#should you read them? a thousand times yes

[krysmcscience]

It’s finally done, guys – five whole pages of Narilamb AU comic AND MORE be upon you! (If you have trouble reading any of the text, view the full-size! These pages are huge!)

Yeesh, this took forever. <:)

There’s probably a ton of inconsistencies and anatomy/perspective wonkeries, but this was mostly just comic practice, so Oh Hekkin Well, Lol <:D

(Yes, I am aware the Gateway’s door isn’t present in the Afterlife, and the actual way in is just a pentagram portal. Yes, I put the door in there anyway because Artistic License, i.e. it felt more impactful for there to be a prison door of sorts to walk through to freedom, rather than just a bland boring portal on the ground. 😠)

anyway, i hate backgrounds so much lmao

Alternate ending and a buttload of bonus art under the cut, followed by goofy AU rambles and headcanon stuff:

I’m calling it the Revival AU. It’s not all that creative a title, and someone else has probably used it already, but I am too lazy to really care, LOL

Alternate ending page, which you will Definitely need to view the full-size for, Whoopsie Daisy:

The alternate ending was actually the first ending I finished things off with, because I had a brief badbrain moment where I forgot the emotional beat I initially wanted the comic to end on, and I tend to write comedy, anyway. I later remembered and drew out the proper ending, but I preserved and finished this one, too, because it still makes me giggle.

They had to go back for the followers off-screen in the AU’s real ending. And by ‘they’ I mean just the Lamb, because they weren’t about to ask three newly freed cats to go back into what used to be their prison. The Lamb DID spend some time watching Narinder and the bois enjoying the outdoors first, though:

In other news, here’s the Lamb and me making fun of my anatomy-drawing ‘skills’:

Meanwhile, if you’re wondering why the Lamb is just a-okay with how things went down vis a vis Their Murder, this bonus comic should answer at least some of your questions:

Ah, yes, also this is how they get engaged outside of the alternate ending. Forgot to mention that bit. XD (I already refuse to believe that Narinder is capable of flirting normally, so why would his initial marriage proposal be any better???)

Oh, and before any of them get a chance to actually head back to the cult grounds, there is one potential problem:

And by ‘problem’ I mean something Narinder intends to ignore for At Minimum a thousand years. Cuz he’s a petty bitch like that. :D

what do you mean i drew the lamb too tall compared to the background? clearly they’re standing on top of baal and aym lmao, why else would you think those two aren’t in this one??? (aym and baal got way too excited about finally being outside, you see, and their silly modes are nothing to sneeze at)

And, speaking of heading back to the cult grounds, I’m sure y’all would love to know how the Lamb’s followers felt about the brand new change in management:

It all went better than expected. <:D Tiny ramble now, feel free to skip down to the next comic.

Before you ask, no, the Lamb does not have any actual powers anymore, other than the immortality Narinder definitely grants them. The Red Crown just thinks it’s funny to suggest otherwise, and Narinder does nothing to discourage this. Also, the Lamb and Narinder aren’t actually married here yet, but, uh. Pretty safe to say that particular ritual directly follows the events of this comic. XD

Given how quickly he mellows out in canon, Narinder probably chills out a lot in this AU once he’s in charge of the cult, too, if only because 1.) He’s finally free, and 2.) He’s equally smitten with and distracted by the Lamb. He’s definitely in charge at least 95% of the time, though, because the Lamb never actually wanted to be a cult leader and, now that their time as a vessel is done, they just want to be a normal(ish) sheep who’s wholly devoted to their hot new divine husband.

Some followers do still have some valid concerns about these two being together, though, which I’m sure at least a few of you might share…

Unfortunately for any such concerns, the Lamb is a bonafide masochist in this AU. :D

They’re also 100% a sub, obviously

Anyone at all: Your relationship is problematic and potentially toxic

The Lamb: fuck yeah it is, it’s so hot~ OuO

Here’s just the last panel, made transparent for whatever nefarious purposes y’all might have for it:

Additional exchange Narinder and the Lamb have at some point, probably after the Lamb does a fatal whoopsie while out on a mission trip or in response to things getting a little too sadistic in the bedroom, ahaha:

Look, there is a very important distinction between life and death, and if you don’t understand that, then you’re probably not worthy of being the God of Death, anyway. (At least, according to Narinder, and ONLY Narinder.)

Last but not least, have these shittens:

~Such creative naming conventions I have utilized, lololol~ :D Anyway, there's a few deets on them in the rambles down below.

The rest is all ramble, so before I get to that, I’ll just say – likes and especially reblogs are very much appreciated!!! :D If you happen to really really REALLY like my stuff, meanwhile, I do have a link in my bio to my ko-fi page, where I’m accepting commissions and donations if you’re especially generous… ÓuÒ

Now, BE FREE IF YOU AIN’T DOWN FOR READING MY GOOFY RAMBLES

First ramble is re: Baal’s question of ‘Did it really work?’, since I didn’t feel like expanding on it in the comic proper, and it’s arguably pretty vague? He doesn’t ask because he doubts Narinder or his capabilities, exactly, but because neither Baal nor Aym have ever actually seen their god at full power before (he’s still technically not at full power here, either). It’s not expressly stated how soon the brothers were brought to Narinder after his imprisonment, but whether it was early on or after a length of time for Shamura to (somewhat) recover from his attack, he must have already been weakened, since I have no doubts that there was a huge battle that accompanied the Bishops working together to trap him. So, between that fight with all four of his siblings, sharing his power with a variety of vessels over time, and being chained immobile for a thousand years, he must have been severely weakened by the time he lent the Red Crown out to the Lamb, which would have only weakened him further.

I like to think this is how the Lamb is able to defeat him if they refuse to be sacrificed, despite how it took all four Bishops working together to subdue and chain Narinder in the first place.

All that aside, the three cats have been trapped in the Afterlife for so long that Baal also wanted verbal reassurance that they are all, indeed, actually able to leave it now – something that I headcanon isn’t possible without a significant amount of power (i.e. the Red Crown’s cooperation with its bearer/vessel).

(On a semi-related note, I don’t headcanon Aym and Baal as twins. I like sweetheart big bro Baal and snarky little goth bro Aym too much to have them be that close in age.)

Ah, teeny thing: If you noticed I switched up the art style for Narinder on the second page, that was intentional. It's sort of a visual indicator that there has been a Big Change for him - that being, how much power he has after sacrificing the Lamb. As for why I changed up his arms in the grass rollin' pic, I don't really subscribe to the notion that his arms are spooky bones because they're horrifically injured (beyond chain-chafing scars, that is), but rather just because he's the Bishop of Death, so he can change how normal-to-spooky they look at will. At some point I might doodle out how I imagine his appearance to range between least to most eldritch... 🤔

Next ramble, regarding Narinder’s feelings towards the Lamb...he was initially too focused on being freed from his imprisonment to form any real attachment to them. They were a tool for his use, first and foremost, but he did notice their intense devotion towards him. It was impossible not to notice, because the Lamb was always very happy to see him, even if it was because they died during a crusade (yet again). He wasn’t originally planning to revive them once he was freed, either, because he saw no real point to it – after all, they were already dead when they first met him, just as any other mortal would be when meeting him in the Afterlife, so death has very little real consequence in his eyes. But, once the chains were off, and it really sank in that he stood to lose the most devoted follower he’s ever had, he decided…why put their soul to rest for good or leave them stuck in the Afterlife when he could just as easily revive them again? And why not reward them for their hard work, anyway? Not only would it cost him nothing by comparison, but the future devotion that could come of it would surely make up for his (bare minimum) effort in reviving them.

He wasn’t expecting to get a full dose of that devotion and a smiling face so soon after killing them, though~ :3c (because the Lamb is a bonafide freak, and not-so-secretly into the fucked up power dynamics going on here, lol)

I should mention here that I am firmly of the belief that any non-god/vessel who crosses through the Gateway and into the Afterlife just straight up dies. So, Aym and Baal? Also straight up dead, from the second Shamura brought them through. Their souls were just never put to rest so that Narinder could have some company – if only according to Shamura. Narinder kept the two around mostly out of bewilderment, because honestly, who are these kittens, and what is Shamura’s game here, anyway??? They never even explained anything, they just tossed these kittens into the Afterlife and LEFT!!! At any rate, Aym and Baal being dead is how I explain why their souls apparently become lost in the void if they’re killed, along with the added complications required to revive the two because of it.

So, with those deets in mind, and given a bit of time, if Narinder hadn’t chosen to revive the Lamb, and also hadn’t chosen to put their soul to rest, they still would have woken up at some point, despite being as straight up dead as Aym and Baal. Who, don’t worry, were also properly revived while Narinder was waiting for the Lamb to wake up. Because I am also firmly of the belief that, first, the dead cannot leave the Afterlife without the use of a ritual/relic (and can't stay in the living world for long regardless), and second, dead followers’ devotion isn’t anywhere near as potent as that of the living, given how much more the living stand to lose.

Final ramble, regarding the Lamb’s feelings towards Narinder, and why they’re so devoted to him…

Well, you don’t spend most of your life on the run with your steadily-dwindling herd, trying to evade the ongoing genocide of your species, without becoming a little fucked up in the head. Maybe a lot fucked up in the head. Life is suffering, so might as well have fun with it, right? Maybe start finding death and pain to be kind of hilarious, even a little bit hot, once everyone you know and love is dead and gone, leaving you all alone? And maybe after that, there’s something comforting in how, despite the cold, cruel uncertainties of life, at least you can always count on the inevitability of death, patiently waiting for you until your very last breath? Who knows. Either way, as soon as the Lamb was killed, and they learned that the literal God of Death was offering them a second chance at life and vengeance via effective immortality, they were 100% ride-or-die-devoted all at once. Turns out death is kinder than life – go figure. (Of course, it helps that Narinder is 100% their type.)

They weren’t put off by Narinder’s thinly-veiled sadism or manipulations, either – they’re not too different in those regards, albeit opting for vastly different methods. It’s a very ‘two sides of the same coin’ sort of deal. In order to stay alive once they were made the last of their kind, the Lamb had no qualms with using others to their advantage, and that did not change once they were revived and expected to run a cult. They didn’t care for the position of authority, though – being a sheep and all, they’re much more of a follower than a leader, and thus greatly appreciated Narinder’s need for control. With how they had to keep on their toes for so long, the Lamb was also pretty good at reading people by the time they died, so they could recognize that a lot of Narinder’s posturing was just that – posturing. Dude’s 95% bluster and only 5% bite. He could obviously be vicious when he wanted or needed to (the Bishops' injuries were clear proof of that), but underneath his outer layer of cruelty was a generous layer of tsundere, and underneath all THAT was a soft squishy middle sibling velcro cat in desperate need of attention and affection.

(Which, for the record, he Did Not feel comfortable getting from Aym and Baal – Narinder still has no idea why the fuck Shamura sent them to him, beyond acting as keepers at best or trying to sabotage his attempts to escape at worst. Which, he thought HE sabotaged in turn, by guiding the kittens into being his devoted disciples instead. He thought he was very clever for it. ‘I outsmarted Shamura!’ he thought, despite that there was never anything there to outsmart. ‘What do you mean, Shamura sent your kittens to me for company?’ he demands of Forneus later. It may or may not lead him to pull Shamura out of Purgatory just so he can shake them and scream about how they should have Fucking Explained that!!!)

But, getting back on track as to why the Lamb was so willing to be sacrificed, I cannot stress this enough – if you pay even a minimal amount of attention to what he’s saying, Narinder is REALLY NOT SUBTLE about his intentions. ‘Death is of little consequence.’ ‘Followers are for you to use to your advantage.’ ‘Sacrifice a follower to absorb more power.’ So, yeah, the Lamb knew exactly what would be expected of them once the other Bishops were dead. They knew Narinder would expect them to die for him one last time. But, after all, death is of little consequence (not to mention hot), so when the time came, they wanted to see him freed, even if it meant oblivion for them in the end.

He’d given them a second life, and the ability to avenge their kin, and they felt indebted to him for that – so, while they were still pretty glum about the possibility that they might not get to see him free of his chains, nothing beyond their devotion and debt to him mattered. They never wanted all the drama and expectations that came with the Red Crown’s power, anyway, so, better for Narinder to have it back so that he could deal with it. What he did with the Lamb afterward would be up to him, and seeing as he was their god, they’d accept his decision gladly.

Were they in love with him by that point? Oh, obsessively so, but only in the devotional sense – romance was nowhere on their mind nor radar. That is, until he unexpectedly revived them again, told them he still needed them, and then offered down his hand to help them up.

The Lamb fell HARD for him in that moment. :3c

And now, a tiny shitten ramble. Lu and Li are twins, because sheep tend to have those a lot, and are conceived not long after the Lamb and Narinder’s marriage ceremony. Lu is the minutes older one, but Li is much more mature. I have put no further thought into these two, other than that they are utter menaces, birthed by the Lamb, cling hard to both their parents but especially Narinder (who spoils them rotten), and they are both genderfluid, using whichever pronouns/names they feel like at any given time. They are also both intersex, same as the Lamb, who was initially infertile up until Something Something Vague Magic, which I have also put no further thought into ¯\_(シ)_/¯

oh, and before anyone tries to suggest i headcanon this AU’s lamb as trending more female due to them giving birth or whatever, no, no, a thousand times no, they might have a vag, but they've also got a dick, and even if it's not as big as they'd like, they still know how to use it

Finally, the very tentative name for the Lamb in this AU is Yazdi, which is really just another name for the Baluchi breed of sheep XD (Not that the Lamb is this specific breed, I just didn’t like any of the other sheep-related names I found, ahaha...)

THAT’S ALL FOR NOW (collapses into an exhausted pile of goopy limbs)

[multific]

Two Sides of The Same Coin

Hannibal Lecter x Wife!Reader

Warnings: Cannibalism, Smut, Murder +18!!!

Summary: You two were so different, yet still the same. 

"Mrs Lecter?" 

You turned and smiled at the woman. "Yes?" you asked with a soft tone when in reality you were fuming.

How dare she just come up to you out of the blue?!

How dare she interrupt your perfect evening?!

"Hi, My name is Lucy, and I'm a huge fan of your books." of course she was, your books are brilliant. "I truly believe you are a pioneer in the genre of horror-romance."

"Thank you very much." Of course you were, no one was as good as you.

"I was wondering if you could sign my book please?"

"No problem at all." you smiled so sweetly. Why would she even have the book with her?! You are in a restaurant! You quickly signed her book and she thanked you, with your smile still present you turned back and lifted your glass to your lips.

"No need to be angry, Darling." your husband chuckled as you looked into his eyes.

Reading the other as if you were open books was something that came to both of you naturally. 

"I'm here to celebrate our anniversary. Not at a meet and greet."

"Of course, but you have to indulge them a little. Make them think they are important so they keep coming back. You mastered that one, My Love."

"I believe it was you rubbing off on me. After all, it is 30 years we have known one another."

"And I knew you were trouble from the second I saw you. Cunning, manipulative, narcissistic, egoistic, psychotic. And yet you are stunning and mine." Hannibal lifted his glass as you clicked yours against his.

"Only yours." you smiled at him, this one, was not fake but a genuine one for your husband.

On your way home from the restaurant, it began to rain, you let out a long sigh as Hannibal was driving.

"Rain always makes me nostalgic," you said as he grabbed your hand and kissed the back of it. He stopped at a red light and you looked at him. "When you killed my stepfather... for me. It was also raining."

"He had it coming, he abused you and murdered your mother. I gave him a merciful end. One he didn't deserve."

"He deserved to suffer like I did, but it was not what I meant, Hannibal."

"Please, elaborate then."

"You killed him because he was about to kill me, you became my saviour, but it is not only that. I remember you tore him apart, you kept on cutting and breaking his bones. I should have been disgusted, yet all I could think about was the way your muscles tensed and the grunts you let out."

"So, I turned you on." he spoke as he turned a corner. "I figured, from the way you acted after."

"I never got naked so fast in my life. We made love in that pool of blood in front of the fireplace. I remember we were young and unsure. It was so hot, I could taste blood on your lips." you could recall the way he moved his hips, so amazing, he reached such depths inside you that you weren't even sure existed. 

But he could also recall the way you completely submit to him. You only ever done that to him, no one else gets to have control over you, but him.

"Why are you bringing this up now? It has been a very long time ago."

"Because I want you to do the same tonight. As my gift for our wedding anniversary, I wish to watch you hunt, break and cut and then, I want you to fuck me in the blood."

"We are very similar, My Love." he stopped the car, your eyes never leaving him. "I was thinking almost the same." he smiled as the window behind you rolled down.

"Hi there, I like a three-way, 500 for an hour." the woman behind you talked and you finally turned to look at her.

Prostitutes disgusted you, the way they looked at your husband made your blood boil, but you smiled at her. 

"How about a thousand and I get to watch?" Hannibal replied and you smirked.

The woman agreed and got into the backseat, having no idea what she was in for.

"Happy anniversary."

"I love you." you said as he began to drive again.

---

The next morning you wake up in your bed, under the warm sheets with the smell of food filling the air.

You slowly woke up as the blanket fell down your naked body.

You rolled out of bed, and got dressed in one of Hannibal's shirts before heading to the kitchen.

"Good morning." you said as he had his back turned towards you. You rounded the kitchen island and hugged him.

"Morning. I made your favourite for breakfast. Bacon with eggs."

You looked at the meat sizzling in the pan before looking up at Hannibal as he leaned down to kiss you.

"She truly was a pig." 

