”

I realised today that I haven’t had a chat with my body in a while. It did used to help a lot. It’s been a while, so here’s a letter for her:

Hey girl, how are you doing? I mean, really, how are you? I haven’t asked you for a while, I’ve been frustrated at you, and I’m sorry. I know you haven’t been well, and it’s not your fault.

You were trying to recover from the flu, and it took longer than we thought it would, but you’re trying your best. You’ve been really tired, and I’m sorry I wasn’t more understanding.

I’m wanting you to feel your best, so I’ve been going to the naturopath and taking some herbs and stuff he gave me, and you seem to be responding quite well to them, so thank you for that. I can see you’re trying to get going again and I appreciate it. I’m going to do what I can to help you, and together we’ll get back to feeling good.

I want to start building some muscle again. Do you remember how great it felt to have a bit of muscle and to have some strength? It was great wasn’t it? I want that again. We’ve gotten quite weak and flabby and it doesn’t feel good. We’re putting this virus behind us, and it’s time to start on the weights again. We don’t have to go crazy, but we’ll keep it consistent okay? A few times a week, with plenty of rest. And I’ll make sure I’m eating enough protein so you won’t be sore.

I’d like it if you could burn up some of the fat we’ve accumulated in the last few months. As you build up some muscles, you can use some of that stored fat when you need extra energy. I’d really like it if you could do that.

Thank you for hanging in there through all this, and thank you for recovering from this illness, and thank you for functioning well and being here for me. I’m sorry I haven’t spoken to you for a while, and I’m sorry I was demanding and impatient. Let’s be friends again. I’ve got some fun activities planned for us, and some great meals that you’re gonna love.

[dirt-grub]

I really miss playing nickelodeon scene-it it was like my favorite board game as a kid but i would absolutely smoke anyone playing with me if i tried to dig it up on ebay today so it wouldnt be as fun 

[enchantestuff]

miscommunication - charles leclerc

in which your Pierres little sister and reap the consequences after an eventful night in Monaco with his best friend

I think I'm going to make this into a series, like 3 more parts maybe??

part two

GIF NOT MINE!!!

warnings: smut, my failed attempt at angst (I tried), language, em yeah

3k words (I have no idea how that happened) 

You had known Charles for years, which wasn't particularly surprising considering you were Pierres little sister.

When you were little you envied their friendship, constantly trying to insert yourself in their games and conversations. You had lost count of the amount of times they slammed a door in your face, demanding you to leave them alone. You hadn’t realised how annoying you were being as you followed them around everywhere, even if Pierre had scolded you for it each day.

When you were a teenager, Pierre purposely kept Charles away from you, telling him that if he even looked in your direction he wouldn't hesitate to end their friendship. You, of course, had no idea of the threat not that it mattered as you didn't paid any attention to the infamous duo during those few years, living in your own little world full of clothes , friends and different boys.

Now, however, you were an adult and all you wanted to do was support your brother throughout his career. In recent years you had gone to as many races as you physically could, but of course you had your own job and unfortunately didn’t have the time to attend any race this season.

Pierre was disappointed, he loved having you there to support him, but he understood that you had your own life and never placed any blame on you. After years of the two of you constantly ignoring each other and bickering, you had finally begun to act like siblings and all he wanted to do was make up for lost time.

You had thankfully gotten three weeks off work - well they weren’t necessarily weeks off as you still had to do your job, but your boss insisted that there was no need for you to trek to the office everyday when you were perfectly capable of doing the work at home on your laptop. The timing couldn't have been better with the triple header just around the corner, it almost seemed like a miracle and you were gonna enjoy every minute of it.

You grinned as you texted your brother.

Any spare tickets to the race :)

He replied almost immediately.

You're kidding, which one?

All of them?

Your texting was cut off by Pierres contact photo appearing on your phone. You answered instantly only to hear Pierre screaming through your speakers, he also slipped in a few delighted curse words before finally letting you talk.

“My boss gave me the next three weeks off so I’m going to go support my favourite brother” you grinned.

“Your only brother” he remarked and you could practically hear him rolling his eyes.