Taglist: @castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad @groovyqueer @lilliumrorum

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[evilminji]

Okay, as I have mentioned, I'm Ace AF. And you know that plot line in kids cartoons where the alien or foreign Warrior Royalty just sort of *violently kicks down door in full armor* "We Will Marry."? I?? Always said:

"Sure!" (#OhThankFUCK!)

Like what do you mean "No"? The powerful, attractive, monarch that is very into you has travel a great distance JUST to marry you! Now you don't have to date! They seem nice! You can skip the whole "trying to find a life partner" awkwardness.

So, Sudden New Fiancee(tm) how we doing this? Blended customs? Two weddings? One in your peoples traditions, one in mine? Should we invite your family? Tell me more about yourself.

God, this solves just... SO MUCH for me? No having to make small talk. No "do they like me?" Or "am I reading the signs here right?" No failed dates! It's positively ideal! AND they announced why they were qualified, in a VERY impressive show of power and prestige, when they arrived! Good lineage AND accomplished!! Very nice.

Don't get why everyone's so upset.

Sure the "we leave at once" thing that usually follows would have to be discussed, but that's what you DO as spouses. Really guys, it's like you think I'm incapable of common sense here.

And you know who probably agrees with me? Damian Wayne.

Hell is other people, INDEED. You expect him to just... randomly go up to people and try Courting them? What do you MEAN it's "creepy" to compile portfolios on eligible individuals of worthy bloodlines? How ELSE is he supposed to know if they are worth attempting to talk too?!

There are BILLIONS of humans on this gods forsaken rock, Richard! Is he supposed to just GUESS? Gamble and hope for LUCK? This is a MARRIAGE not a "best friends club"!

Then? Danny showes up.

Gotham heard her baby talking. Heard her KING being harassed by clearly plotting Observants and power hungry ghosts MANY times his age. Connected some dots. Formed themselves a new OTP.

Danny says "Fuck It". Worst he can say is No. According to Gotham, he is neither Shy not the meek obedient sort. Is in fact, VERY stabby. So if he's not interested he'll no doubt be BRUTALLY clear about that.

So? Danny gets Fright Knight. Go get him a horse. Someone fetch Cujo some armor. He's been told the guy like weapons and animals.

TIME TO BE IMPRESSIVE.

He goes FULL Regalia. Armor of solid night sky. Cape of frost and stardust. Crown like crack in reality itself, through which the cosmos gleam and shift. He gets a horse from the far frozen. They're wooly and carnivorous. Gets THE most impressive sword he can find to wear.

It's gonna be a gift, since he doesn't need it.

He does the whole "rend the skies open" thing. Fan fair and knights. Every title he's ever been given, no matter how embarrassing he find them in reality. And announces his intentions. Declares that ONLY Damian Wayne, aka. Robin, is WORTHY to Marry Him. And (in the traditional Ghost proposal of "either accept or tell me to fuck off" /w violence) Demands Damian accept his offer of Marriage.

Right there.

IN THE WATCHTOWER.

In front of EVERYBODY. And yes, ESPECIALLY the Bats. Who are making glitching, vaguely threatening DEMONIC NOISES. Because? You... you THREATEN the BABY? Death. Ten thousand years DEATH.

People are :O ing and backing away from the visible heatwave of unadulterated FURY being put off by Batman. Danny is nano-second from every bone his ANCESTORS had being reduced to a fine paste.

Then? Damian consider him... considers the sword being thrust in his direction, still held aloft in a steady and armored hand... contemplates those titles for a second...

And goes: "Acceptable. Very well, but I have demands."

N..... Nani the FUCK? Says local Bat-Dad. No??? You are NOT GETTING MARRIED.

Try to stop him. He very obviously IS, according to Damian, the man brought him a kick ass sword and has a giant green dog. Is the king of an ENTIRE REALITY. Yes, he realizes he probably COULD do better... but frankly? This one's cute. But if it upset you so... extended engagement. There. Happy?

NO! Because the JLA Dark are LOSING THEIR SHIT. Damian is still UNDERAGE. We don't even know how OLD this being is! NO MARRIAGE.

Damian is unimpressed. A whole six months? That he's likely already LIVED thanks to various timeloops, temporal shenanigans, and reality warping bits of fuckery? You're reaching.

Just? Marriage Meet Cute.

@hdgnj @ailithnight @the-witchhunter @nerdpoe

[br0kenangel]

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝐌𝐲 𝐝♡ve 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

Pairing: Unhinged Aegon x Therapist Reader part 3

Summary: after that night, no matter what you do, no matter what you say, no one believes you. You're done. You want to quit being his therapist but you still haven't seen the worst part...

Warning: paranoia, abuse, mental illness.

˚꒰♡꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

PART 1, PART 2

It had been days since that night—days since the dead doves, the blood on the walls, the police visit to the Targaryen home. Days since Y/N last felt normal.

Now, the walls of her apartment seemed to close in on her. The curtains remained drawn, blocking out the light of day. The once-cozy space was now a prison, suffocating her with silence, except for the incessant scratching at the back of her mind. The feeling of being watched, of not being alone. Every creak, every whisper of wind against the windows made her jump.

She couldn’t eat. She couldn’t sleep. Her body felt weak, and her mind was clouded in a haze of paranoia. Her hair was greasy, her skin pale and blotchy. Dark circles framed her eyes—eyes that were wide with fear, darting around the room, always expecting him. Expecting Aegon to appear from the shadows. She had stopped showering, afraid that if she closed her eyes for even a second, he’d be there when she opened them. Her reflection in the mirror was foreign, ghostly, a stranger trapped in a body consumed by terror.

And her boyfriend…he was tired. More than tired. He was done.

"Y/N, for fuck's sake, you have to stop this," he snapped, his voice breaking the silence like glass shattering on the floor. He stood in the kitchen, staring at her with a mix of frustration and pity, while she sat at the edge of the couch, her legs pulled to her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around them.

"You don’t believe me. You never believe me,” she muttered, her voice hoarse from days of crying, of pleading. "I saw him. It was him. I know it was him." Her eyes were wild, flicking toward the corners of the room as though Aegon might materialize from the shadows at any moment.

Jacob sighed, rubbing his temples. "Y/N, we've been over this a thousand times. The cops checked him out. There was nothing—nothing—to suggest he did anything. No evidence, no signs, nothing. He’s just some guy going through a rough time, and you're his therapist. You’ve taken this too far."

She flinched at his words, the sting of them sinking into her chest. "No…you don’t get it. You don’t see him like I do. He’s dangerous. I’m not safe. He knows where I live. He wants me." Her voice trembled as she spoke, each word a desperate plea for him to understand.

But he didn’t. He was tired of this, of her, of everything.

"You're obsessed, Y/N. Obsessed with this guy. You spend all your time thinking about him, talking about him, dreaming up this whole fucking scenario in your head like you're the main character of some horror movie. But this isn't a movie—this is real life, and you're making shit up!" His voice grew louder, angrier with every word, his patience long gone.

Y/N shook her head, her body trembling. "I'm not making it up. You have to believe me—please. I’m not crazy. I’m not—"

"Yes, you are!" He cut her off, his face twisted with frustration. "You’re fucking crazy, Y/N! Years of being a therapist have finally caught up with you. You’ve absorbed all the bullshit from your patients, and now you’re projecting it onto this guy. Aegon didn’t do anything to you—he’s just some poor bastard who had the misfortune of being assigned to you."

Her stomach lurched at his words. The pain of his accusation was worse than anything she’d felt before. It was like a knife twisting inside her, carving out the last remnants of hope she’d clung to. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think.

"I'm not crazy," she whispered, her voice broken, fragile. She didn’t even recognize herself anymore.

Jacob slammed his hand on the counter, his eyes blazing with frustration. "Then why are you acting like it? Why can’t you just let this go? You're ruining your life—our life—because you’re so fixated on this guy. You won’t eat, you won’t sleep, you’re a fucking mess, Y/N! I can't keep doing this! Every time I try to help you, you just spiral deeper into this delusion!"

Tears streamed down her face, but she barely felt them. "I’m not delusional," she repeated, but her voice cracked, betraying her.

"Yes, you are!" He shouted, stepping closer, his face red with anger. "You’re making this shit up because you’re obsessed with him. Admit it! You’re obsessed with Aegon. You’ve let him get into your head, and now you’re the one who’s losing it."

"No!" she cried, her voice raw. "I’m not obsessed with him! I don’t care about him like that! I’m scared—he’s going to hurt me! I know he is!"

He scoffed, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Oh, give me a break. You’ve been so wrapped up in this guy, you probably want him to do something, just so you can play the victim. Just so you can have some sick thrill of being the center of his attention. It’s pathetic, Y/N."

His words felt like a slap in the face, each one tearing at her like claws. She stared at him, wide-eyed, unable to believe that this was happening—that he was saying these things to her. The one person who was supposed to protect her, to believe her, had turned against her.

"I can’t do this anymore," he said, his voice quieter now but still laced with anger. "I can’t keep pretending that you're okay, because you're not. You need help. Professional help. Maybe you should check yourself into a fucking psych ward, because right now, you’re acting like a fucking lunatic."

Her breath hitched in her throat. The room seemed to spin around her, her vision blurring with tears. "How can you say that?" she whispered, her voice shaking. "How can you say that to me?"

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly done with the conversation. "Because it's the truth. And deep down, you know it. You're spiraling, Y/N. And I’m not going to stand here and let you drag me down with you."

Silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating. She felt as though the world had collapsed around her, the last piece of her sanity slipping away.

"Fine," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. "If you think I’m crazy…then just go. Leave me."

He stared at her for a long moment, the anger still simmering in his eyes. Then, without another word, he turned and stormed out of the apartment, the door slamming shut behind him, leaving Y/N alone in the dark.

And for the first time in days, the silence felt more dangerous than ever.

Y/N stood in front of the mirror, her eyes red and swollen from sleepless nights. She hadn’t heard from her boyfriend in days, and each missed call had sent her deeper into a pit of despair. But today was different. Today was the day she would finally face Aegon.

Her hands shook as she brushed her hair, her fingers trembling with every stroke. Her reflection looked haggard—dark circles under her eyes, skin pale and sickly. She barely recognized herself, but she needed to pull it together. She had to pull it together.

"He’s just a man," she whispered to herself, her voice shaky but determined. "Just a man… I’m in control. I have to be in control. I can’t let him win."

Her eyes flickered toward the closet. She needed to choose something to wear, something that made her feel strong, confident. Something that would hide how utterly broken she felt inside.

She reached for a black turtleneck, one of the few pieces of clothing that didn’t feel too vulnerable, too exposed. The fabric clung to her body in a way that was both comforting and suffocating, but she convinced herself it was armor. Something to shield her from the weight of Aegon’s gaze. She paired it with dark jeans and boots, feeling the weight of each step as she slipped them on.

"It’s just another session," she muttered, pulling her hair back into a tight ponytail. "I’m going to confront him. I’m going to tell him it’s over. He can’t do this to me anymore."

She stared at herself in the mirror, trying to find some semblance of the person she used to be. Her hands gripped the edges of the sink, her knuckles white from the pressure.

"You're not crazy," she told herself, her voice stronger this time. "He’s messing with you, but you can stop this. You can end this. Just get through today, and then you’re done. You’ll quit. You’ll never have to see him again."

Her heart raced at the thought of being in the same room with him again, but she forced herself to breathe.

"In and out," she whispered, taking a deep breath. "Just…in and out. You can do this. You have to do this."

She tried to picture how it would go. She’d walk into the room, sit across from him like she always did, but this time, she wouldn’t let him get to her. She wouldn’t let his twisted words sink into her skin like poison.

"I’m the therapist," she reminded herself, pacing back and forth now, her boots tapping against the hardwood floor. "I’m the one in control. He’s just a patient. He’s just…" She trailed off, the image of Aegon’s wide eyes and the way he had silently told her to shut up flashing in her mind.

She shook her head, trying to push the memory away. "No, no… Don’t think about that. You’re stronger than this. You’re not scared of him. You can quit. You can walk away."

But her hands wouldn’t stop trembling. She stared at them, willing them to be steady. "Breathe," she muttered, forcing another deep breath into her lungs. "Just breathe."

She grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder, the weight grounding her for a moment. "You’ve got this," she whispered one last time, trying to convince herself.

But as she headed for the door, the creeping sense of dread wrapped around her, cold and suffocating.

Y/N sat at her desk, staring at the door, the silence of the room pressing in on her. Every second that passed felt like an eternity, and the knot of anger in her chest only grew tighter. She gripped the edge of her desk, her fingers turning white. She was done with Aegon. Done with his games, his manipulations, his stalking. Today, she was ready to confront him—she was ready to make him understand that she wasn’t going to be his victim anymore.

The memory of the dead doves, the blood, still haunted her. Every night, she barely slept, feeling like his eyes were on her, even when she knew she was alone. And yet, despite all of it, he had gotten away with it. He had made her look crazy, gaslighted her in front of the police and her boyfriend, made her question her own reality. But not anymore. Today, she was taking control. Today, she would end it.

Her jaw clenched as she imagined him walking through the door, with that smug, twisted grin. Her mind raced with the confrontation she had been playing over and over in her head. She would scream at him, shout at him until he admitted what he had done. Until he finally stopped pretending to be some innocent victim.

The minutes dragged on, her heart pounding in her chest as she stared at the clock. And then, finally, the door creaked open.

Aegon stepped in, but something was different. He wasn’t the man she was used to seeing—there was no smirk, no defiance. He looked… broken. Shattered.

Her eyes widened in shock. His face was a mess of bruises, swollen and discolored, with dark bags hanging under his bloodshot eyes. His clothes were disheveled, stained with dirt and blood. He walked with a limp, his steps small and hesitant, like every movement hurt him. His hands were clasped tightly together in front of him, shaking as they fidgeted against each other. He kept his head down, glancing around the room like a trapped animal, flinching at every noise, every movement.

Y/N blinked, completely taken aback. This wasn’t the Aegon she knew—the arrogant, unhinged man who had stalked her, terrorized her. No, this was something else, something… disturbing. He looked like someone who had been run over, like life had chewed him up and spat him out, and now he stood there, fearful and fragile.

For a split second, she felt something almost like pity creep into her chest. But then she remembered who he was. What he had done. And the anger surged back to the forefront.

"What the hell happened to you?" she asked, her voice dripping with disdain.

He didn’t answer. He just stood there, eyes darting around, avoiding her gaze. His lips trembled, but no words came out.

She slammed her hands on the desk, the sound echoing through the room. "Aegon!" she snapped. "What the fuck is wrong with you? What kind of game are you playing now?"

At the sound of her raised voice, Aegon jumped, visibly flinching. His body curled inward like he was trying to make himself smaller, his shoulders hunching as his knees gave way. He dropped to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest, rocking back and forth like a scared child.

Y/N’s anger faltered for a moment, replaced by confusion and a creeping sense of dread. "Aegon, what the hell is going on?" she asked again, but this time her voice was quieter, uncertain.

He didn’t respond. Instead, he started muttering under his breath, his voice shaky and broken. "What’s the matter?" he whispered, his words barely audible. "What’s the matter, Aegon?"

Her heart sank as she realized he wasn’t talking to her. He was talking to… himself? His voice trembled as he repeated the words, like a broken record. "What’s the matter, Aegon? No. I’m not gonna hurt you. Come here. Come on. What’s the matter?"

Y/N felt her stomach twist as the phrases spilled out of his mouth over and over again, each repetition more unsettling than the last. It wasn’t Aegon’s voice. It was someone else’s, echoing through his broken mind.

She watched in horror as he hugged his knees tighter, his entire body trembling. "I’m not gonna hurt you, Aegon. See? That wasn’t bad," he whispered, tears streaming down his bruised face. "That wasn’t bad. That wasn’t bad."

It hit her like a punch to the gut. This wasn’t some act, some manipulation. Aegon had been abused—horribly, painfully, to the point where his mind had fractured. And now, as he sat on the floor, shaking and crying, he was reliving it. Over and over again.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She had never seen him like this. She had never imagined this side of him—the scared, broken side. The side that had been hurt so deeply that he could only repeat the words of his abuser like a mantra.

Her heart pounded in her chest, her hands shaking as she stood there, unsure of what to do. Part of her still hated him—still wanted to scream at him, to blame him for everything. But another part of her… felt something else. Something terrifying and sad.

She knelt down beside him, her voice soft and hesitant. "Aegon…"

He didn’t respond, just kept rocking back and forth, his tears falling faster now.

"I’m not gonna hurt you," he whispered again, his voice trembling. "See? That wasn’t bad."

She swallowed hard, her mind racing. "Aegon," she said softly, "I’m not going to hurt you either. It’s okay."

He didn’t seem to hear her. He was too far gone, lost in whatever memory had taken over his mind. His eyes stared blankly at the floor, wide and terrified, as if he were seeing something she couldn’t.

She reached out slowly, carefully, placing a hand on his shoulder. He flinched at the touch, his whole body recoiling, but she didn’t pull away.

"Aegon," she whispered again, trying to keep her voice steady. "It’s okay. You’re safe here."

But he wasn’t safe. Not really. Not with whatever had broken him, not with the darkness that clung to him like a shadow.

He rocked back and forth, mumbling, "Come here. Come on, what’s the matter, Aegon? No, no, no, I’m not gonna hurt you."

Y/N felt a chill run down her spine, her heart pounding in her chest. Whoever had done this to him—whoever had hurt him—had left a mark that ran deeper than anything she could understand.

For the first time, she realized she wasn’t dealing with just a stalker or a psychopath. Aegon was something much darker, much more broken than she had ever imagined.

She swallowed hard, trying to push the fear out of her voice. "Aegon," she said quietly, "It’s okay. You don’t have to be afraid."

But as his sobs grew louder, as he curled tighter into himself, Y/N knew that nothing she said could reach him.

The real Aegon—the one who had tormented her, who had done horrible things—was still there, somewhere. But so was this… this terrified boy, trapped in his own mind.

And she didn’t know which one scared her more.

Y/N swallowed down the terror rising in her throat, her hand trembling as she reached out to softly pet Aegon’s head. At first, he flinched, his body jerking away from her touch. But then, as if something clicked in his broken mind, he looked up at her—really looked—and his tear-streaked eyes seemed to recognize her for the first time. His lips trembled as he whispered her name, broken, like a child.

“Y/N…”

Before she could react, he clung to her, his body collapsing into her lap, his head pressed against her chest. He sobbed quietly, his whole body shaking, his hands clutching her as if she were the only thing keeping him grounded. She froze for a moment, completely caught off guard, but then instinct took over, and she wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly. His tears soaked through her clothes, and she could feel the tremors in his frail, battered form.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, stroking his hair, trying to calm him. “It’s okay, Aegon. You’re safe now.”

His sobs eventually began to quiet, his breathing slowing as she rocked him gently, her voice soft in his ear. “Shh… it’s okay. I’ve got you.”

For a long time, they stayed like that—her holding him, him clinging to her like a lifeline. The moments stretched into eternity, and Y/N could feel his grip slowly loosen as the storm inside him settled. He pulled away slightly, his eyes red and swollen from crying, but he refused to meet her gaze, his head turning away as he tried to wipe at the tears that continued to fall.

“Aegon…” she began softly, “What happened to you? Who did this?”

He didn’t answer. He just stared at the floor, his jaw tight, struggling to control the tears still running down his face.

“Aegon, please…” she pressed, her voice gentle but firm. “You have to tell me.”

For a moment, it seemed like he might respond, but then he muttered something, barely audible. “I… I hate it. When she… when my mother does horrible things to me.”

Y/N felt her breath catch. His mother? She had always known that Aegon’s relationship with his family was fraught, but this? There was something darker here, something that had broken him in ways she couldn’t fathom.

“But it’s okay,” Aegon continued, his voice shaking. “Because I love her. And that’s what matters, right?”

“No Aegon–”

"I didn’t mean to hurt you, Y/N," Aegon said suddenly, his voice softer now, almost childlike. "I was angry that night, but I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just wanted to hurt him. I didn’t like the way he looked at you. The way he touched you."

She swallowed hard, her voice barely a whisper. "Aegon…"

He turned to her then, his bloodshot eyes wide and full of sincerity. "You can hit me, you know. I won’t stop you. You were so angry, I could see it. You can hit me if it makes you feel better."

Y/N’s blood ran cold. "What? No, Aegon, I’m not—"

"You can," he repeated, almost eagerly. "It’s okay. You’re mad at me. You can hit me." He smiled then, a soft, unnerving smile that made her stomach churn. "I won’t even flinch. I promise."

"Aegon, that’s not—"

“You can beat me if it makes you feel better,” he continued, his voice unnervingly soft, as though he were offering her a gift. “It’s okay. I’ll let you do it. I deserve it, right?”

The pit in Y/N’s stomach twisted. His words, his tone—it was as if he was trying to convince himself, not her. Like he was rationalizing the abuse he had endured.

He turned his head just slightly, enough to glance at her from the corner of his eye. “You’re like me,” he whispered.

Her body tensed at his words. “What… what do you mean?”

He wiped at his face with trembling fingers, still not fully meeting her eyes. “Even though your boyfriend hurt you… you still think about him, don’t you?”

Y/N’s blood ran cold. She felt the fear creeping back in—the terror that had been gnawing at her ever since the day the dead doves appeared at her door. The stalker. The horror. It was all coming back.

Aegon finally looked up at her, his eyes glittering with something dark, something sinister. “You love him… don’t you?”

She opened her mouth to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. Her heart was hammering in her chest, the air thick with a suffocating dread.

Aegon’s lips twisted into a smile—that smile. The one she had seen before, the one that sent chills down her spine.

“I hate him,” Aegon said softly, his voice dripping with venom. “I hate the way he treats you. The way he talks to you. Hurts you. He doesn’t deserve you.”

Y/N’s breath hitched. She could feel her pulse quickening, her mind racing, trying to piece together what he was saying—what he was implying.

“Do you know,” Aegon asked, his tone disturbingly calm, “why he hasn’t answered your calls?”

Her stomach dropped.

She hadn’t heard from her boyfriend in days. He had stormed out after their last argument, refusing to answer her desperate calls or texts. She had been terrified, worried sick about him—about what he was thinking, about whether he’d come back. But now, sitting here, listening to Aegon, that fear morphed into something far worse.

He couldn’t have. He wouldn’t have.

Her entire body went cold.

“What… what do you mean?” she stammered, her voice barely a whisper.

Aegon’s smile widened, his eyes gleaming with something inhuman, something evil. He didn’t answer directly—he didn’t have to. The look in his eyes told her everything.

He leaned back, his voice light and playful now, like they were discussing a joke. “Did you open the gift I left for you?”

Her heart nearly stopped.

Gift? What gift? She hadn’t seen anything—hadn’t thought about it. But then, the morning came flooding back to her. The moment she had left the house, her mind too wrapped up in her terror and paranoia to notice anything out of place.

Her blood ran cold as her mind raced with horrible possibilities. The gift. What if it wasn’t just some harmless object? What if it was—

No. No, no, no.

She stood up so fast that she almost tripped, her eyes wide with panic. Aegon was laughing now—a soft, eerie laugh that filled the room, the sound making her skin crawl.

“Oh, Y/N,” he cooed, his voice mocking. “You really should check your door more carefully in the mornings.”

Her mind was spinning, her heart racing. She had to get out. She had to leave. She couldn’t stay here—not with him, not with his laughter ringing in her ears, the sick grin spreading across his bruised face.

She grabbed her keys from the desk, her hands shaking so badly she nearly dropped them. Aegon was still sitting there, watching her with that horrifying smile, his eyes gleaming with delight.

“You’ll thank me later,” he called after her as she bolted for the door.

Her mind was screaming, her heart pounding in her chest as she tore through the office, slamming the door behind her. His laughter echoed in her ears, following her down the hallway, filling her with a terror so deep she could barely breathe.

And as she ran, the only thought in her mind was the horrifying possibility of what she would find when she opened that gift.

Should I make a part 4?

@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

[simplyholl]

Happily Never After Pt. 1

Summary: A marriage proposal from Prince Loki is every princess's dream come true, except for yours.

Pairing: Asgard Loki x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ ONLY. Loss of Virginity.

W/C: 3.4K

A/N: This will be two parts!

See My Masterlist Here

"Married to Prince Loki?!" You shriek. It was the most absurd thing you had ever heard. "Stop being dramatic, dear. You two are very close. Since Prince Thor is already promised, this is the best match we could secure. Your father and I thought you would be happy considering he is your friend, and not a stranger."

"We used to be close! That was ages ago! I loathe him, mother. This is unfair. I would rather marry a stranger." You protest, wiping your sweaty palms on your long gown as you pace the room. "Why do you hate him? We just visited them last week." She tries to reason with you.

"You said yourself he was your best friend. Do you not recall the tears you shed when your father forbid you from spending time with him unchaperoned?" She pours herself more tea, waiting for your reply. "Yes, well he was my best friend. He's a different person now. I barely know him." You look out of your window, the palace in clear view of your own estate.

Your father was king of a neighboring realm, when the ogres attacked, forcing your family to seek safety in Asgard. You were welcomed with open arms. Frigga and your mother became fast friends. Odin relied on your father's knowledge of the other realms' customs, so he became valuable to him. Frigga invited your mother for tea every day. She insisted your mother bring you along since she had two boys close to your age you could play with.

Thor was older, more focused on playing rough with the other boys. He never paid attention to you. Loki was only a year older than you. You often found him reading under a tree instead of playing. He didn't notice you at first until you insisted the older boys let you play. Volstagg accidentally knocked you to the ground.

When Loki heard you crying, he stood up for you even though Volstagg towered over all of you. He was an unusually large child. Loki brought you to his favorite hiding place. Deep in the woods behind the palace there was a treehouse. He explained that he often came there for solace. It was built for Odin thousands of years ago when he was a child.

Thor didn't like to play there because it was too far from the palace. He thought he would get in trouble. One evening, Loki lost track of time and fell asleep in the treehouse. When he was finally found, Frigga had the place cleaned up, so it wouldn't be dangerous. Ever since that day, you and Loki were inseparable. You used the treehouse as a secret lair for you two to spend time alone.

The other children didn't play with you. They only played with Loki because they were scared of Odin. You understood each other completely. You would make up stories and put on one person plays to share your creativity. You grew up together. It went from playing as children, to hiding out in the tree house after mandatory appearances at balls. You despised when your father wanted you to meet other royals. He would force you to dance with their sons. After two dances, you and Loki would slip away to your private place.

You would laugh about the cheesy things they said to impress you. You would never forget the first time your heart skipped a beat. You were laughing about the visiting prince who told you your gown was lovely. It was the most hideous shade of lime green the seamstress could find. You had requested it that way, so you could hide your beauty. You wiped tears of laughter from the corners of your eyes as you told Loki your reasoning for the unpleasing color.

"You should have known you couldn't hide beauty like yours even in that atrocious gown." His sentiment made you blush, your heart stopped beating as he held your gaze. His eyes lingered on your lips for a few seconds too long. You were sure he was going to kiss you. You closed your eyes in anticipation, feeling his face draw closer to yours. Then you were interrupted by Thor bellowing down below. Your father was looking for you.

You wouldn't be allowed out of his sight if he caught you out there. When you got home, you wrote everything down in your diary. How Loki had made you feel beautiful for the first time in your life, how you wished Thor and your father would have waited moments longer. The next day your father called you into his study, your diary in hand. Oh, how you wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole.

"I forbid you to see him ever again." Your father's stern words instantly made you cry. Loki was everything to you. You couldn't lose him. You told him it was just a silly crush. That what you had written was just a fantasy you made up. He finally believed your lies, but now you couldn't be with him unless you were chaperoned.

Hundreds of years went by, you were as close as ever. You still found your way around the chaperones. You would sneak out at night meeting at the treehouse. You would stay up half the night together laughing as you did when you were children. He would have you back in your bed before sunrise. You always thought it was unfair that you had to be chaperoned, but Loki could do as he pleased.

Then came your first heartbreak. A visiting prince had met you at one of Frigga's balls. He immediately asked your father to court you. You were devastated. You didn't want to be courted. You were happy with your life. But your father couldn't wait to marry you off. But the more time you spent with the prince, the more you liked him. He had dark hair and blue eyes, sometimes you pretended he was Loki.

But he wasn't and there was your whole problem. No one would compare to Loki. But if you had to marry someone, at least the prince was nice. The prince would often find you with Loki going on strolls through the gardens, eating, and reading in silence. One evening, he visited your estate. He said he wanted to end this courtship. You couldn't think of anything you did wrong. He explained that he was certain your affection lied elsewhere, and he wanted to be the only man in his future bride's life. You didn't understand what he had meant, but you thanked him. You were free once again.

Then the latest scandal sheet was delivered by your maid. It mentioned how you and the prince were getting close. You rolled your eyes, thankful that was over. But when you reached the last paragraph, your whole world shattered. Prince Loki had been seen at the brothel three times this week. Not only that, but he had been caught with an unnamed maid in his mother's garden.

It wasn't uncommon for royalty to fuck around like whores, but this truly wounded you. You cried for a week after it came out. Your mother thought you were upset over the prince ending your courtship, so she explained there would be other princes. You didn't visit Loki for three months after the scandal sheet came out.

Another one hundred years passed, and you had grown used to Loki's womanizing. You were at the market, Loki carrying your basket filled with trinkets, winking at the unsuspecting maidens. He made note of the ones he wanted to bed later. You rolled your eyes, as you handed your coins to the shopkeeper, peeling the orange you just purchased.

"Really Loki, can you go one minute without finding four new lovers?" You joked. "Jealous?" He smirked. "Of course not, don't be ridiculous." "The only reason you are not overcome with jealousy is because you do not know what I am capable of carnally." The bite of orange you had just taken lodged down your throat causing you to choke. Loki smiled, pleased with himself.

"Of course, I wouldn't know that, or care to find out. You shouldn't speak of such things so loudly. What if someone heard you?" You looked around, your maid, Greta had her eyes on the ground pretending she wasn't listening. Loki walked over to her, dropping a few coins into her hand, and whispering to her. You watch as she goes to the next vender looking at the silks.

Loki grabs your arm, leading you behind a tent. "Aren't you curious? Your parents keep you in the dark, only for the bumbling fool you end up marrying to spill his seed in a matter of minutes." You would be like the other princesses, not knowing what to expect on your wedding night, if it wasn't for Loki. He had told you all about the act some hundred years ago, so you would know what to expect. You were thankful for that, at least.

But now, when he was looking at you like that, and speaking of such things, you wished you didn't know. "You won't experience pleasure with them. They just want to produce an heir, and once that's taken care of, he will get a mistress. I don't want that for you. I hope that you find a love match, but that is highly unlikely considering your father allows anyone with a title to court you."

You consider Loki's words as he leans in, his breath tickling your ear. "Let me show you what you are missing. I'll make it good for you. You deserve to experience mind blowing sex at least once in your life." He was the devil himself; you were sure of it. He was so tempting. You knew he was experienced, and women threw themselves all over him everywhere you went. He had to be good at it.

"I - I'm not sure. I would be ruined if anyone found out. My father would kill you.” You whisper, just in case someone was listening. "That's not a problem, I would just marry you before your reputation took a hit." He smiles as if what he said wasn't crazy. "Loki, I couldn't ask you to do that. To be honest, I am frightened. Not of you, but of the act itself. It doesn't sound like it would be pleasurable. Oh, but it must be if every eligible maiden in the kingdom lets you have your way with them."

You continue your ranting until Loki grabs your hand. "I would be gentle with you. We could start slowly. We would only do what you are comfortable with." You agreed to meet him at the treehouse that night. When you're back in your chambers you call Greta in to question her.

"Greta, have you had sex before?" She gasps, looking everywhere but at you. "My lady, that is not appropriate." You sit on your bed, gesturing for her to sit beside you. "Oh, spare me, we have known each other since we were girls. So out with it." You fold your arms across your chest waiting for her to answer.

"Yes, there was one man." She answers, her cheeks turning red. "Greta! Who was it?" She smiles, "Bart, the baker's son. We had a lovely couple of months together, but then he married the butcher's daughter. You see, men are fickle creatures. They use you until they find someone else. So be warned, my lady, keep your heart out of it. Men can have sex without emotions, and us women, well we often times end up heartbroken."

Greta's words repeated in your head all afternoon. You had known Loki for centuries, so you didn't think he would hurt you. But you were tempted to turn around, go back to your chambers and pretend like none of this ever happened. Luckily, he was in the treehouse waiting for you, so you couldn't leave now.

"It has been brought to my attention that men will do this with anyone, so I know it will mean nothing to you. And apparently, it will mean everything to me. I just don't want to regret this." You confide in Loki. "My darling girl, this will mean everything to me too. You are far too precious to me for it to mean nothing. We don't have to do anything if that is what you wish."

"I think you are right. I deserve to feel pleasure, and I trust you. I'm just nervous." Loki cups your face in his hands, bringing himself closer to you. It was so similar to that night when you were teenagers, your stomach erupts in butterflies. You never imagined the cute, gangly boy you knew so long ago would grow into the devilishly handsome man before you.

He kisses you, and it is exactly how you had always imagined. It was as if no time had passed between the moment when he almost kissed you centuries ago and now. You felt exactly the same. When he finally breaks the kiss, you look at him with wide eyes. If just his kiss could make you feel like this, you were in trouble.

Loki sat you down on the old mat you used to read on as children. It had fresh linen on it. Loki must have put it on before your arrival. He pressed kisses to your neck, sharp teeth nipping at your exposed skin. He had you sit up so he could undo your dress, nimble fingers working quickly on your corset until all your clothing was sat aside. You were bare for the first time in front of a man, but you were not ashamed. You should have attempted to cover yourself, but when Loki looked at you like you were a priceless painting, you felt no need to.

Loki took his time kissing every part of you. He toyed with your nipples, and you felt yourself growing wet. When he lowered his head to take one between his lips, you finally understood why all those maidens would jump at his beck and call. He kissed his way down your stomach, nipping your upper thigh. He spread your legs apart, pleased with your arousal dripping down your thighs.

"May I?" He asks, pink tongue poking out to lick his bottom lip. You aren't sure what he is asking, but he knows what he is doing, so you give your consent. His tongue envelops you, sliding from your slit to your most sensitive part. "Loki!" You shout, as he continues exploring you. His tongue flicks your clit as your hands weave through his messy locks.

You never imagined it would be like this. And you suppose if it wasn't for Loki, you would never know. He slips a long finger inside you as he continues licking you, He stretches you, placing another finger inside. You jolt at the intrusion, his fingers curling to caress your walls. You feel like you are about to explode.

"Loki, I feel so wonderful." You tell him. His lips suction around your clit, tugging while his fingers work their magic. Stars explode behind your eyes as your first orgasm rips through you. Loki waits until you finish writhing on his face before coming up for air. He wipes your arousal off his face with the back of his hand.