You spent the next few hours catching up and retelling pointless stories. You had gone to sleep with a lazy smile on your face and  woke up the next morning to a text from Pierre, telling you that he had organized your passes for the three weekends as well as the flights, all you had to do was find a hotel. He slipped in the name of the hotel that he was staying at, and to your luck there was still room available. Now all that was left to do was wait.

You grinned giddy as you stepped off the plane and walked toward the baggage collection area, excited to finally get back to watching races in person. You rubbed your eyes in surprise when you spotted your brother waiting for you. “Pierre?” you screamed delightly, running up to him and pushing his body into a bone crushing hug. It felt like you hadn’t seen him in forever even if it was only a few months.

“Bonjour,” he laughed as he hugged you back.

“I thought you were busy all day today” you exclaimed once you pulled away from him.

He sheepishly shrugged at you with a lazy grin on his face. “I may have lied, are you ready to go?”

You nodded your head at him and for the first time in a long time your mind drifted towards your brother's best friend, Charles, who you hadn’t spoken to since an eventful night in Monaco a few months ago.

You cursed yourself as you thought back to that very moment.

Charles was having a party at his lovely home, you can't remember now what you were celebrating but everyone was ecstatic. You could hear the music from across the street and you knew before you even entered the house that it was going to be a night to remember.

The moment you stepped foot inside you were surrounded by multiple drunk people, all with large grins and hooded eyes plastered on them and you laughed as almost everyone stumbled around the house.

You spotted your brother in the middle of the room dancing with a pretty blonde, he had a goofy smile on his face and you knew from that sight of him alone that he was wasted. You were the only sober person there, at least that's what you thought until Charles had made his way to you with two cups in his hand, alcohol for you and water for him.

“I thought you were celebrating,” you mused as you took a sip of the dark liquor.

“Someone needs to keep these drunk idiots in check,” he joked.

“Well in that case” you said as you handed your drink to a stranger and took a sip of his water instead. You laughed at the bewildered look he threw your way before continuing, “I'm not going to let you tackle this party alone.” The smile that formed on Charles was genuine and your breath hitched in your throat at the sight.

You surprisingly enjoyed yourself the whole night, maybe that was because you knew everyone there, but most likely it was because you spent the whole night with Charles.

A few hours into the party he turned to you asking to dance, you didn't even hesitate to say yes, nerves surrounded you immediately and they only got worse when his hands dipped dangerously low on your hips. Your eyes automatically searched for Pierre and you left out a sigh of relief when you couldn't find him anywhere.

The thought of getting caught fueled both you and Charles, so when he spun you around to face him neither of you hesitated to connect your lips. You considered yourself lucky that everyone around you was too drunk to notice your heated make out and used it to your advantage. You pulled him even closer to you, moaning in his ear when he grabbed your bum and giggling at the whimper he let out.

You felt dizzy. The fact that you were both sober made your first kiss even more real.

You were anxious when he asked you if you wanted to go somewhere more private but agreed nevertheless, hoping that maybe he had wanted you for as long as you had wanted him.

He had tenderly kissed you again once he closed the door behind him.

“God, you have no idea how long i've waited to do this,” he moaned in your ear and although you knew that was just something people said in the heat of the moment, you let yourself believe it. You let yourself believe every single word that left his lips and got even more attached to the moment.

You revealed a piece of yourself to him that night, not only a physical part, but a part of your heart as you admitted your deepest secrets to him. “Fuck, Charles, I’ve always wanted you,” you moaned when he gently placed you on the bed.

You attached yourself to the kisses he placed all over your body, you paid attention to every bit of affection that he showed you, never once wanting him to stop. When he positioned himself next to you and asked if you were sure you told him there was nothing you've ever been more sure about.

You had both simultaneously moaned when he entered you, laughing at each other afterwards, which made your heart flutter. He was Charles, your brothers best friend and yet sex with him felt so natural.

He placed a tender kiss to your chest before he started moving and you couldn't help but hold him close to you, he didn't seem to mind however as he nested his head in the crook of your neck, letting you hear all the soft gasps and grunts that left his mouth.

You arched your back in pleasure when he reached the deepest parts inside you, your toes curled and your eyes rolled back and all you could think was God why didn't we do this sooner?

“Don't stop, please Charles, don't stop” you moaned in his ear, and if you weren't in a completely different world you would have noticed the shiver than ran down his entire body at your words.

“Trust me, mon amour, i never want to stop”

You weren't even aware of the moans the left your lips until Charles had grabbed your chin and looked at you with desperation written all over his face, “Merde, Y/N, i want more than anything to make this moment last but If you keep making those pretty little sounds you're gonna make me cum”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words “Shut me up then”

And he did, he grunted as he reconnected your lips, swallowing your moans and letting out his own in the process. From the kissing, to Charles’ moans and the rolling of his hips it didn't take you long to release the knot in your stomach.

You regretted it now, thinking back on it, it had completely ruined your friendship with Charles. Your daily silly texts to each other had ceased to exist, your weekly facetime calls had died and a piece of you had broken.

You didn’t expect any less, he was your brother's best friend and even though you always found him insanely attractive, you knew deep down he would have found your little crush on him weird. You always had the suspicion that he saw you as a little sister, and the way he completely ignored you after your hookup had proven them to be true.

You couldn't hate him, or even place the blame of your failed friendship on him as you also went out of your way to ignore him, something that you really regretted but couldn’t change.

“You alright?” Pierre asked as he grabbed your suitcase in his hand.

“Yeah sorry i - i don't know what happened to me there,” you choked out, walking alongside Pierre to his car.

“It's free practice tomorrow, you coming?” he asked once you were both sitting comfortably in his car.

“Yeah, of course” you nodded as you watched the tall buildings pass by in the window.

“Everyones misses you, you know?” he quickly glanced over at you while he drove, wondering what the hell you were thinking so hard about.

“Yep” you sighed, “Me too,” but all you could think about was the Ferrari driver and how awkward it would be to see him again

You had shut yourself in your hotel room for the rest of the night, the flight and overly long check in had taken all the remaining energy out of you and all you wanted to do was curl into the hotel bed and sleep for as long as you possibly could. So that's what you did, until Pierre rang your phone, telling you that he was leaving for free practice in half an hour, wondering if you needed lift, which of course you did you had mumbled to him while scrabbling out of the bed and running to your bathroom to take the quickest shower of your life.

You had somehow gotten ready in time and before you knew it you were walking around the paddock with Pierre next to you, basking in the glorious sun.

Pierre whistled in excitement when he spotted Charles walking out of the Ferrari motorhome. The brunette quickly turned at the sound, a smile forming on his face when he spotted Pierre, his eyebrows raising soon after as he finally noticed you next to him. Your heart beat loudly in your chest as he got closer and closer to you.

You stood firmly in your spot, uncertain if a hug would be too big of an action after months of silence between you both, quite frankly you didn’t even want to touch him, the pain that he had caused you cutting too deep. Unfortunately, he beamed at you and grabbed your hips, pulling you into his chest and rocking you both side to side.

“Hi,” you laughed, unwilling to cause a scene in front of your brother, you moved your arms to wrap around his neck.

“It's great to see you” he admitted when he pulled away and you felt your throat close up at his words. “I’ve missed you”

“I missed you too,” you smiled and although it wasn’t a lie, the words felt dirty leaving your lips. You shouldnt have missed him, not when he left you lying alone in his bed after you both had sex.

“God, you're acting like you haven't spoken to each other in months,” Pierre laughed, and you and Charles shared an awkward look with each other. The silence that followed was unbearable.

You cleared your throat as you looked around the paddock. “I'm going to get some water” you quickly spilled out and abruptly turned in the other direction, ignoring the confused look that Pierre shot in your direction. You had only taken a few steps when Charles grabbed your arm and pulled you behind a random building.

“Shh it's me” he flinched as you pushed yourself away from him, “it's me” he repeated looking at the bewildered expression on your face.

“You couldn’t have just talked to me like a normal human being?” you argued, “Did you really have to drag me behind a building?”

“I couldn't talk about you know what around you know who” he threw back and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Oh! You dont want to talk about us having sex infronf of Pierre” you snapped and he covered your mouth with his hand. You bit his hand and he gasped in response.

“You bit me!” he half shouted.

“You didn’t seem to mind last time” you commented , relishing in how flustered Charles had gotten.

“We need to talk about that” he choked out, looking absolutely anywhere except your eyes.