You think that has to be the most attractive thing you have ever seen. But you are proven wrong when Loki undresses. He has filled out since the last time you saw him shirtless, when you were swimming as teenagers. He drops his trousers, hard cock springing free. You gasp when you see the size of him. You were beyond thankful he told you about the differences between men and women so long ago. What a surprise this would be if he hadn't.

"You still have time to change your mind, love. Just say the word and I will stop." He stalks toward you, lowering himself to the mat. "Please do not stop." You say breathlessly. Loki chuckles, settling between your thighs. "This will hurt, but only for a moment. Tell me when you are ready for me to move."

Loki sinks into you, pressure and pain causing you to cry out. "I'm so sorry. I can't help it. It will feel better soon, I promise." You grit your teeth as Loki bottoms out. He stills inside you, waiting for you to give him permission to move. You take a minute, adjusting to his size, before you tell him you are alright.

Loki slowly removes himself before filling you completely again. After a few thrusts, it starts to feel good. "Faster, Loki, please." You beg, clawing at his back as he ravishes you. His hand comes down between your joined bodies, skilled fingers swirling against your clit. The feeling you had earlier comes back full force, another orgasm sending you soaring. Loki pulls out, finishing on the fresh linen on the mat. You lay there, breathing heavily, looking at Loki. He truly is beautiful. "Shall we go again?" He asks, his signature smirk returning.

Loki laid with you three more times before the sun rose. He walked you back to your estate, making sure you made it inside safely before walking back to the palace. The next day, you were excited to see Loki. You secretly hoped you would spend the day in the treehouse.

"Mary was looking for you." Fandral tells Loki, raising his eyebrows suggestively. "Well, you can tell her I never wish to see her again. She is of no use to me anymore." They laugh in unison, walking away as you round the corner. "Has someone finally caught your eye?" Fandral smiles. "Actually, I plan on asking the princess to marry me." Loki shocks Fandral who places a hand over his heart.

"Did you hear that, Greta?" You ask your maid, unwanted tears filling your eyes. "Yes, my lady." She answers. "Repeat what you heard please."

"Prince Loki said "You can tell her I never wish to see her again. She is of no use to me anymore." She looks at you with pity. "That's what I heard too. Oh, Greta." You collapse into her arms, sobbing. "Let's go home, my lady. We mustn't let the prince see that he has hurt you."

From that moment on, things were very different between you and Loki. He demanded to know why you avoided him now and why you never had a kind word for him. You never answered because he knew what he had done. He just didn't know you heard him talking about you. That was five months ago. Now, Odin was ordering him to marry and they had chosen you of all people.

If this happened before you would be ecstatic. Now, it makes you sick thinking about being alone with him. You had no choice. Your father had been trying to marry you off for centuries, and you always got out of your courtships somehow. You suspected Loki had a hand in it. But now that he wanted to marry you, there was no getting out of it.

You were expected at the palace by noon tomorrow. You paced the floor so many times, your footprints were probably embedded into the floor. Then you had the perfect idea. You would run away.

The next day everyone awaited your arrival. Your mother and father sat with Frigga and Odin having tea while they waited. Thor patted Loki on the back. "Finally, brother. Everyone saw this coming. I am very happy for you." Loki brought his cup to his lips, when a timid knock on the door interrupted them. He jumps up, rushing to let you inside. Instead of you, he is greeted by Greta. "Forgive the intrusion, your highness. It's the princess she ran away." Greta hands Loki the letter you left.

She sniffles, worried about you. While he reads the note, your father and Odin start planning on sending knights to find you. Frigga comforts your mother. "What does it say?" Thor asks, peeking over Loki's shoulder.

Greta, I cannot marry that pompous ass. I would rather live amongst the pigs. Do not bother looking for me, because you will never find me. Tell mother and father I love them dearly. Thank you Greta, for everything. I wish I could have taken you with me. All my love.

"No need to create a search team, father. I will find her myself." Loki states, leaving the room.

Tags

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[fictoculus]

౨ৎ genshin men; love languages...

send a request!┊masterlist┊taglist applications

FEAT... aether, albedo, alhaitham, ayato, childe, diluc, gorou, heizou, itto, kaeya, kaveh, kazuha, neuvillette, scara, thoma, tighnari, wriothesley, venti, xiao, xingqiu, zhongli

A/N... ohemgee kaede is back ?!! i'm sorry it's been so longggg i've really missed writing, i think i js kinda lost my spark for a bit but i should be back to posting nowww hooray !! even if i don't come backkk (since i'm not fully certain) i hope you can still enjoy these hc drabble thingies nd also my previous works, thank you ♡

✧ quality time.

he wants nothing more than to spend time with you, to smell the sweet fragrance of your perfume as it dances in the gentle breeze. he wants to watch as your hair flows gently, each strand delicately swaying back and forth, as if to mimic the way he swings his arms when his hand is holding yours. just being around you gets him all excited, though you'll never catch him actually admitting it. he has countless photos of the two of you together, each one connected with a memory that will stay with him forever. he often finds himself looking over them late at night when he's missing you, wishing you were there to hold him, or tell him about your interests, even sitting in silence would suffice. he just wants to be with you, whether that be studying, sleeping, reading, shopping, eating - he doesn't care, he'll do anything as long as it's with you..

xiao, alhaitham, aether, heizou, wriothesley + your favs

✧ gift giving.

it's almost like routine. at least once a fortnight, he comes knocking on your door with some sort of gift, stops you in the corridor with a bag full of goodies, or has a huge bouquet of your favourite flowers delivered straight to your front door when he's unable to come see you. he goes through a lot of trouble behind the scenes to get these things together for you, but it's all worth it when he sees that pretty smile light up your face, eyes glistening with pure excitement as you see whatever he's prepared for you. his eyes, on the other hand, are full of love as he sees the outcome of his hard work; your happiness is of utmost importance to him. the gifts he gives come in all different shapes and sizes, anything from a snack you'd said you'd been craving to a ridiculously expensive piece of jewellery, but you know that no matter what it is, he put so much thought and care into picking it out for you; that's what mattered to you most. even if he didn't shower you in his love this way, you wouldn't love him any less - of course you wouldn't. you care about him, not the things he gives you (though you really do appreciate them). he loves you more than words can say, and this is his way of showing it.

zhongli, ayato, albedo, neuvillette + your favs

✧ physical touch.

he's all over you. from the second you wake up to the moment you drift off to sleep. 24/7. he just can't get enough. he's practically addicted to your warmth, the softness of your skin, scars and all. it no longer comes as a surprise when you feel his arms snake around your waist from behind, or even when he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his hair tickling your cheek as he moulds around your figure. he can't seem to stay away from you. the second he hears your voice, or the mention of your name, even your footsteps (yes, he knows), he comes rushing over, immediately insisting on intertwining his fingers with yours. your contact is replenishing to him. no matter how tired he is or how many hardships he had to face that day, feeling you run your hands up and down his back or cup his cheeks, his mood is immediately uplifted.

itto, childe, diluc, tighnari, kaeya, kaveh + your favs

✧ words of affirmation.

"i love you" "i love you" "i love you" it's constant, over and over and over. he repeats it a thousand times, as if it's an ancient incantation, but he still doesn't think it's enough. he just wants you to know how perfect you are, how beautiful you are, how easy to love you are; he wants you to see yourself the way he sees you. he's desperate to talk about you, to tell someone how much he loves you, and who else would he tell than the person he trusts most? and so, when the two of you are finally snuggled up close, he'll whisper in your ear the most poetic words you've ever heard, trying his best to capture your essence, though to him, it always feels just out of reach. he knows he'll never be able to truly explain how he feels about you, because there are no words for that feeling he gets in his heart when he hears your voice, or lays his eyes on you, let alone thinks about you. he recites your own stories and little habits back to you as if you're a complete stranger to yourself, and honestly, you can't help but find it endearing. he loves you so much, and he always knows the perfect things to say to see that smile he treasures deep in his heart.

kazuha, xingqiu, zhongli, venti, neuvillette + your favs

✧ acts of service.

sure, he may not be so good with words, but not to worry, he makes up for it one way or another. it's the little things for him. every morning without fail, he'll pack your lunch and leave it on the kitchen counter for you, a little memo hidden inside signed off with his initials and a small doodle, as always. he'll iron your clothes and hang them in your wardrobe, all neat and tidy for when you get dressed the next day. he'll get up 15 minutes earlier than when you usually arise, cooking breakfast for you and letting the scent of crisp bacon waft into the bedroom and wake you from your slumber. he'll do anything for you, big or small; he just wants to make sure you know how much he loves you.

scara, thoma, alhaitham, diluc + your favs

thanks for reading ♡ want to read more? my requests are OPEN, so please feel free to let me know what you’d like me to write next!

TAGLIST…@maopll . @nyxmainex . @avensuersa . @moondrop-gummies. @lacunaanonymoused apply here

© FICTOCULUS 2024; please do not steal, translate, or repost my works as your own

[lisafication]

This post is uh, extremely normal I swear

So hello yes I am absolutely On My Bullshit regarding my new favourite game. 

That’s right, it’s the cannibal incest game, The Coffin of Andy and Leyley. And I’m here to shove five thousand words of pretentious analysis down your throat because, and I do not exaggerate, I think it is one of, if not the best written game I have ever played. And I have played a lot of games, including Baldur’s Gate 3, Final Fantasy XIV and Undertale, to name a few narrative luminaries to come to mind.

That wordcount is not an exaggeration. My brainworms are extremely powerful and now you can share them with me as I walk you through my insane skyscraper of inference-driven analysis.

Or you can click away. I really wouldn’t blame you, it’s quite a lot.

Content Warnings: …Yes?

(To drop the bit for a moment, The Coffin of Andy and Leyley covers extremely disturbing material and challenges you to examine aspects of living in this world that many have taken for granted all their life, it is not a comfortable game, this will cover similar topics and will often echo the game’s unremitting scepticism on basic principles of society and humanity and you should look after yourself first. My Content Warning is framed as a joke, but it’s also quite real in that the game is designed to make you uncomfortable and there’s no shame in that not being for you.)

This was originally posted on and formatted for Sufficient Velocity, and you can probably more easily read and discuss it with me here.

With that said, let’s dig in. I have had to split this into multiple posts because tumblr will only allow so many images. There will be spoilers for all endings.

She’s excited, are you?

It’s All About Ashley

It really is, isn’t it? I mean, for approximately eighty percent of the total game as currently released and the entirety of Episode 1, you’re in control of Ashley, just as she’s in control of her and Andrew’s relationship for 80% of the game, up until the various ending sequences where it begins to slip. The only other characters who really matter at all in and of themselves are Andrew and her mother — and the former is under her thumb, and she eats the latter. It’s all about Ashley. Even her obsession with Andrew is, ultimately, about Ashley.

But who is Ashley? What is Ashley? Why is Ashley, even? Let’s take a look.

Ashley as presented to us in Episode 1 is very straightforward, so let’s list off the traits we’re given — she is malicious, she is fearless, she lacks empathy, she doesn’t have anything resembling a conscience, she demands Andrew belong to her and her alone, she has him at her beck and call.

In Episode 2, we’re ostensibly shown how she has him at her beck and call— she leverages the threat of reporting Nina’s death over him and had him swear to be with her forever. We’re shown that even as a child she was “just, like that” — but as a child, she hadn’t learnt to live with it yet, to laugh at the farce of it all.

Yeah, exactly like that!

And she does this throughout Episode 1 — The Coffin of Andy and Leyley is a remarkably silly game much of the time, finding moments of absurdity and levity against a backdrop blacker than pitch — and most of the time, your internal narration is coming from Ashley and the jokes will not-infrequently come at her own expense.

She will later get negged by her human sacrifice for her poor ritual circle drawing

Her reaction to being told that her soul is as dark and viscous as tar is “You guess you already knew that” — it’s confirmation to her, not new information. Ashley knows who she is. But who taught her this? There’s layers to this, nothing in this game is as simple and straightforward as it appears at first sight, which is why I’ve been obsessing over it for days.

While it’s common in fiction, the truth of the matter is, most ‘bad people’ really do think they’re good people. But Ashley has never once thought of herself as a good person — or perhaps better put as a person worthy of love — as we learn across Episodes 1 & 2, with our flashbacks to Andy and Leyley and the VERY VERY QUIET!!!

I really wish I had space in this essay to talk about this, but I’d like to touch on these being traits usually more easily forgiven in young boys than young girls at some point.

If she removes all other options, only then can she expect him to like her.

This is something that is echoed in the modern day — her seeming self-assurance is easily shaken and she reaches out to the world — usually Andrew — to affirm and validate her, soothing her insecurities, using any tool she deems necessary. Even when her life is on the line when Andrew has her by the throat at the climax of Episode 1, the only ‘compelling reason’ she can give Andrew to not kill her is her ability to soothe his nightmares. When he tells her there are sleeping pills for that…

Most people would have a bit more to argue for their existence.

While she, unlike Andrew, acknowledges having had friends before the quarantine… you know she’s got a point that they didn’t even bother to answer her calls, that was clearly not something the state was interfering with given Andrew’s calls with his mother and his girlfriend, and given her general demeanour it’s not hard to imagine that… they weren’t ever very close. When we see her and Nina talk in the infamous ‘box scene’, it’s clear that Nina doesn’t like her very much, despite Andrew’s assessment of Nina as being one of Ashley’s friends.

We see further support for her general lack of companionship in her dream sequence in the Burial route — Leyley and Leyley Alone. No matter what you do, you can’t place the pink plushy at the family table, the flowers won’t bloom if you give the Julia and Nina plushies her own as a companion instead of Andrew’s — and if you’re bold enough to go for the ‘incest route’, in the ‘Love’ room you see that no one ever looks happy to be with her in the childlike depictions of her history, nor is she happy in turn, save for when she’s with Andrew. In a bit of heavy-handed metaphor, the player then overwrites all of these tense, upset, hard moments with Andrew, having him fill in for everyone else in life — and happy with her.

Once Upon A Lousy Life…

THE END

And that’s why she needs him to affirm her, because no one else ever has and no one else ever will. It’s even included in their comic beats — when the siblings are getting along well, they’ll often play a game where Andrew dramatically overpraises Ashley while she demands more; it’s a comedic bit but I mean — it really does matter to her!

For the record, she opened a door. She gets a little heart in a speech bubble after this exchange.

We have a great example of this dynamic, that of insecurity and affirmation, in Episode 1, after Andrew has killed for her, butchered for her, his girlfriend broke up with her, he’s seemingly thrown his entire life away for her… she’s still insecure over her relationship with him, she’s uncertain of her control and she needs him to reaffirm it for her.

This is her victory, surely?

Andrew affirms her once, with his usual dead-eyed look.

But she's still not so sure.

He actively reaches out to affirm her again with cheer.

Look how happy she is!

While it’s most obvious and clear cut here, it’s hardly the only case. Let’s look back to the aftermath of Andy and Leyley and the VERY VERY QUIET!!! (I’m not using the other name). Leyley is, after similarly extreme acts — he murdered a girl and hid her body for her — convinced Andy doesn’t like her and she needs this leverage to keep him around, to meet her basic needs for survival. Because that’s what this is — she receives no care of affection elsewhere, so she forces it out of the only source she sees available through the means she sees as necessary.

I really hope we see some of their earlier childhood in Episode 3

What exactly made her like this? Was it just neglect, or something more specific…

She needs this to be the case because otherwise she doesn’t believe he’d stay.

This pattern repeats throughout — Ashley’s insecurities are hit on and she reaches out to Andy to affirm that she is not alone, and she will use any and every tool to exploit her ostensible control over him and force him to be what she needs him to be — and as long as she has that, as long as she is everything to him and it’s not possible for him to leave, she’s happy. As long as she thinks he loves her in her very particular, very peculiar view of love, she’s content, come what may. As long as Andy and Leyley are together, they can take on the world.

Let’s talk about that view of love, because there’s always more layers to unpack here I’m only scratching the surface with this essay — Ashley consistently refers to anyone else Andrew may have befriended or spent time with as a whore, a slut, a bitch — highly gendered insults that bring to mind the idea that he’s cheating in some way. But it’s not even about sex — when Andrew mentions that their parents had friends, she accuses them of cheating on each other in the same way!

There’s a lot to unpack about Ashley’s view of femininity and the role the patriarchy plays in their relationship.

Any kind of emotional engagement, any kind of commitment, any kind of life outside of your significant other is, to Ashley, cheating. Because that’s what she needs from Andrew, a seeming complete and total commitment, secure in her place as the only thing in his life, because she cannot understand anyone picking her if they have a choice.

This insecurity she has in her relationship is what drives her to empower the trinket — he can’t leave her as long as she can protect him with prophetic dreams, after all. She needs every kind of leverage she can get because until she succeeds in being everything to him, in devouring him so completely she has him in her thrall mind, body and soul she can’t be sure of herself — hell, her dream sequence in Burial has you placing Andrew’s signature green plushy, ‘the best thing in the world’ in a cage far away from anything else.

Ultimately, it really is all about Ashley — even her seeming obsession with Andrew ultimately comes back to her own insecurities. If she is everything to ‘the best thing in the world’, some of that ‘best’ must surely reflect on her! 

But that’s enough about the more normal, straightforward and understandable sibling. 

That was not a joke.

Andrew’s Rank 100 Deception

The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world that he did not exist.

Let me explain.