“Oh so now you want to talk about it?” you asked with an accusing tone to your voice, surpringing not only Charles but also yourself.

“I know it was a dick move, I just” he sighed “I didn’t know how to bring it up”

“How about maybe not leaving straight away? How about sending me a text explaining how you felt instead of leaving me in the dark for months? If you thought it was a mistake you could have just-”

“I didn't think it was a mistake”

You couldn't help the effect those words had on your heart, but suddenly you were even more furious, he was unintentionally playing with your heart and you didn't know how much more of it you could take.

“Then why didn't you tell me!”

You were frustrated and he wasn’t helping one bit. He had left it too late, the damage was done, you had spent months regretting your decision to climb into bed with him and a few words lazily strung together to form a sentence wasn't going to erase the emotional damage he caused you. It didn't matter anymore whether it was intentional or not

“I didn't want to ruin our friendship”

“That is the dumbest excuse I've ever heard!”

You could feel tears pricking your eyes and all you wanted to do was sob your heart out, but you refused to cry in front of him, you didn't want him to know the effect he had on you. “Look your late and i - i need to breathe”

You didn't give him a chance to reply as you ran away, unable to face the boy who broke your heart: the boy who had given you everything you could possibly want, only to snatch it out of your grasp.

You cursed yourself for getting attached to that moment because now, every time you closed your eyes, all you see was him panting on top of you and all you could feel was his lips on your skin. It was a memory that used to delight you but now all it brought was sadness and pain.

You knew your attachment issues would bring you pain one day, but only now as you crouched down next to some random building, did you realise it would be physical pain. You clawed at your neck in desperation. You couldn't breathe. Your tears were practically suffocating you and you couldn't help but think Charles' hands ripping your heart from your chest was the cause.

Unknowingly to you, Charles watched your retreating figure with tears forming behind his eyes. It had finally hit him how much he fucked things up. He thought he was doing the right thing, he thought maybe you needed space, maybe you would have regretted it.

He wore his heart on his sleeve that day, everything that he told you was true, he was just so scared. So scared that he would be left heartbroken, that his feelings were unrequited, that maybe, just maybe, you would be disgusted with yourself for what you two did.

He left early the next morning to hype himself up, to finally tell you about his feelings for you that had been bubbling around in his stomach for years, but when he returned to his bedroom you were gone.

He didn't realise how much waking up to an empty bed would affect you, just as much as you didnt realise how much leaving would affect him.

He was never good at communication, but it was so easy with you, so why didn't he pick up the phone? He had no excuse except that he was scared.

It was his fear that hurt him the most. It was his fear that broke your heart and that had hurt him so much more than he thought was possible.

[justplainwhump]

The journalist

Tara’s Story - I

New female whumpee just dropped. Made her for another world, but @whumping-newbie abducted her into her Hitman-based (military) whump story and it’s a match. This is a collaboration.

Tara witnesses a conversation she shouldn’t have.

Content (warnings): Mostly build-up, some notions of (military) police brutality, manhandling, a touch of self-sacrifice that will definitely be built upon later, abduction. Female protagonist.

Marrakech

"Don't." Rabia's voice is rough. Her hand settles on mine, just as I want to grab my camera and leave for the Swedish consulate.

"It's alright, love." I point at the orange vest. PRESS is written over its back in huge letters, both English and Arabic. "I'll be good. It's just a peaceful protest. They'll want the world to see."

"The world, huh? Last time I heard JBS had an audience of 25 thousand." 

I put a hand on my hip and give her a mild frown. "You know that I've sold to bigger stations before. If it's good enough a story, I'll make national."

"If it's good enough a story, some people won't want you to tell it." Gently, she takes the camera from my hand. "I appreciate the time you've spent in my country, but it's still not yours. I’ve got a bad feeling about this. Trust me. You don't want to be caught up in this."

"I do!" I'm almost desperate. "Rabia, I've been waiting for the chance to do something political. I love all those 'human interest' cute little pieces, but I want to be taken seriously as a journalist. My story on Strandberg’s fraud was the perfect start! I’ve got a foot in the door, and now, these protests are happening right next door. Literally. So I beg you -" I reach out to take the camera back from her hands. "Don't keep that from me."

"The roof." Her grip around the camera is firm. "We can film the consulate from the roof. That's still good enough. You can get people on the street at another time."

"Rabia -" 

She stops me with a simple look from her dark eyes.

"Please," she whispers. "Please, my love, I beg you, too."

I sigh, before I lean in to press a kiss to her fingertips. "The roof, you say?"

She nods, relief flooding her face. I love her smile. I love being the reason for it. I've been insanely lucky to find someone like her in my life. She's right. It's her country, not mine. She's been my compass for so long. I should trust her now, more than ever.

"Let's go up there then. Lead the way."

-

The situation in front of the consulate is calm, despite the disproportionate amount of noise. Soldiers are monitoring the protesters, guns ready, but still relaxed. 

I bite my tongue to not comment on the chances I'd have, interviewing some of the people. I know the language well enough, I've learned to get people to open up to me, I - 

I shouldn't think this. Rabia is way more experienced than I am. If she feels something is off about this, she's probably right.

I take some more pans of the gathering crowd, zoom in on some of the signs. Mentally, I'm writing the off comments. I'll prepare a 30 second piece, just in case the station needs to fill a blank in their international news. Protestors, waiting soldiers, maybe something about the general mood in the city.

I nod to Rabia and point at the other side of the building, where an abandoned school has been turned into some sort of temporary army quarters. "Let me do a little moderation?"

She nods and takes the camera, carefully stepping back on the flat roof until she has me in a good angle. I flash her a smile, a private one, before I switch over to the professional one. "While protestors gather in front of the consulate, the military presence in the city is becoming more and more palpable. Provisional bases are emerging like in this abandoned school behind me-"

Rabia's eyes widen and she gestures for me to stop.

"What? I-"

"Shhh. Down," she hisses. "Look. Who's that? Is that -"

Soldiers are approaching the building, a blond foreigner between them. He's somewhat nervous, carefully glancing around. I can imagine why. It's him. The man all this is about. 

"Strandberg," I whisper, as I get to all fours, staring over the edge of the roof. "Keep the camera running."

"Bet." Rabia lays flat on the roof next to me, keeping the camera on them. 

On a hunch, I pull out my smartphone too and start filming. Always have backup. Whatever is going on here, it's going to be news worthy. 

"Why is he outside?" I whisper. "This doesn't look like an arrest, this looks like-"

A man steps out of the school building, another soldier, but with a more pompous uniform, causing the guards in the courtyard to straighten their backs and stand at attention.

"General Reza Zaydan," Rabia mumbles. "He shouldn't even be in Marrakech."

"They're talking. They're - what the hell are we seeing?"

There’s an order for an arrest out on Strandberg, he’s an escaped prisoner, all but under siege at the Swedish consulate. Just the fact that he made it out to the street is remarkable, but talking to a high ranking general of the Moroccan army, who doesn’t make any effort to arrest him? There’s a story behind it, and I need to be the one to report it.

"I don't know. I..." Rabia crawls backwards from the edge of the roof and looks over at me. "Love, let's leave, alright? Right now. I... They... This is bad."

I’m still peeking down at the schoolyard, the familiarity between them, the-

Yeah. We certainly should take this material somewhere else for now. 

Rabia pulls back the camera, and suddenly, on the schoolyard, the general freezes. He's looking at us. Straight at us, as he yells "Sniper!"

Fuck.

"Run," I stagger back and try to pull Rabia back with me. She doesn't move, just rolls onto her back and looks at me. "No use," she whispers flatly. "Too late. We're dead. We're dead and it's my fault. Forgive me."

"We're not. We're not dead, we have to run, we need to-" 

Shouts and footsteps sound from downstairs, still on the other side of the street. They're coming. They're looking for a shooter. They'll be cautious, but they'll be brutal.

"Hide," I hiss. "Take the camera and hide, they don't know there's two of us."

"Forgive me," she whispers again.

I can't help it. I slap her across the face, hard, and she finally blinks, staring at me in confusion. "The water tank. Now."

Somehow, she manages to get on all fours, grabbing the camera. "But-"

"I'm American. They won't let foreigners vanish." Unlike her. I don't say it. We both know it. "It's okay. I've got you."

She opens her mouth, freezes, before she nods and crawls over to the tank, pulls herself up the ladder and vanishes inside.