You might have noticed that in the previous section I often use language such as ‘ostensibly’ or ‘seemingly’ to describe Andy and Leyley’s relationship, and there’s a good reason for that. From the beginning of the game through to its end, Andrew is lying to you, the player, without ever falsely representing or misinforming you about events that occurred.

The common, or obvious ‘initial take’ on Andrew as presented in Episode 1 is fairly straightforward. The game primes you to think this way, it frames things and strings reveals just right so as to make it very easy to overlook the incongruities it introduces in Episode 2. He’s a victim. Plain and simple, Ashley is his abuser and he is her victim and would be fine, a normal albeit kinda depressed guy without her.

It really is not a difficult conclusion to draw

You can go all the way through the game, have him try to accept his mother’s olive branch and enter the Decay route as a method for him to finally actualise his desire to get out from Ashley’s thumb and it makes sense, it’s a reasonable way for the story to go, given his character.

You see him this way because the game primes you in Episode 1 to view their relationship like Andrew does — he’s lying. He’s lying to himself, he’s lying to Ashley and he’s so good at it — Deception Rank 100 — he even lies to you. Without misrepresenting a single event or otherwise misleading you directly, the game gets you to buy into his preferred self-perception. Nina? Ashley. Julia? Ashley. The murders they commit in the course of the game? Ashley, Ashley, Ashley, it’s not his fault he’s not to blame he’s just a doormat at the beck and call of his demonic sister.

But he wants to be there. From the very outset, the very first puzzle, that’s made clear. Does anyone else remember this exchange, from right at the beginning of the game?

Ashley wants to investigate the music!

Andrew disapproves…

…Or does he?! 

Like. Listen. Okay. You do not frown when saying ‘Nope’ and then smile when saying that you’ll instead tag along if they do it if your heart is at all in the no. That’s not an objection, that’s using Ashley as his excuse. Especially if you immediately throw her the balcony key that she could not possibly have gotten from you by force (more on Andrew’s ability to use force later).

This is the very first time you control both characters together with Andrew following Ashley instead of off on his own, the first adventure, the first puzzle! 

But put a pin in that for now, let’s talk about his initial framing in Episode 2 first. Episode 1 has set us up to, generally speaking, believe the superficial framing of the siblings as portrayed in its promotional art:

The question that we then ask, right at the heart of it is… why is he a doormat? We explore this in his dream sequence in Episode 2, which does make it clear that the boy’s not okay but— it’s real easy, given the priming from Episode 1 to make you think that he’s the one with the originally functional moral compass, to think that that him being fucked up is damage done to him by Nina’s death and being bound to Ashley for his entire life. She corrupted him.

But, well, is that the case?

You're primed to ignore this as manipulation (which it is) but the best manipulation has some truth to it.

Precisely two things spur Andrew to action in the entire game, consistently — they are the fear of consequences and Ashley. And the first incident of that fear, the very first time we’re shown his seeming moral compass as a kid — the first time it’s really hammered home that it’s a fear of consequences rather than any true moral qualms is after Nina’s death. And why does he fear consequences here?

……

The ‘natural’ read that many take away from this sequence, particularly those who have only played Decay, is that Ashley browbeat him into doing this against his will, using emotional blackmail to overwhelm his objections, and then used the event itself to bind him to her forever as her personal doormat.

In a strict sense, this is true. But this doesn’t match up with the details, something the game uses shock to encourage you to overlook. That outburst is before any kind of threat has been made, and absolutely nothing either of them say anything about it being morally bad until Ashley weaponises ‘you’re a bad person’ against Andrew — morality didn’t seem to enter his mind or the equation at all until Ashley brought it up. More than that, his greatest fear and driving motivation even prior to that is, as shown above, being taken away from Ashley.

She, of course, recognises this and uses it against him. But she never needed to, it didn’t change anything about Andrew’s attachment to her, it was there to address her own insecurities.

Just like to touch on how a lot of his affirmations are preceded by him confirming her insecurities.

I adore this phrasing

There’s a second prong to this as well, to the question of ‘who really calls the shots here’ because — Andrew can, at any stage, apply an ‘ultimate veto’ of physical violence. The game is very clear to the player that that is on the table — even when they were children, when Andy swears their blood oath, he briefly considers killing her — and take note of how he ultimately got a ‘winning’ condition out of her by not specifying there wouldn’t be others and she is forced to accept that, there. Even outside of their most serious confrontations, Ashley is portrayed as having to convince, manipulate or otherwise coerce Andrew into going along with her schemes — she really can’t make him do anything, she doesn’t have the supremacy in violence and, to a lesser extent, capability that would allow her to. 

Andrew, you are like ten years old.

The truth of the matter is, Ashley can only make Andrew do anything because he lets her. I don’t mean in the sense that I’m saying abuse victims let their abusers emotionally abuse them, I mean in the sense that he is clearly considering his options on the table and choosing to discard those that could stop her, or bring an end to any of this. He needs her.

But it’s true that he hates her, too. He has to hate her, because if he doesn’t hate her, if he isn’t forced to have done this, that means… he’s responsible. And nothing, at the start of the story, is as important to Andrew as avoiding the consequences of his own actions, not even Ashley. By the midpoint, he loves her, he hates her, he can’t live without her, he wants to kill her — by the end… well, that depends if you’re on Decay or Burial, but more on that in a bit.

A great scene to study for this dynamic is the climax of Episode 1, when Andrew grabs Ashley by the throat and considers strangling her to death. She’s pushed him too far with hurtful words and assault, and he’s seemingly had enough.

It’s still framed as a question of risk, of consequences happening to him. 

Like, this is not the usual behaviour of someone who’s been pushed past their breaking point.

He tells Ashley that he wants to kill her, because she’s just going to throw another fit and that’s a risk to him. She is… not framed as being able to fight back (she does have a gun here, and more on that in a later essay, maybe). He’s so calculated in how he approaches his use of violence here, which isn’t at all what you’d expect of someone about to commit a crime of passion… but it’s very easy to overlook because of the abuser/victim narrative that the player fits his behaviour into the narrative that the game primes them to accept, brushing incongruities under the carpet.

At the start of Episode 2, we get to control Andrew for the first time, and the first obvious holes in his cover start to show. Some of this is optional — you only learn that he’s been faking having nightmares in order to share a bed with Ashley if you choose to go back into the motel room and check the bed, for example — but not all of it.

----(See reblogs for the second half)

[moechies]

Ur fav guy fucking his mom pls pls

౨ৎ ⋆ take it, mommy ! ꨄ shidou ryusei ꒰ DARK CONTENT ꒱

sypnosis: grimy shidou fuckin' his mommy :(

content warnings 𝜚 𓈒 1.4k words ꒱ ince$t, yandere themes, pwop, tons of kissing, groping, no prep, creampie, whiny needy ryu, name usage including . . mommy, mama

“ryusei ! get off me!”

“no.. i love you, love y’so much mommy. missed you soo much.” he purrs against your warm skin. his heavy body lays atop of you, keeping you still below him as he grabs at your face and pressing sloppy kisses anywhere he deems possible; like a bunny in heat.

“n-not now, ryusei, mommy’s got things to do, okay?”

“y’really can’t spend some quality time with your son?” he pouts, a sight you’re never used to seeing. it makes your heart ache, and you sigh.

“b-but, i have to cook—“

“i can help you with that later, ‘kay? jus’ miss you mama, don’t leave me.”

you shrivel under his touch, finding it hard to respond with anything other than your usual ‘yes, of course i won’t .’ he attempts to read into your expression, looking for any sign of reassurance. he sighs with relief when you smile, burying himself in the crook of your collarbone when you run a hand through the soft of his fluffy hair. because he knows, knows that you’ve fallen into his trap once again.

. . ♡

ryusei only loves you. maybe it’s the fact that you’re the only one out of thousands of individuals that he’s ever met, that has shown him unconditional love. spending the last 20 years of your life grooming him, nurturing him, regardless of anything that has happened within the span of his fucked up life, he’s never found another like his own mother.

he can’t help but love you more than a son should love his mother, clinging onto you at any moment given possible when he isn’t out solely to play soccer for his profession.

the brat almost always gets into dangerous situations after a bad game, rushing home to find comfort in his mothers presence, as well as in her sloppy cunt. you attempt to scold him, but everything simply goes in one ear and out the next when he’s desperate for some lovin’ from his mother.

“i know.. i know already, okay? jus’ missed you so much. couldn’t wait to come home..” he mumbles, pressing his hot lips against yours. it’s overwhelming, his soft hands roaming your body and groping the flesh of your tits from under your shirt, the soft fat of them falling in between his fingers. “really just missed you s’much mama. forgive me, ‘kay?”

how heartless would you be if you didn’t ?

♡ . .

“w’na make you feel good. can i , mommy ? please ? w’na have you so bad.” he whines, fingers tugging at your shirt, quickly pulling them above your tits causing you to squeal. he wastes no time listening to your complaints, whining about how he’s too crude, and how he needs to be patient, instead he quickly latches onto your swollen bud. his strained cock unwittingly humps into the sheets, the wet sticky patch that leaks from his cock head dirtying his boxers.

ones you’d have to wash later, and look back on the ‘guilt‘ of your two’s doings.

he’s messy, and his spit coats not only your puffy areola but the fat of your tit. he gropes at your tit simultaneously, causing you to arch your back away from the rough sensation.

“r-ryusei hnn— too rough.”

“sorryyy. . didn’t mean t’mommy.” he mumbles, catching your lips in a heated kiss.

meanwhile, his hand travels below, pulling himself out of the confinement of his boxers. he sighs into your mouth out of relief, the warmth of his shaft unintentionally rubbing against your naked thigh. it makes you whine, squeezing your eyes tight.

“ryusei..” you mumble into the kiss , catching his attention. “you’re such a good boy f’mommy baby.” you coo with a light smile. his gaze softens, an ill-intentioned grin that spreads across his face. he yearns for your free hand, intertwining his bigger fingers with yours.

“can i fuck you now ? please, can’t wait anymore. it hurts , mommy.” he whines, leading your gaze down below where he fervidly attempts to rub out the ache in his cock. it’s a sight you’ve seen many times before, but one that you’re never able to get used to.

he’s heavy, and thick, the rotund tip leaking of creamy pre. his balls swell with need, desperate for any sort of release. he’s thickest around the middle, veins bulging across the entirety of his fat shaft. you find yourself salivating at the sight, quickly tidying your appearance before he has time to make fun of your expression.

“such a pretty sight, baby.” you coo, hoisting yourself onto your forearms to press a soft kiss against his cheek.

“t-thank you, mommy.” he mumbles, a light blush of pink painting over his cheeks. he’s unable to look into you, embarrassed, but doesn’t waste time to press a kiss on the tip of your nose to show his appreciation.

he rubs the swollen head against the pudgy slit of your cunt waiting for approval, shivering when he feels his pre mix into the slick of your arousal. his grip on your hand grows tighter, attempting to press further into your silky cunt.

“mommy, please—“

“mhm, be good for mommy, okay? go ahead, p-put it in, ryusei.”

you find yourself barely able to breathe throughout the the desperation, watching as his pupils grow into large black voids, shaped into hearts.

he wastes no time, quickly guiding his cock into the depths of your cunt. the arousal caused upon his teasing causes a slip, his creamy head accidently nudging over your puffy clit, making you jolt against him. he mumbles out insincere apologies, head empty other than the thought of getting in his mother’s cunt.

he nearly cums when he successfully fucks into you, your tight walls pulsating and gripping around him like no other. you squeal at the stretch, free hand coming up to push at his chest in an attempt to slow his movements.

“wait— ryu !”

“mommy,” he whines, on the brink of tears. if his eyes hadn’t been rolled back into his fucking skull, you’d very obviously see tears beading in the socket of his rosy irises.

“r-ryu,” you cry. “feels s’ good. y-you’re making mommy feel so good..”

his chest swells with pride, yearning to hear more of your honey-like praises.

he humps into you lazily, his breaths heavy and to be heard from rooms away. minimal sweat beads across the crown of his forehead, his gaze pacing back and forth from your frenzied state to down below where you two connect.

your cunt accommodates his girth perfectly, fat folds stretching to painful limits just enough to fit his cock. every thrust leaves a coat of pearlescent cream around him forming a ring, slow dribbles of cum spilling down and coating the tight rim below.

“l-love you, only you, love your pussy s’much, i— thankyouthankyouthank—“ his rambles are stopped by a kiss, but to no avail as he continues chanting against your lips. his hands rub up on every inch of your skin desperately, roughly fondling your messy tits, eager to feel more.

“wan’ you to cum, please, cum ‘round me mama. please—“ he mumbles meekly into your neck, bodies held together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

his thrusts become heavy and sloppy, leaving no room for you to squirm away as he holds tight. “hnn— r-ryu, it hurts— think ‘m g-gonna cum,” you cry, shimmery tears dragging along your dewy cheek. red painful streaks paint the back of the football player, but he pays no mind.

“cum, mommy, cum on it.” he moans breathlessly.

you’d never miss a chance to. your cunt convulses around him violently, pushing him over the edge at the given moment. creamy cum coats the insides, painting your walls white as his fat load seems to be never ending, filling your little cunt to the brim.

“ryusei, t-too much! wait !”

“take i-it, pleasee hnn—, just be still and take it f’me—“

he holds you tight, hindering your attempt to scramble away from the feeling, being sure you feel every inch, every drop of his heavy load.

he withdraws his limp cock from you unwillingly, whining at the sensitivity when your cunt clenches around his swelled tip.

he light smile spreads across his lips as he watches his load leak out of you involuntarily, painting the sheets white. he does nothing to prevent the mess, simply watching from afar dreaming of doing it again.

“love you, mommy.” he speaks quietly, gently grabbing your face on both sides to pucker your swollen lips before pressing a heavy kiss. he adores your fucked out expression, barely awoke but still conscious enough to shoot him a smile, and a honeyed, “i love you too, ryusei. ♡”

“goodnight, mommy. sleep tight. ♡”

[suiana]

give me the camboy NOW

no

✎ yandere! camboy . . .

✎ yandere! camboy who's secretly your creepy coworker that just wants to love you. you don't know that of course! which is why... you spend all your money on him, or rather, his alter ego.

✎ yandere! camboy who's a famous streamer on the site he does his streams on. so many viewers, yet he only has eyes for one particular viewer. you.

✎ yandere! camboy who instantly knows that it's you. i mean, who else will have such an embarrassing username? like, ilovemanboobs? seriously? but it's whatever. it just means that he has another weakness of yours up his sleeve that he can use to his advantage.

✎ yandere! camboy who will take his time in easing you into loving him. he doesn't worry about you not loving him. after all, you already love one side of him. he's sure that as long as he plays his cards rught, you'll fall for all of him in no time. and he'll make it happen.

"yeah my day was pretty boring. didn't really do much."

the camboy complains, yawning as he unbuttons his shirt. yeah, today really was boring. it was just a boring day at work, nothing interesting and he didn't even get to see you! the light of his life!

oh whatever, at least he knows that you'll join his stream. you're a little simp for his online persona after all.

that's right, he had an online persona and you were down astronomically bad for it. you even spent thousands of dollars on him! and you were practically going broke because of it!

but oh, how it strokes his ego, knowing that you appreciate at least one part of him, even if you were unaware that it was him, your creepy coworker.

"oh, my ideal type?"

he asks, reading the chat as his toned abs and voluptuous man tits were out on display for all to see. really, he only wishes that you could see his body, but if he were to offer in real life you'd never agree.

the famous streamer hums, thinking for a second before answering in a soft tone.

"i like people that spend money on me."

yep, that was a safe bet. he couldn't risk exposing himself after all. and... it'll be sure to get your attention.

ah, there it comes.

your donations.

*ding! ding! ding!*

the influx of donations from a particular user (you) cause his laptop to chime endlessly. if it were anyone but you, he'd be annoyed. but this was you.

so he graciously accepts every donation, reading every message you send him as he slowly traces the hem of his boxer shorts. hm, maybe he should give you a gift? you're such a cute little simp after all...

"yeah, i guess you are my ideal type, userILOVEMANBOOBS~"

he answers with a chuckle, making eye contact with the camera through his mask. god you were so adorable. if only you knew the guy you were going crazy over was the coworker which you absolutely despised in real life.

"yes yes... I'll give you a little show, my dear. you spent so much money on me after all! it's only gentlemanly for me to do so."

he muses, stripping his boxers down as the chat goes wild. but his attention wasn't focused on them. no, not at all. for you were the only one he saw. you were the only one in his eyes.

and he just wishes you loved him back in real life as well.

but oh well. there's always been enough time for the both of you. enough time to teach you how to love him. enough time for you to accept him in his entirety.

there's always been enough time to get you to love him back.

and it will happen. there's nothing you can do to stop it.

[buckysbabygorl]

A Favour (Part 4)

Part 3

MAJOR SMUT ALERT

Summary: When secrets are revealed during girl’s night, Y/N takes action.

“Wow, talk about impulsive.”

Wanda wiggled further into her floor poof, noting to herself that she was definitely gifting Y/N new ones for Christmas.

“I know,” she filled up their glasses again. “I guess I dodged a bullet there. Still doesn’t make me feel any better.”

Tucking the wine bottle on the nightstand before flopping to the floor, Y/N sighed.

The abandoned date was a week behind her, but she still couldn’t shake her frustration.

“He’s always hitting on me. And now Jane wants to give things another go and I’m discarded like a consolation prize.”

Wanda awed, “Oh love, don’t think of yourself that way.”

Her hand reached for Y/N’s arm, her thumb running over it softly.