Steps are coming closer.

"Don't shoot!" I yell, in English, then French. "Please, I'm unarmed."

The phone is still in my hand. The phone, with the video, with Rabia's voice, with her contacts, with -

Oh, fuck.

"Hands up," someone yells and I hear them climb the metal stairs.

Without thought, I stuff the phone between the slats of one of the AC units next to me, before I sink to my knees and lift my hands. "I'm a journalist! Press! Don't shoot!"

-

They don't have Rabia. That's the only thing that matters. She's safe. My love is safe.

I tell myself that, repeat it over and over, while I'm thrown to the ground, hands in my hair, a knee pressing into my back. 

She's safe.

All will be well.

They force me down the ladder, drag me down the stairs. Nobody stays back on the roof. 

They do believe me, me and my ID card. That I'm a journalist, not a sniper. 

I'm not sure if that's entirely a good thing. 

Behind me, a group of soldiers stays back on the first floor to search the tiny two room office I've rented. I, however, am not needed here. They sling a shawl around my hair, before drag me across the street towards the school. To hide my hair, a part of me realises. To hide the fact they're arresting a foreigner.

Arresting, or abducting.

Arresting. I tell myself. It's an arrest. It'll be okay. Even though I've witnessed some shady things going on. Even though they're dragging me into some empty school room, tying me to the single chair standing in the middle. 

It'll be okay. It always turned out okay.

"Stay." A soldier says in broken English. 

I don't comment that I don't actually seem to have a choice.

It'll be okay.

[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Dionysus

Hey y’all, sorry for going dark! I’m alright, almost completely recovered in fact! I just got so sleepy while my body was fighting stuff off and couldn’t really work up the energy to write... Still going to be spotty for a short time, but I’m glad to have gotten this done. See ya soon!

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus

Lucifer

Well, this mortal stumbled out of the portal covered in glitter, body paint, and carrying a red solo cup… which they proceeded to stare at like, "'ell sshhit… Thiz iz sum stron s'uff…"

First impressions were not on their side here.

He spent a depressingly long amount of time more or less assuming that the MC was a drunken f-up and spent the first few months trying to make them more… presentable.

But like… How do you stop someone from acting like a drunk fool when they can turn any drink they touch alcoholic???

For months they would show up to meetings buzzed or stumbling, all smiles and all giggles but HORRIBLY unprofessional, and he just couldn't stand it!

But then he found out their little secret…

Assassination threats befall the exchange students all the time. Most of them are dealt with quickly but some (through skill or dumb luck) manage to slip through...

He had been walking with the MC through their new vineyard in the House's courtyard, yet again trying to lecture them about their drunken behavior, when suddenly the two were ambushed!

Ten or so heavily armored demons dropped down from the sky to attack them! Lucifer was so preoccupied that he got cornered by three of them and it took him a hot minute to destroy them.

When he looked back at the mortal (who had been fighting a 1-on-7) he was certain they'd have been kidnapped or worse…

But he saw that they had already cut down two attackers with their weapon with ease. The other five were rolling in the dirt, babbling about inexplicable terrors and imaginary pain as their minds succumbed to madness…

Meanwhile, the MC just stood in the middle of it all with the icy glare of someone who’s just revealed how stone-cold sober they've always been under the surface...

When they turned back to him, they put their usual ditzy smile back on over the tormented wails of the demons around them...

MC: Whoopsie… Gotta little mad there. 🙂

He uh… took a big ol'step off their back after that. Surprisingly, they're more pleasant (and less dangerous) "drunk" than they are sober…

Mammon

Oh HELL yeah!! Lucifer actually gave him a mortal that knows how to party!!

Admittedly, they looked like utter trash when they first met, like, "Hey, I've been at this party since DAWN" trash, but they gave him one good look and pulled together a surprisingly hot smile.

MC: "-ey yer cute… Ya like strip poker?"

Spoken like someone else who also makes shit decisions… They were going to get along just fine!

And they did. The MC to him was that one friend that's always down for anything. Just anything. Whenever. Wherever.

He wants to try sneaking into Lucifer's room to steal stuff? Sure, what time?

He wants to take a mattress and see if he can ride it down the grand staircase of the palace? Alright, we bringin' pillows too?