“Men have a way about them, I’ll never understand it but it’s like—they constantly chase after the one that got away. It’s to no fault of your own, he’s just stupid.”

Y/N sipped her wine, smiling at Wanda.

“Thanks babe. Honestly, at the end of the day they have history. They’re well suited for each other. Hell they probably have better chemistry than Thor and I would have—”

“Oh I’m sure that’s not a factor. That man could have chemistry with anyone.”

Y/N wracked with laughter, Wanda was pretty reserved about her attractions. It was shocking when they came out.

“For sure. Big and bulky, thousands of years of experience…”

Wanda hummed, “Experience. Now that’s the kind of man you need Y/N. Someone who knows his way around a woman.”

Wanda flipped abruptly, sliding drunkenly to lay across from Y/N.

“Wanna know a secret?”

Y/N looked at Wanda’s glass, seeing it was almost empty.

Note to self, we’re slowing down after this one

“Of course,” Y/N mock-whispered.

Wanda giggled, “The best fucks are the older guys.”

Y/N gasped and smacked Wanda’s arm as she howled.

“Wanda! You’re naughty.”

“I am, I am. But it’s true. Younger men are selfish, rushing to the main event… the older ones take their time.”

She sat up, consumed by her reminiscence.

“They hold you, they tease you, they cherish you. Two words for you Y/N: body worship. It is the best thing since sliced bread. And I’m making sandwiches.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I know!” Wanda said, “But it doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

She threw back the rest of her glass and huffed.

“God, now I’m horny.”

Y/N scoffed, “You’re telling me. With all my potential suitors lined up, I’ve been on edge.”

Evident, considering her blatant proposition to Barnes.

She grew red at the thought, how could she do that? Just throw herself at him?

At least things weren’t awkward between them, he was even going to go as far to give her advice about Thor…

Now looking back on it, it did seem rather odd coming from him. She propositions him for sex, and then comes to give her bedrooms tips? Perhaps he had just been trying to compensate for that day before.

Whatever, she thought, she should just put it out of her head.

“Bucky!” Wanda exclaimed.

Y/N jolted, had she read her mind?

“What?”

Wanda shook her finger at her, “that’s the one you should go for. Christ, have you seen his arms?”

Y/N raised her brows and hummed, “Oh yes, yes I have. Beef cake to a T.”

“And that stubble, lord forgive me.”

Y/N pictured how it would feel scraping her neck, the inside of her thighs…

“But that ship has sailed. It didn’t even dock Wanda.”

Wanda halted as she reached for the wine bottle.

“Explain.”

“Well,” she bobbed her head as she thought, “I kinda already asked him.”

Wanda gasped.

“And he said no.”

Wanda then slammed her hand down. “Bad friend! How could you not tell me?”

Wanda grabbed her hand and shook it, “We could have made a game plan. He could’ve been putty in your hands!”

“I tried!” Y/N defended, “I thought it would be a good idea but it didn’t—I don’t know, pan out.”

Wanda groaned, “Where is Nat? She’ll talk some sense in to you.”

How could it have not panned out, Wanda thought. She knew of the affections he harbored for Y/N, him passing up his opportunity was beyond comprehension.

As if on cue, Nat barged through Y/N’s door. Stumbling with her bottle of tequila and go bag in hand, not even undressed from her late night mission.

“Okay!” She yelled, “I ran off the jet so I wouldn’t miss anything. I’ll do shots to catch up while you spill.”

She directed this to Y/N, who remained utterly confused.

“Spill what?”

Nat rolled her eyes as she unscrewed her bottle.

“Don’t be coy, it’s been a whole week since I talked with Barnes so I’m not even gonna pretend that I’m not in the loop.”

She mouthed the bottle and winced as the first shot went down. Wanda reached out with a grabby hand, and Nat complied.

“How was he? Tell us everything.” She demanded.

Wanda and Y/N shared a look of confusion, had Nat finally gone delusional after too many hits to the head?

“Nat, I’m serious. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Her face was read over by the super-spy, and she watched as Nat’s face contorted into annoyance. Her hand darted to grab the bottle back from Wanda.

“Wait. You’re telling me he didn’t make a move?”

Y/N sat up slowly, “No…”

As she drew it out, Nat knew then that Barnes has chickened out.

“Oh that goddamn idiot.”

“Nat what are you talking about?”

She huffed. She knew Bucky would do this. She didn’t know why, but he always found some excuse as to why he shouldn’t follow through. Bucky had to be pushed, and what better way than to tell Y/N herself.

“He charged to your room last week after training, determined to fuck the shit out of you.”

Wanda’s cough sent white wine all over the floor, Nat patted her back as Y/N took this in.

“You’re joking.” Y/N stated.

“No! He told me you asked him to, I told him he was an idiot, and then he went to your room. At least I assume he did—”

“—he did!” Y/N said.

The two women looked at her in shock.

“And he did nothing?” Wanda asked.

Y/N fumbled over her words, “Well—he came in. Yeah, he came in. Then he saw me upset and then we just hung out but he—we, we just—he was gonna fuck me?”

“He wanted to! Like bull in China shop charging out of the room, wanted to fuck you.”

“I can’t believe this.” Y/N decided to take the rest of the wine bottle for herself, slopping it down in the chaos of this news.

“The fuck do I do now?”

Nat gently placed a hand on her knee, face sweet and genuine.

“You mount him, sweetie.”

Wanda nodded eagerly, filling her wine glass with tequila.

“Body worship.” She enunciated.

Nat side eyed her, “What?”

Wanda waved her hand at her, “I’ll explain later.”

As Y/N sat silent, the two stared at her. Eyes dead ahead, Y/N still couldn’t wrap her brain around the idea.

“So?” Nat asked, “Are you going?”

Y/N was shocked, “What, like now?”

Nat threw her head back as she swiped the tequila back from Wanda.

Wow, she thought, they’re both idiots I guess.

“Yes NOW. We just got back from the same mission, he’s in his room as we speak.”

“That doesn’t mean I should go now! I should talk to him, I—I don’t get why he’d change his mind after I asked him—”

“No.” Nat demanded. She stood up, grabbing Y/N and rising with her.

“You two talk way too much. Every time you two come out on the opposite page you started. Or—opposite end of the book. Whatever, you’re not on the same page!”

Nat dragged her to the door, and whipped it open.

“You want to fuck Barnes. He wants to fuck you. When you two start talking that suddenly goes out the window. No more chit-chat. You, are going to get laid tonight. And it’s gonna be by 6 feet, 250 pounds of fine-aged muscle. And you are not coming back here until you do!”

She tossed Y/N out the door, leaving her in stunned silence in the hallway.

~

Bucky stripped himself of his gear, his shoulders and neck aching from the grip of his harness.

God, it felt good to get that off. It felt good to be home.

What he desperately wanted was a rub down, a deep tissue massage courtesy of Stark Therapeutics. But it was far too late for that, he’d have to go tomorrow.

His mind began to wander in his exhaustion, forming a picture of delicate hands working his muscles.

Eventually, the image of Y/N’s wandering hands came into his fantasy. Pulling, yearning for his sensitive skin…

His palms ran up his face into his hair. Now he needed a cold shower.

He should’ve just done it.

He must have been a masochist, torturing and teasing himself with his own chances, graphic and vulgar images just taunting him.

You could have had this, she could have been yours.

He was mad at himself. Now, with their pathetic back-and-forth he would never have a chance like that again.

And then when she finally got back in the game she’d meet someone that rocked her world, then they’d get married and have beautiful mini Y/N babies because of all the rocking sex they’d have.

Alright, now he was being dramatic.

He needed to cool off, breathe, sleep it off and then reset.

He could do without one night of mental torture.

The ice cold water was uninviting, but much needed.

Though it was waking up his exhausted body, his mind was slowly letting go of Y/N.

Y/N, Y/N, Y/N….

He was trying his best, he really was. Especially after last week.

He made the choice to be supportive and passive about her sex life, things were feeling normal between them.

A knock came on his door. Turning off the water, he called out.

“Yeah?”

He waited a moment, but when receiving no answer, he went back to his shower.

He jumped out of his skin when the bathroom door whipped open.

Ponytail swinging, eyes hard, she darted to the shower.

“Y/N? What the hell!”

He didn’t attempt to cover himself, too shocked to move.

What the actual hell.

She pulled back the glass door, pausing as she took him in.

Every inch of him was just… goddamn insane.

Perfect arms, perfect abs, perfect v.

Looking down, she sighed.

“God, that’s gonna hurt.”

Bucky’s eyes went wide.

“Excuse me?”

She met his eyes. She looked wild; her pupils blown, panting, the water beginning to dampen her thin clothes.

Part of her hesitated, this was bold. This was a lot coming from her. The last few weeks were filled with waiting and waiting for the right proposal. She had tech geniuses, army vets, marine corps, doctors from all over the building shooting their shot, and none of them caught her attention.

But he however, was the only one she had sought after.

Thor had been tempting, but looking at Barnes in his soaked glory, she knew that the God could never compare. This was a man.

Bucky’s back hit the tiled wall, Y/N’s body being soaked by the shower stream.

His hands stay at his sides, unable to move.

This had to be a dream.

“I want you.”

Bucky’s mouth went dry at her declaration, lip dropping in slight awe.

“Do you want me?” She asked.

Their chests heaved in unison, the frozen water suddenly felt like a thousand degrees.

He stared at her. Her hands on his shoulders, that dangerous look in her eye…

“God yes.” He uttered.

It was so fast.

Her body pressed into him, soft lips covering his.

Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and his hands flew to her waist.

He turned them, hoisting her up against the wall. Her legs locked around his back as he ground his cock into her clothed pussy.

He pulled her bottom lip between his teeth, his hands nearly ripping her waistband.

He pulled back, resting his head against her forehead as he breathed out.

His body was on fire.

“Tell me you’re sure.”

She went to kiss him again and he ducked his chin.

“Y/N, tell me you’re sure.”

She rested her head back against the cold, wet tile. She felt the heat pooling in her body, her hands hot as they gripped into his shoulders.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I need you to fuck me Bucky.”

That was all he needed.

Shower abandoned, he rushed to the bed with her.

He raked his hands along her body, he needed to feel every inch of her. He needed her to feel how desperately he wanted this.

Goosebumps littered her flesh, his metal hand doing nothing to satiate.

She wrestled to get herself unclothed, eager for his skin against hers.

He pushed her hands away.

“Let me,” he urged, “Let me touch you.”

She complied, lifting her arms above her head as he undressed her. Strong hands delicate but sure, confidently removing every piece that was in his way.

She was perfect.

He took in all her beauty; collarbones exposed, breast perked under his touch, the soft and supple feel of her skin, those hips, those legs, that perfect pussy…

He began his descent, kissing every inch as he urged to her to lay back.

Her eyes never left him, watching as her ravished her torso with his lips.

Body worship echoed in her mind.

His hands wander upwards, grazing her sensitive thighs.

“Bucky, please.”

She loved it, she did. It felt so good to be cherished like this, his fingers kneading into every spot he could grab. But she wanted him, she needed to feel him.

“Baby,” he whispered, stubble scraping her inner thighs, “I gotta take my time with you.”

She moaned as he gently bit the inside of her thigh, lifting her legs over his shoulders.

He groaned at the sound, reminding himself to slow down.

God, he wanted to fuck her. He wanted to leave her breathless, whining, desperate to cum beneath him.

But he couldn’t now. Next time.

He met her eyes as his tongue licked her folds.

Her head rolled back as he drew another moan from her.

He listened to her body, the sounds she made as her delved further in to her pussy.

Show me what you like baby, give it all to me.

His lips circled around her clit, tongue working hard and fast.

He’d be damned if he didn’t make her cum before he was inside her.

He planned to ruin her for anyone else, he wanted her pleasure so overwhelming that she’d never forget why she waited. She needed to know what real sex felt like.

“Fuck, Bucky.”

Her thighs clenched around his head, losing herself. She tried to loosen them as he continued his assault, but his hands locked them into place.

Squeeze me love, don’t hesitate. I want it all.

She cried out as he worked harshly with his tongue, she knew she was about to come.

“Don’t stop, Bucky please don’t stop.”

Her back arched against the mattress, and he held her down with his flesh arm. He wanted his face in it when she came, tasting all she had to give.

He hummed against her, passionately continuing as she rode out her climax. He felt it drip down his face, chin slick with her wetness.

He was tempted to go again, really make her writhe from his tongue, have her screaming his name so loud that the rest of the compound would be pounding on his door.

He wanted to give her more; and more.

But he’d wait. Not now.

Now he needed to be inside her, have her tight and wet pussy grip him as he rutted into her.

He had to know how good she felt.

He wiped his chin before climbing on the bed, hovering over her.

She was speechless, eyes glassy as slipped himself between her legs.

“I’m gonna fuck you nice, and slow. You're gonna tell me what you need baby."

In awe, she lifted her hips to his. She didn't care if it hurt, the pleasure would come. She knew he'd make sure of that.

He grazed her entrance with his head, gently teasing.

"Tell me you want me."

She whimpered, mind reflecting on Wanda's statement earlier.

They hold you, they tease you, they cherish you…

He was relishing in her pleasure as much as she was.

“I want you Bucky, please. I want you to fuck me.”

She bucked her hips up to his, and he pressed her further into the mattress.

He hushed her, “Easy baby, I’m not going anywhere.”

His head ducked beneath her ear, softly sucking at the skin.

Her nails dug into his shoulders, his body warm against hers.

“Ready?”

She nodded into his shoulder.

Grabbing her chin, he placed a soft kiss on her lips.

Staring into her eyes, he watched her face as he eased himself in.

God, he was huge.

Slowly, he let his cock fill her up. His hips stuttered at her tightness, she was so warm… so wet…

He kissed her neck as she sighed, hands sliding under her hips to hold her against him.

Her arms wrapped around his back, legs locking behind his so she could take all of him.

She wanted him to move, she needed him to move.

“Please Bucky, I’m ready.”

He nodded into her shoulder, steeling himself to not cum right then and there.

She felt so good, he’d wanted this for so long. And now she was begging him for more, perfect body wrapped around him.

His wildest dreams never could have imagined this.

His thrusts were gentle, purposeful.

He wanted her to take every inch, he wanted her a mess beneath him.

He gave it to her nice, and slow. Just as he promised.

She moaned softly as his rutting picked up pace, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hips.

He groaned, “You’re taking me so well. You’re doing so good baby.”

Her breath hitched at his words, and Bucky’s sly smile grew against her skin.

Her heartbeat pulsed into his cheek, and he nipped at the skin of her neck.

“Yeah? You like that baby? Tell me.”

“Yes,” she breathed out, “You feel so good.”

He moaned into her neck, strokes rolling wave after wave of pleasure to her core.

“That’s my girl. That’s my good girl.”

She was soaking his cock, becoming tighter and tighter.

“You fuck me so good Bucky, fuck I—”

She couldn’t hold back her cry, his cock hitting the perfect spot inside of her.

He was worried he’d hurt her, but as her place contorted in pleasure he continued his pounding.

He hesitated in speaking, feeling selfish. Then couldn’t stop himself as she cried out his name.

“Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours.”

She said it without thinking, brain foggy and filled with thoughts of only him.

He could let the sound of that replay for eternity.

“That’s a good girl. Fuck you feel so good.”

He lifted her legs over his shoulders, pushing himself deeper inside her.

He slowed himself as she whined, trying to remember that he couldn’t ruin her yet.

It needed to be slow, this had to be all about her…

No matter how desperately he wanted her cumming from overstimulation, fingertips gripping the bedsheets, crying out his name and only his.

“Bucky…”

It was the only thing she knew to say, her mind devoting her words to only him.

He was getting close, but he couldn’t let himself finish.

Fucking her slow, he slipped his hand over her clit. Making gentle and soft circles, drawing her last orgasm out of her.

He bit into her calf as she came, urging himself not to cum as she did. She coated his thighs, and he moved faster.

His thumb on her clit moved with the pace of his thrusts.

“C’mon baby, give me another one. Cum for me Y/N.”

She felt lightheaded as another orgasm came, washing over her body as she cried out his name again.

“That’s my girl. Fuck Y/N, you’re perfect.”

He groaned as he finished, collapsing on top of her.

Sweaty and hot, they laid against one another. Legs tangled, his hands still pressing her into him.

Their breathing slowed, he reached over to gently kiss her forehead.

“You okay?” He whispered.

She hummed, nodding into his chest.

He chuckled, “Tired?”

She nodded again, smiling into his skin.

He slowly kissed along the side of her face, shifting to cradle her in his arms.

He was coming down from his high, the room became clearer. He drifted his hand along her spine, in silent awe that everything had changed in an instant.

“You really came barging in here.”

She laughed, laying her head on his chest.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Jesus, don’t be. It was an answer to my prayers.”

She laughed again, sitting up and pulling at her ponytail.

She let in drape over her shoulders, softly staring at him with a small smile.

“Could’ve been sooner. Nat said you chickened out last week.”

He groaned, “Of course she told you. I’m sorry, okay? I just got scared.”

“You got scared? It was my first time.”

“I know, but… I wanted it to be your choice. You asked me to earlier and I didn’t think you wanted what I did. I needed you to enjoy it.”

She hummed, laying against him again. Her hands placed in the soft tuft of hair on his chest.

“Did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Enjoy it.”

She cuddled into his side, “Of course I did. I know I made the right choice, Buck.”

He nodded, his worries silenced.

“And I know I’m gonna enjoy it next time.”

His brows shot up, “Next time?”

“Oh yeah,” she lifted herself to face him, “next time.”