He needs to set up another scheme that's gotta involve live rats and box of tiny hats and monocles?? That's oddly specific but count them in!!

Sometimes he honestly can't tell if they're laid back or just crave chaos... but it works out fine for him either way so who cares? 🤷‍♀️

And if you think normal Mammon is a pain in the ass for Lucifer? Check out drunk Mammon. All the same urges but literally none of the (marginal) competence!!

At one point, the eldest ended up stringing both Mammon and the MC from the ceiling after they both barged into his office looking for Goldie… while he was still in there… watching them wander around aimlessly calling out for a piece of plastic like it was a missing puppy…

They end up together on the ceiling a lot come to think of it, but hey, at least now he has some company. 😌

Leviathan

Thinks they're the most normal normie to have ever normed on this normie planet!!!

No, seriously. They're a billion times worse than Asmo!! All they want to do is go to parties and drink all the time! What kind of use is he to someone like that??

… That being said they ARE pretty fun to be around… And their sake is WAY better than anything he could get off Akuzon!!

They also like karaoke too! So at least he has someone else to go with (even if they get so drunk they can’t remember any lyrics and just belt barely coherent discount Mariah Carey vocals behind him...)

Of course, the real fun between these two is everybody else getting to watch a couple of the Devildom's sloppiest drunks attempt to communicate with each other…

Levi: MMM-*hic*-MCCC…!!! *throws himself at them from across the bar*

MC: What Leviachan??? 😨 Did the chair kick you off?!

Levi: Nooo! *pokes their cheek* I wanna-I wanna tell you sometin'...! *tries pulling them closer*

MC: Whaa? Secrets?? *leans in eagerly*

Levi: Mammon used all ma money on’a pyramid scheme a thou-zand years ago… AND HE STILL WON'T PAY ME BAAA-!!! 😭😭 *starts shaking them violently*

MC: *getting flung around like a limp noodle* Waaaat?! Nooo!!! I'm so sowwy!! 😢

Mammon: *watching it all go down right next to him* 😑 Ya guys need some water… I'm cuttin' ya off, got it?

MC: 😱 Shut yer whore mouth, criminal!! *starts pelting him with pretzel bites*

Levi: 😤 Yah!! *joins in*

Good thing he's a shut-in, because the hangovers he gets after those escapades are unreal…

Satan

A little concerned for their liver, honestly… How much damage have they already done to the poor thing...?

But at the same time, he'll be damned if they don't make some utterly fantastic wine!

Alcokinesis wasn't a power he would have pegged a demigod to have but apparently the great art of making drinks comes from their godly DNA.

When they first met, he was trying to get the MC to act less slovenly but made the mistake of agreeing to a wager: he'd let them dress however they pleased if they could give him the BEST drink he'd ever tasted.

Now, Satan isn't a huge drinker (thank you terrible alcohol tolerance), but he's still a man of fine tastes. Plus, he's sampled Demonus from Diavolo royal stock before. They should not have won…

But on that day, he had to let them go to RAD in a pink blanket toga... 😑 Their wine is just THAT good.

He hates to admit it, but they've gotten him drunk more times than he could probably count too… He's not a huge fan of clubbing with them and the others, but if they bring over a bottle from their vineyard he just can't resist. They're a master of their craft, truly.

And it's a good thing he likes their drinks so much, because if they called him, "Kitty-boy," when he's sober, he may have just become a sour grape himself…

They also may or may not have copious amounts of blackmail material of him either meowing between sentences, sobbing over some fictional character he likes, pole dancing on dares….

Yeah, he's been trying to destroy their phone for months now. If Lucifer were to see ANY of that, he's done for… 😣

He has also been meaning to ask them about other aspects of their abilities, their father is also the God of Madness after all, but anytime he tries to bring it up they shove another glass in his hand and tell him not to kill the mood...

Eh. What's the harm in having another drink, right? 🤷‍♀️

Asmodeus 

Honey. He's MET Dionysus. He's been to a Dio-party or two and they're INSANE. He could not be more thrilled by this!!!

He practically scooped them up on the first night that they were in the House and it’s practically been a nonstop rave between these two ever since. They’re like the party twin he never knew he needed!!