She kissed his lips, “And the next.”

Another kiss, “And the next.”

They laughed together as she continued. Thank god she had waited all this time.

Bucky drifted to sleep with the thought of each “next”, excited for every single one.

~

Permanent Tag-list:

@pigeonmama

@dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable

@dumb-ass-3

@cuddlycalcifer @babyblue-07 @babybluereads @lonewolf471 @niiight-dreamerrrr @fandomsfallnomore @elliee1497 @godspeedlover @sexwithhiddlesbatch @shower-me-with-roses @yougottalovefandoms @rebekahdawkins @gentlybarnes

Bucky tag list

@emmabarnes

Series Tag List

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@ravenclawotaku

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@kgirardin

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- @sadisticfries

- @rebeccccccaaa @aavengingbucky @obliviatevamps

- @wendyswildwonders

- @ohwowreallycool

- @bestofbucky

- @shower-me-with-roses

- @beware-my-thorns

- @intothesoul

- @felicityofbakerstreet

- @laurakirsten0502

- @stuckysavedmylive

- @raindrcpsangel

Had some errors with Taglist usernames so if you’re not here and/or have been added but not requested, my apologies!

[heritageposts]

how do i start to read marxist leninist/leftist stuff ? i searched on the internet but it’s super confusing lol

the most important value for me as an ML is anti-imperialism, so i guess i'll always recommend that people start with works centred on that

some suggestions below (all books should be available either on marxist.org or as pdf/epub files on libgen)

American Holocaust by David E. Stannard

about the colonization of america. not explicitly marxist, but it's probably done more to radicalize me than any other piece of writing. this is the pile of corpses capitalism is built on:

Within no more than a handful of generations following their first en counters with Europeans, the vast majority of the Western Hemisphere's native peoples had been exterminated. The pace and magnitude of their obliteration varied from place to place and from time to time, but for years now historical demographers have been uncovering, in region upon region, post-Columbian depopulation rates of between 90 and 98 percent with such regularity that an overall decline of 95 percent has become a working rule of thumb. What this means is that, on average, for every twenty natives alive at the moment of European contact-when the lands of the Americas teemed with numerous tens of millions of people-only one stood in their place when the bloodbath was over. To put this in a contemporary context, the ratio of native survivorship in the Americas following European contact was less than half of what the human survivorship ratio would be in the United States today if every single white person and every single black person died. The destruction of the Indians of the Americas was, far and away, the most massive act of genocide in the history of the world. That is why, as one historian aptly has said, far from the heroic and romantic heraldry that customarily is used to symbolize the European settlement of the Americas, the emblem most congruent with reality would be a pyramid of skulls. - David E. Stannard

2. Imperialism: The Highest Stage of Capitalism by Vladimir Lenin

Imperialism is capitalism at that stage of development at which the dominance of monopolies and finance capital is established; in which the export of capital has acquired pronounced importance; in which the division of the world among the international trusts has begun, in which the division of all territories of the globe among the biggest capitalist powers has been completed. - Vladimir Lenin

3. The Wretched of The Earth by Franz Fanon

Let us look at ourselves, if we can bear to, and see what is becoming of us. First, we must face that unexpected revelation, the strip-tease of our humanism. There you can see it, quite naked, and it’s not a pretty sight. It was nothing but an ideology of lies, a perfect justification for pillage; its honeyed words, its affectation of sensibility were only alibis for our aggressions. A fine sight they are too, the believers in non-violence, saying that they are neither executioners nor victims. Very well then; if you’re not victims when the government which you’ve voted for, when the army in which your younger brothers are serving without hesitation or remorse have undertaken race murder, you are, without a shadow of doubt, executioners. And if you chose to be victims and to risk being put in prison for a day or two, you are simply choosing to pull your irons out of the fire. But you will not be able to pull them out; they’ll have to stay there till the end. Try to understand this at any rate: if violence began this very evening and if exploitation and oppression had never existed on the earth, perhaps the slogans of non-violence might end the quarrel. But if the whole regime, even your non-violent ideas, are conditioned by a thousand-year-old oppression, your passivity serves only to place you in the ranks of the oppressors. - prefrace by Jean-Paul Sartre

4. Discourse on Colonialism by Aimé Césaire

Yes, it would be worthwhile to study clinically, in detail, the steps taken by Hitler and Hitlerism and to reveal to the very distinguished, very humanistic, very Christian bourgeois of the twentieth century that without his being aware of it, he has a Hitler inside him, that Hitler inhabits him, that Hitler is his demon, that if he rails against him, he is being inconsistent and that, at bottom, what he cannot forgive Hitler for is not crime in itself, the crime against man, it is not the humiliation of man as such, it is the crime against the white man, the humiliation of the white man, and the fact that he applied to Europe colonialist procedures which until then had been reserved exclusively for the Arabs of Algeria, the coolies of India, and the blacks of Africa I have talked a good deal about Hitler. Because he deserves it: he makes it possible to see things on a large scale and to grasp the fact that capitalist society, at its present stage, is incapable of establishing a concept of the rights of all men, just as it has proved incapable of establishing a system of individual ethics. Whether one likes it or not, at the end of the blind alley that is Europe, I mean the Europe of Adenauer, Schuman, Bidault, and a few others, there is Hitler. At the end of capitalism, which is eager to outlive its day, there is Hitler. At the end of formal humanism and philosophicrenunciation, there is Hitler - Aimé Césaire

5. Blackshirts and Reds: Rational Fascism and the Overthrow of Communism by Michael Parenti

probably the most accessible introduction to communism that doesn't demonize countries that have undergone—or attempted to undergo—a transitation into socalism (like the ussr, cuba, etc.)

The very concept of "revolutionary violence" is somewhat falsely cast, since most of the violence comes from those who attempt to prevent reform, not from those struggling for reform. By focusing on the violent rebellions of the downtrodden, we overlook the much greater repressive force and violence utilized by the ruling oligarchs to maintain the status quo, including armed attacks against peaceful demonstrations, mass arrests, torture, destruction of opposition organizations, suppression of dissident publications, death squad assassinations, the extermination of whole villages, and the like. - Michael Parenti

[mariasont]

The Manuscript - A.H

a/n: this was supposed to be based on t.s new song manuscript, but it didn't realllyyy turn out like that

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x reader

summary: while unpacking you find a series of letters aaron wrote to you in college

warnings: angst, age gap (reader is 20s, hotch is 40s), haley and jack don't exist in this universe

wc: 1.3k

Your gaze swept over the towering stacks of boxes littering your living room floor, and with a resigned sigh, you began the daunting task of unpacking them. Your hands found the nearest box deftly lifting the flaps as you began to pull out its contents. Your felt the soft crinkle of paper beneath your fingers, and gently, you drew out a stack of letters, their edges softened with time, all neatly tied together with a string. 

Your heart seized a sudden halt as you realized just what they were. Your throat constricted, parched, as tears stung your eyes, threatening to spill over, your fingers coming to rest over your mouth. Instinctively, your body sank onto the cold hardwood floor, gently placing the papers down beside you. You had forgotten these had even existed, let alone made it with you on the move.

You didn't remember seeing them when you packed, did you? Your fingers shook slightly as they picked apart the knot, and with a hesitant touch, you reached for the first piece of weathered paper.

January 5

Honey, 

Your letter was a welcome surprise, far sweeter than any text message could be. I enjoyed spending New Years Eve with you too, and I hope this case ends quickly so I can take you on a real date. 

I'm glad to hear college is going well. Should you encounter any more issues with your professor, please let me know. You're a bright young woman, and I have no doubt he'll see that in time. I am looking forward to your next letter.

Yours,

Aaron

--

March 12

Honey, 

I'm glad you enjoyed our date as much as I did. At times, I find my thoughts wandering to you in that dress, and it's a welcome distraction. 

I'm glad you look forward to our letters, because I do too. And yes, rest assured, I'm taking all necessary precautions in the field. Don't worry, the team has my back, especially Garcia--she's got more eyes on us than stars in the sky. 

Goodluck on your psychology exam. I know you will ace it.

Yours,

Aaron. 

--

May 5

Honey,

I've read your letter several times, and I want you to know that it's perfectly normal to question your path. Trust your instincts--they've led you well thus far. Remember you are allowed to change your mind. Your parents will understand.

No matter what you decide, I have no doubt you will succeed. You have a rare combination of intelligence and empathy that will serve you well in any profession.

Once I'm back, how about we go to that restaurant you love? Consider it a date.

Yours,

Aaron.

--

July 19

Honey,

Summer suits you, I can tell--even from a distance. I'm proud of the work you're doing--shadowing at the occupational therpay office and working with children is no small feat. You'll have to tell me all about it when I get back.

The case is demanding, as they often are. And as for the sweatshirt, consider it yours. I had a feeling it wouldn't find its way back to me anyway.

We should talk about getting you a key to my place. Then you'll have no need to borrow my things--you'll have access to them whenever you wish. 

I love you. I'll say it again when I see you.

Yours forever, 

Aaron

--

January 14

Honey,

Congratulations on your first semester of OT school. I am incredibly proud of you and everything you have accomplished. Smarty pants. 

I'm glad to hear you've been using the journal I gave you for Christmas. I would give you a thousand if that's what you wanted. 

When I'm back, we'll celebrate your achievements properly. Until then, know I'm grateful for you every day. You've made me the happiest I've been, and I cherish every moment we share. I love you. 

Yours forever,

Aaron 

--

May 20

Honey,

Your last letter lingered on the topic of our age difference, and I've been giving it a lot of thought. It's a subject that, admittedly, has crossed my mind more than once. But let me reassure you, to me, it's the person you are, not the years you've lived, that matters most.

I understand the concerns that come with this, and I want you to know that it's okay. Your feelings are valid. We're navigating this together, and I remain certain in my commitment to you and to us. 

We'll talk more about this when I'm home. I love you. 

Yours forever,

Aaron

--

August 8

Honey,

I want you to know that I didn't mean to leave things unresolved, I'm sorry I was called away. I'm not writing to rehash the argument. I understand everything you said, and it's given me much to think about.

You are the most important part of my life, and us being at odds is more challenging than any case I've ever face. I love you deeply, and I'm committed to finding a way through this together. When I return, let's sit down and talk--really talk. I'm sorry for the way things were left, and I hope we can move past this. 

Yours forever,

Aaron

--

December 22

Honey,

I find myself at a loss for words yet compelled to write to you. I've had time to reflect on everything that happened between us. I'm deeply sorry for any hurt I've caused, and how things unfolded. My only wish was for us to want the same things. 

Please know, I will always be here for you, in any capacity you need. I hope you find someone who is worthy of you and can provide the life you deserve. You deserve someone who can walk with you through all stages of your life--someone who can give you the family you dream of. You have so much to offer.

You are an extraordinary person, and I have no doubt you will find great love and joy. And though it may not be with me, please remember, I still love you.

Yours always,

Aaron.

--

You hadn't even realized you were crying until your tears began to soak into the page, each droplet distorting the text as it spread. Your hand moved instinctively to your face, the fabric of your sleeve brushing against your wet cheek. A decade-old ache twisted inside you sharply, as fresh as if it were only yesterday.

You returned the letters to their stack, the bow tied as neatly as it was before, and laid them at the bottom of the box. As the papers found their place, your focus shifted, something else catching your attention--the journal he'd given you.

The sudden patter of footsteps coming down the stairs snapped you back to the present. Hastily, you wiped away the lingering tears and secured the lid on the box. As you turned, your face transformed with a practiced smile just as your seven-year-old daughter came skipping into view, her voice bubbling with excitement, "Mommy, mommy!"

Gathering her up in your arms, you showered her cheeks with affectionate kisses, her infectious giggles filling the empty house. 

"When is daddy going to be home?"

With a gentle smile, you replied, "Soon, sweetheart," while your fingers danced along her side, eliciting more giggles. "Do you want to help Mommy unpack?"

She quickly scrunched her nose and shook her head. "Mmm, no, not really."

You laughed, and your heart swelled with love so intense it almost hurt. The front door swung open, and your daughter's voice pierced the air once more with a, "Daddy!"

Her little feet dashed off as she rushed to greet him, leaving you to resume unpacking. You barely had time to refocus when you felt a gentle touch in your hair.  Aaron was there, kneeling to your level with a tender smile. 

"Hi, honey," he said, his hand pausing as he noted the redness around your eyes. "What's wrong angel?"

You reach for the letters, holding them out to Aaron with a half-smile. "Just revisiting the time you were this close to losing the best thing in your life," you tease, a laugh bubbling up. But as the laughter fades, it morphs into a sob.

Aaron's laughter mingled with yours as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest. "Yeah, that was a close one," he admitted, his voice a soft rumble. "Glad I came to my senses." 

[mollyjimbly]

🚨🚨AWFUL HORRIFIC NEWS🚨🚨

Hey everyone, some news update and a call to action :( Yes, KOSA is most likely going to be moving again possibly. Please read the entire message and take action.

WHAT TO DO?:

(YES YOU CAN CALL IF YOURE A MINOR)

1) Call House leadership everyday.

Steve Scalise (R), Mike Johnson (R), and Hakeem Jeffries (D). House leadership (GOP) sounds like they're somewhat in disapproval. Use their reasonings. There is a tailored call script SPECIFICALLY FOR REPUBLICANS in our call script here:

2) Call House Energy and Commerce Committee.

Click their names here:

and their phone numbers should be present. Split amongst yourselves which ones to call because there's a lot of members. If you have time, call all. If not, pick a few and call.

More noise = better.

⭐ See end for extra resources and tips.

1) Movement in the House. There will be a full committee markup next Wednesday at 10 am. The list of bills they will markup hasn't been finalized but KOSA is most likely to show up.

SOURCE:

2) 42 State Attorney Generals signed a letter in support of action on social media harms, including passing KOSA

SOURCE:

3) Schumer has been pushing for a vote on this all last week

⭐ Pretend you are a member of the GOP when calling them. Use their concerns. They are worried about pro-life, christian messages being censored off the internet. Pretend you are concerned about this as well. Say things like "this will give Biden a win and then they will use this bill to push their LGBT agenda on the rest of us!"

CALL SCRIPT FOR GOP:

I am urging you to VOTE NO on KOSA, the Kid’s Online Safety Act. This is a dangerous bill that will harm children. Many news organizations have reported that this bill actively harms kids by exposing their private data to strangers under the guise of protecting them. We need to hold Big Tech accountable, but KOSA is not the solution.

The bill let any state attorney general and the FTC to sue any website for “harmful” content. Do we really want blue state lawyers deciding what can and can’t be allowed online? Big Tech is already censoring us. That’s why they support KOSA. This is massive government overreach. We need a bill that actually protects children by creating better security measures instead of bringing about more censorship.

Multiple experts agree this bill pushes age verification, even with the new language. KOSA hands more private data of children to third party companies, which would put them in further danger. How is this protecting children’s privacy? What parent would want their child’s private data in the hands of strangers like this? KOSA is actively putting kids in danger. Do NOT support this bill. Thank you.

CALL SCRIPT FOR DEMS:

I am urging you to VOTE NO on KOSA. Nearly 200 human rights and LGBT organizations total came out in an open letter opposing it. The ACLU is against it. Hundreds of thousands of Gen Z, who actually live online, are against it. We know the harms of social media, and we know this is not the solution. The new language does NOT meet any concerns brought up, in fact many organizations were ignored. Major news have reported that this bill actively harms kids. We do not want this.

The rewritten bill would still allow any state attorney general, and now the FTC, to sue any website for “harmful” content. When you have Republicans calling anything LGBT “sexual exploitation” or anything about race “CRT” to successfully ban books and teachers, then they will use any justification to censor the internet. The Missouri attorney general used “mental health” successfully to ban gender-affirming care with backed up research. Suicide rates will skyrocket for marginalized youth with this bill restricting content.

Multiple experts agree this bill pushes age verification, even with the new language. KOSA hands more private data of children to third party companies. Furthermore, updated language threatens encryption the same way the Earn It Act does. How is this protecting children’s privacy? KOSA actively harms kids. Do NOT support this bill. Thank you.

friendly reminder!! ⬆️

[lehguru]

BE MINE + ONE PIECE MEN

request: them asking the reader to be their partner + luffy, zoro, sanji & law

info: gn!reader, i forgor how i characterize them so bear with me, also this is me trying to crawl back to one piece so im sorry if its rlly bad; not proofread!!! (i should start asking ppl to beta read those istg)

monkey d.luffy didn't really straight up asked you to be his partner. luffy being luffy, he walked up to you one day and said that you were his partner. you, having feelings for the captain for a really long time now, chuckled nervously, asking "what do you mean?". as he explained that nami told him that if he liked you, then he should ask you out, you could hear the red head sighing from somewhere—you knew at least half of the crew was watching you two right now. you laughed softly at the proud smile he wore and nodded, agreeing to be his.

roronoa zoro was almost the same as luffy, but at least he had the decency to actually ask you about it. during a beautiful day, you were on one side of the little garden that was built in the thousand sunny's deck, helping robin to water the plants. out of nowhere, a shadow was cast upon your crouching form; looking up, you noticed the green haired swordsman and smiled at him, getting up. "yes, zor—"

cutting you off, he asked in the same stoic tone he almost always had: "do you want to be my partner?". your eyes went wide and you let out a small exclamation of surprise. taking that as a denial, he turned back and started to walk away, but you managed to yell out his name. "yes! i will be your partner." the man huffed and nodded, but you could see a slight blush dusting his cheekbones.

when the subject is romance and love, you always expect sanji to be a master at it. out of everyone, he should be the one knowing how to ask someone to be his significant other, but he has never felt this... strongly about someone like he feels about you. when he approaches you to ask that, he's holding a little box with your favorite dessert, his long slender fingers shaking a little as words seemed to catch on his throat for the first time in front of someone he loves. he took a deep breath, a bead of sweat dripping down the back of his neck, you touching his arm and asking 'is everything okay, sanji?' with your sweet voice sent him over the edge. "do you want to date me?", his words were clear for him, but for you, he simply spat all of them out at the same time. you told him to breathe and say it again, and he did, his eyes looking at the floor with the shame of the rejection that would surely come his way. your head almost bumped on his as you jumped on his arms, screaming a yes and giggling loudly. he hugged you and spun you around, giggles of his own leaving his pink lips.

trafalgar d.water law didn't want to acknowledge his feelings for you. you were one of his closest friends, one of the few people he trusted the most—you knew things about him that he never told another soul; so he was afraid of losing you. terrified even. he had lost enough people that he loved during his life and he couldn't bear to lose another one. but... his other friends knew a little too much about his "silly" feelings.

"c'mon man, go ask them out." law saw himself being cornered by penguin, sachi and bepo one day, all of them with playful expressions. "the worst you can get is a punch."

he tried to ignore them, ignore how his cheeks seemed to be heating up, but they were being so obnoxious and annoying, he couldn't handle them anymore. with a burst of rage, he yelled at them, "can you shut up? i don't like them and they don't like me, either!"

"like who?" your voice made his heart leave his body and he felt like stabbing the three men—and bear—that were running away now. "no one." law replied, scoffing to himself for the slip up. "torao! tell me! come on!" now you were the one bugging him and he rubbed his face with his hand. you poked his cheek, giving him a little pout. "law, please!"

"it's you." he snapped, making you freeze. "it's you, dumbass." surprising the man, you started to giggle, making him go from annoyed to even more embarassed. "what?" you kissed his lips softly and started to walk away, saying that you accepted to be his partner.

2024 © content belongs to lehguru, but the characters used in them belong to their respective creators!!

[angels-fantasy]

Top-Secret Fiction Ch. 1

Date Scored

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Description: After meeting the one and only pro hero Dynamight on a dating app, you two begin to see each other. Because of the dangers that come with his hero work, you both promise to be completely honest with each other from the beginning; though you can't help but keep one big secret from him.

You write fan fiction, mostly about him.

Chapter Details: This story is honestly mostly fluff, some crack fic elements lol, lowkey fast pacing but IM IMPATIENT LOL sorry

Word Count: 1.2k

It was a Tuesday night when you were on your computer, logged into HeroFiction.com and typing away at a new fan fiction you promised your readers.

You had been writing fan fiction as a hobby for about three years now and over time quickly began gaining followers. Now, you had almost four thousand readers that loved your work.

At first you wrote for a variety of heroes, until Dynamight started becoming really popular. You didn't see the hype in the beginning. He was so rude and destructive, why would you write about him?

Your mind didn't change for a while until you saw a video of him getting interviewed after taking down a villain. He was as rude as ever of course, but his face was covered in soot and his hero costume was ripped, showing his chest and arms. Watching that video made you realize how hot he actually was.

That was the moment you decided to start writing for him.

He quickly became a favorite among your readers, so you kept writing for him. It seemed as the more you wrote for him, the more you liked him. He was suddenly your favorite pro hero.

Now, you focused every piece of writing on him. It worked out perfectly for you. You and your readers loved it, it was a win-win.

So now as you were thinking of what to write next, your phone buzzed next to your thigh, breaking you out of your thoughts.

You grabbed your phone and looked at your new notification, seeing it was from the dating app you recently downloaded.

Now curious, you opened up the app to see what the notification was. It appeared to be a message from a recent match.

Hey sexy. Meet up 2night 👀?

Face curling up in disgust, you blocked the person and deleted the message. It seemed as if everyone on that app was just looking for a hookup, and not something long term.

Maybe it was foolish for you to think you'd find something serious on the app, but it didn't hurt to try right?

You closed your laptop, making sure to save your work, and began swiping through profiles on the app.

You continued swiping left for who knows how long, until you came across a profile claiming to be Dynamight.

Sitting up in bed quickly, you looked at the profile closely and read through it.

Katsuki Bakugou, 30

Pro hero. No, I'm not hooking up with you. Yes, I'm fucking real.

It was short and not so sweet, but it didn't seem fake. You swiped through his pictures. The first one was of him and other pro heroes dressed in their hero costumes. The second was a picture of him, flexing in the mirror, and the third was a selfie of him and a german shepherd outside.

Maybe you were being way too optimistic, but you really believed that this could be him. If it was, then you hoped that somehow he'd match with you. If it wasn't real, then it wouldn't be an issue, but you would be disappointed.

Feeling brave, you decided to swipe right.

It's a Match!

You never gasped so loud in your life. If it was already a match, then that meant he had to have swiped right on you before right? You bit your nails as your heart raced in excitement, wondering what you should even say to him now that you were matched.

But what if he wasn't even real? You'd just be embarrassing yourself by believing that Dynamight of all people, would be on a dating app and actually matching with you. This could be some horrible person messing with people, trying to humiliate them.

Now discouraged by your own thoughts, you just shook your head and closed the app.

Buzz.

Katsuki Bakugou: Hey

Your eyes widened and your eyebrows raised so high up they could probably touch your hairline.

"Oh my word!" You cried while gripping your phone. You opened the app once again and tapped on the new message, typing your own.

Me: Hello!

Me: I'm sorry but I just have to ask. Are you actually Dynamight?

You chewed on your fingers nervously as you watched the text bubble pop up, a message eventually following it.

Katsuki Bakugou: Yes I'm real. I can prove it to ya if you need me to. Idk how but I will.

You hummed out loud, thinking of what he could do to prove he's real.

Me: Uhh could you send a pic of yourself with a spoon on your nose?

Katsuki Bakugou: That's what you came up with?

Me: That's the only specific thing I could think of!

Katsuki Bakugou: Yeah yeah

Katsuki Bakugou: [image attachment]

Opening the picture, you saw exactly what you asked for. It was Dynamight with a damn spoon on his nose.

You threw your phone across your bedroom and shoved your face in your pillow, screaming in excitement.

"Holy shit." You said in disbelief, "I'm actually talking to Dynamight."

You got up out of bed and picked your phone up off the floor.

Me: Oh my word you're actually real

Me: Thanks for the pic lol sorry you had to do that

Katsuki Bakugou: It's fine. I get why you'd think otherwise so that's why I agreed to it.

Me: Well thanks again

Me: Anyways, can I ask why you're on here? Most people I've come across so far are only looking for one thing. If that's you then no judgement here.

Katsuki Bakugou: Someone I know recommended it to me. And nah that's not me. Being a pro hero and one night stands do not mix well.

Me: Understandable. I'm no pro hero, but I'm on here for something more serious you know? Even just finding friends would be nice.

You cringed at how pathetic you sounded and sent another text.

Me: Sorry, didn't mean to get sappy there lol.

Katsuki Bakugou: You're good. But I feel the same about wanting something more serious. Sucks that almost everyone on here is just a horny bastard.

Damn, who knew Dynamight was so relatable?

Right when you were typing a new message, another one from Dynamight came in.

Katsuki Bakugou: But anyways, when are you free? I wanna take you out.

Katsuki Bakugou: If you want me to, obviously.

You squealed at the message, kicking your feet in excitement. It was kind of surprising that he asked you out so early, but just from what you know about him and his personality, it wasn't out of character. Fast and straight to the point.

You bit your bottom lip as you typed up your response.

Me: Of course, I'd love to! I'm free this weekend.

Katsuki Bakugou: Alright, I'll pick you up Saturday at 5:30 pm.

Me: What do I wear?? Pls tell me where we're going.

Katsuki Bakugou: Can't. It's a surprise. I'll tell you what to wear the day of.

Me: Okay...

Katsuki Bakugou: Don't back out now.

You grinned and held your phone against your chest. You couldn't believe you scored a date with your favorite hero.

Suddenly, your cat jumped up onto your bed and in your lap. You gasped and picked him up, carrying him in front of your face.

"Hey Cheerios." You cooed, "I'm going on a date with Dynamight!"

"Meow"

...

next chapter

authors note

i hope you enjoyed the first chapter of Top Secret Fiction lol. this is my first multi-chapter fic so i'm a little nervous, but i think it's okay so far! pls let me know what you think 😊

also, if you noticed that bakugou seems to be a bit more mellow here, its bc he's older in this fic and i just imagine him as being a bit more calm as an adult.

btw sorry if the fast pace isn't something you like. i'm impatient lol

love ya!

taglist: @doumadono @lovra974 @54fangirl @andysdrafts @dagger-dragger @l4rsun1vrrse @emmab3mma @littlkittenfan @tatiquichi @cloudxluv @seonne @shonen-brainrot @the2ndl

those in pink cannot be tagged for some reason!

[galedekarios]

minsc & gale

recently i've been doing a playthrough taking minsc along during the limited amount of time we do get to connect with his character in the game and i have to say he's growing on me in a way he didn't in previous titles.

i wanted to take the opportunity here to write a short post about his relationship with gale because that, too, is something i found myself enjoying despite the (too) few interactions that we have between them.

minsc's initial thoughts about gale

Player: How are you and Gale getting along? Minsc: I do not wish to speak of the wizard. Minsc: I could not have said it better myself. - Player Option 1: Gale's great - what's your problem with him? Minsc: He came to me one night with a little book of mischief - full of words and their meanings. Minsc: 'Posterior', he says. 'Can you say 'posterior'?' I refused! Minsc does not need to know the language of wizards. Player: 'Posterior' isn't wizard-talk - it's another word for 'butt'. Minsc: It is an inferior word. Far too long to use in a battle cry, which is where a 'butt' belongs. Minsc: Gale would do better to educate himself in the ways of sword and steel than to throw these pointy words at Minsc. Minsc: Ai, yes. Gale also owns a cat. A cat with wings! That is most unnerving for poor Boo. Player: You should give him a break - he's only trying to help. Minsc: Never! If he is not careful, Boo will shred his books and use them as bedding! - Player Option 2: Did you know that he has an explosive magical orb in his chest that could destroy a city? Minsc: WHAT? Minsc: That is a thousand times more interesting than anything that has ever been written in a book. Minsc: GALE! MY GOOD FRIEND! WHERE ARE YOU? MINSC AND BOO WOULD LIKE TO HEAR ABOUT THE EXPLODING.

they may not start off on the right foot, but with gale's genuine interest in other people's cultures as well as his perception and easy-going nature that changes:

sorcerous sundries

Minsc: Minsc has never trusted places such as this. Too much of a wizard's power can be simply packaged and picked up. devnote: Grumbling as we make our way through the shelves of Sorcerous Sundries Minsc: Well, picked up by all but Minsc. When he touches the many delicate little jars, oh how the wizards shout and stare! devnote: Revealing that his objection of Sorcerous Sundries is not in fact a deep philosophical belief that wizards have too much power - they just make him feel stupid and awkward when he pokes at their things Gale: Fear not, Minsc. You have a wizard at your side who positively encourages such curiosity. You'll fit right in. devnote: Reassuring Minsc: Obliged, wizard. Should we find our way to a weaponsmith, Minsc will rough you up a little - so that you too can fit in. devnote: Warm, comradely, would genuinely be doing Gale a favour

i feel like it truly speaks to gale's character that he doesn't dismiss minsc here - neither his feelings of inadequacy nor his innate curiosity about the things he perceives as wizardly.

it would've been very easy for gale - the wizard prodigy, the former chosen, to archwizard - to act the part of the haughty scholar, akin to the arrogant wizards that minsc describes in this banter, looking down on him, shouting at him, but gale doesn't.

gale reassures minsc, encourages him, telling him he'll fit right in. it reminds me of the way he treats karlach and fostering her interest in books and reading. another pair of seemingly polar opposites that still find a connection. i do think gale is quite natural at this, despite his long time spent in isolation.

and minsc does appreciate it - his tone changes to one of warmth, one of camaraderie - and i think this is also when minsc's perception of gale changes: from the annoying wizard to someone he sees as a companion and friend.

rashemi traditions

Minsc: Gale. Minsc worries you might send a fireball up his butt, with all of this stringy hair in your face. Gale: Is that why you keep your head shaved? I assumed it was a custom of some sort. devnote: Curious, referring to Minsc's origins Minsc: Oh, no! Most warriors of Rashemen wear long battle-braids, weighed down with stone. Minsc can show you, when next we camp? Gale: Thank you, but I'm more wizard than warrior. I'm not sure my scalp would stand up to such a plaiting. devnote: Very politely declining

i like this banter for several reasons: i think not only does it show the progression of their relationship with minsc offering to show gale the traditions of his homeland, gale also shows the same curiosity he shows many different cultures and ways of life, same as he does with lae'zel for instance and githyanki culture.

when he declines minsc's offer, he does so politely, without insulting minsc's traditions, putting the onus on himself instead. he's the wizard, not the warrior.

house of hope

Minsc: Gale! You will perhaps able to explain where Boo has not - what exactly is the difference between a devil and a demon? Gale: A fascinating question, one that boils down to which criteria we choose to apply. Are we speaking about the physiological? Theological? Etymological? devnote: In teacher-mode - up for an in-depth, intellectual discussion Minsc: Eh. Just how-to-kill... -ical. devnote: Non-plussed, echoing Gale's ending every word with 'ical' Gale: Oh. Then for your purposes, they are exactly the same. devnote: Disappointed

this banter genuinely made me laugh. again, i like how it shows the progression of their friendship, to the point of where minsc goes from finding gale annoying to imitating his speech. and gale doesn't put it beyond minsc to have an 'in-depth, intellectual' discussion... even if he is disappointed by the end of their banter, realising that minsc's priorities are... elsewhere.

wychlaran

depending on your party composition and who you take with you, minsc can also call gale his wychlaran.

The Wychlaran, meaning "wise old women" in the ancient language of Halardrim, also known as the Witches of Rashemen outside their lands, were the spiritual leaders of Rashemen, communing with the spirits and guiding the souls of the Rashemi people.

minsc does use it, too, to describe a special bond and a sense of duty and protectiveness to the people he ascribes this title to. he did so in bg1 with dynaheir and in bg2 with aerie.

elminster

Minsc: It must be difficult for Gale to imagine great Elminster a-courting. Writing poems. Doing... certain... deeds. Gale: Long before my time, thank goodness. That's not an image I care to dwell on. Minsc: Ugh. It is difficult for Minsc to think of, too. Let us speak no more of it. Minsc: ... Minsc: Of Elminster and the sex, I mean.

another banter that did genuinely make me laugh despite the seriousness of the situation, especially given the bond that elminster and gale share as well, which speaks of paternal feelings on elminster's part that come with a certain sense of responsibility, as well as gale's admiration, but also often exasperation with his former mentor.

on a more serious note, minsc offers great insights in his interactions with gale and gale's story:

mystra and the vremyonni

The vremyonni or Old Ones were an arcane brotherhood in Rashemen. Men that were arcane spellcasters in Rashemen had two choices, exile or to join the vremyonni. Many vremyonni were kept alive for eons by longevity magic. Vremyonni were expert weaponsmiths and magic item creators. On very rare occasions, vremyonni would fight in the defense of Rashemen. Vremyonni used secrets of magic that even the Witches of Rashemen did not use, destructive spells forbidden among the wilds of Rashemen, in case such magic was needed. The Running Rocks harbored secret strongholds of the vremyonni. All vremyonni wore masks.

Minsc: Gale reminds me of the vremyonni of my homeland. The man-mages of Rashemen. Minsc: While the girl-folk go on to rule as wychlaran, Weave-touched boys were hidden away. Trained to work their craft in silence and secrecy. Minsc: It is an old custom, not well-observed. In truth I thought it born of caution, after some catastrophe wrought by wizardly men-folk of old. Minsc: Now I wonder if it was not done to hide them from Mystra, and the snares she sets for young and prideful boys, hm? Minsc: Though this suggests that Mystra has never tempted a witch into foolishness. Not that I would blaspheme by suggesting otherwise. Minsc: I forget why I began this long and winding story. Yes Boo - we have been spending too long around the wizard.

i think this is a very interesting banter, especially since it's also only marked to trigger if gale agrees to return the crown to mystra.

it's easy to dismiss this banter, laugh it off as just another instance of minsc being minsc, but i think it's important to consider it within the context of game canon and what has been shown to us.

it's a story and everything within a story is there for a reason.

another great insight from minsc comes if gale is pushed towards the crown by the player:

gale and godhood

Minsc: Who among us has not been spurned by a lover? But a word of advice, if Minsc may be so bold: Minsc: Let the wizard lick his wounds. Write some rickety rhymes, and weep most manfully into his hamster's hide. Eh - his cat's hide. Minsc: But... his boasting is unbecoming. 'Claim godhood', he says? Will this make him any less a man with a half-mended heart?

again, minsc does at times share great insight into other characters and he does so here again with gale:

will this make him any less a man with a half-mended heart?

i think it quite accurately goes straight to the crux of what makes it so very easy to push gale towards godhood: he is hurt. he feels abandoned. by his goddess. by his former lover. both as a mystran and on deeply personal level.

he is drifting, seeking something to hold his head above the water. if it's not the protag's love or friendship, it will be the crown.

anyhow, i never expected to write this when i first learned that minsc would be a companion, but i truly did enjoy him and his interactions with gale in particular.