He absolutely abuses their ability to turn pretty much any drink they touch into alcohol at clubs. It makes the nights so much easier on the wallet PLUS it makes an excellent little party trick to impress the succubi! Who doesn’t want a free drink? 😏

And can he just say that their drinks are better? Just flat out amazing! If it weren’t so unhealthy he’d consider drinking nothing but their booze and wine for the rest of his days, Satan’s certainly getting close to it.

But little does Satan know, he’s not even getting the GOOD stuff...

There’s the normal wine: grapes picked from the vineyard, hand squeezed, then magically helped through the fermenting process. But their real good stuff? They were given enchanted oak barrels from their father and anything that comes out of those is worth starting a WAR over. 😩

He knows, because he gifted an extra bottle to Diavolo once and Barbs came to him the very next day demanding to know what vineyard had produced it with the look of man willing to annex a small nation...

Asmo had to beg Lucifer to talk to Diavolo after the butler more or less kidnapped the MC back to the Castle… Devil knows even Barbs wouldn’t ever be able to reproduce their wine, so they could have been locked there for eternity!!

Thankfully, he got his party-buddy back and their debauchery continued! (Just now with Barbatos following them around sometimes like he’s trying to gather state secrets... It’s an impossible task but he hasn’t given up yet, bless his black heart.)

Beelzebub

He isn't much bothered by their carefree nature, at least they seem to be having fun with his family which he appreciates. 🙂

To be honest, though, he nearly ate them when they first met because they smell like freshly peeled grapes… and for good reason.

By their third day at the House they had (somehow) planted and cultivated a full on vineyard in the courtyard. Hell, the wall growing to their bedroom balcony was covered in grapevines!! Always ripe and completely healthy in defiance of the lack of sun... Whatever magic they used was strong.

And, of course, their grapes were also delicious! Easily among the best fruits he's ever tasted! Every cluster is ridiculously plump, juicy, and sweet like little droplets of pure Heaven… 🤤

When their fruit first ripened, the MC came out with a basket to collect some only to find Beel had gouged himself on over half of their crop!!!

… which may have been why he got snared up on one of the courtyard walls by pissed off grapevines... Even with all his strength, he couldn't break through them and had to wait for Lucifer to cut him down… 😔 

From then on, Beel was pretty much the pesky rabbit to the MC's harvest. They had to set up traps and magical barriers to keep him from their precious grapes…!! Which inevitably meant one of his brothers had to come rescue him from their furious vines at least once a week... 🙄

SOMETIMES, the MC will bring him along to help harvest with them with the deal that he can have an extra basket for however many he helps them pick. But the second he takes a bite he shouldn't, it’s back on the wall!

Out of the vineyard, they're nice enough. But put some grapes between these two and they're mortal enemies… STOP messing with their plants, Beel!! 😤

Belphegor 

So… this drunken fool is supposed to get him out of the attic? Never mind, this is never going to work…

He was SEVERELY underwhelmed when the "human" finally made it up the steps. This was who they decided to bring for their exchange program? They seemed like they could barely stand!

Naturally, he figured all the better for him. They probably wouldn't even last that long! 

Some poor, incompetent human falling victim to a demon out there? Diavolo's reputation would in tatters and he wouldn't even have to lift a finger! (His favorite way of doing things really 😌).

But… they just kept coming back? Like. Nothing was killing them….! How guarded were they keeping this moron?? 

Or… maybe it was something else?

Sure, the MC seemed like a drunken idiot but there were times when he'd swear that they were just… too aware to be sloshed…

MC: *suddenly stops smiling at him mid-conversation and looks him in the eye* You tilt your head when you lie. You know that?

How can someone so cheerful ALSO be so unnerving…?

So really, he should have seen their sudden heel-turn after they opened the door coming. There he was, fully intending to take them by surprise and choke them after a hug…

...and they knocked him down, climbed onto his back like a spider monkey, and rode him around like a bucking bull using his horns like handlebars!!

It wouldn’t have been AS humiliating if they didn’t also keep shouting things like "Giddiyap!" And "Yee-haw!!"

It took him a whole month to be sure that any and all footage of that nightmare was erased and he STILL hates the MC quite a bit for it…. But he's too scared to attack them now, so…

The lesson here? It's not a fair fight when one side’s crazy... 😔😒