#template is coming in a few days

[shadomeno]

An OC at this point

I drew all of frouse on a whiteboard at school but I forgot to take a picture 💔💔

ugly ^^

more accurate dooo... is ugly when doodled

I picked an expression template but these are some of my favourites:

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Random furry because I'm not going to make an individual post for a doodle

[riricatria]

Hello, hello, first post!

The template is heavily inspired by @cinnamonest, I'm a big fan ┴┬┴┤◕‿◕｡)

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CONTENT WARNINGS INCLUDE: Dark content (dead dove), cisfem!Reader, verbal abuse, physical abuse (blood, bruises), one (1) bone breaking, the general psychological stuff that comes with yandere (obsession, possessiveness, imprisonment...), vague talk about depression, forced non-smechxual touching, NONCON, periods, brief anal, fingering, brief overstim, oral in both directions, rough boombayah, predator/prey dynamics.

Disclaimers can be found in my pinned post.

S-FW

˗ˏˋ ★ 1. General look: How are they like? How do they behave around the darling? Are there any warning signs?

Mydei, Mydeimos, Son of Gorgo, the crown prince of Kremnos, Lil’ De, or the tall, handsome Chrysos Heir that only speaks rough words and puts a strange amount of effort into trying to best Phainon of Aedes Elysiae in whatever challenge they have made up that day. You don’t know him well. Very few people do, really.

He has a pretty face, a toned body, and a beautiful mane of hair that brings a large feline to mind. Very few people can truthfully say that he’s not an attractive guy. You’re not one of them, either: You have caught yourself eyeing the man a few times, just from afar. The gossip about him has reached your ears, they say that he’s actually a big softie (he sometimes plays with the children in his free time, they insist), but the aura he gives off is nothing but gruff. He doesn’t seem like the type to appreciate random people coming up to him to chat.

That, and you’ve gotten the picture that he isn’t particularly fond of your company. From how he looks at you in passing, it seems like he would rather be talking with the talking lion statue on the wall. He has a nasty habit of making his feelings known, too, you think. When you walk past him at the bathhouse, he might click his tongue in annoyance or fold his arms over his chest, rolling his eyes. Subconsciously, you begin taking the longer route around, just to make sure you don’t bump into him.

But what’s going on in his mind is the complete opposite of what you have gathered. He can’t get his eyes off of you. Maybe you’re just a random citizen that has moved in Okhema, wandering around the city, or maybe you’re with the Astral Express, completely new to the planet. Whatever it is, the moment he lays his gaze on you, it’s downhill from there.

He tries to deny it at first. That what’s growing inside of him isn’t infatuation, it’s actually just him finding you incredibly irritating and annoying and a waste of space and beautiful and mesmerizing and cute and-… this is the point where the tongue-click usually happens.

In a way, it’s convenient that he himself acts as the warning sign, although in a very reverse way. You think he can’t stand you, so naturally, you distance yourself from him, which is exactly what he does not want, but he can’t really help himself. The ball is already rolling (and the hill is so steep that the ball is basically just falling by this point), and you can do very little to prevent the continuum of events from happening.

Mydei is a bit peculiar in the sense that he doesn’t even attempt to court you in regular ways. No nice words, no compliments, no flowers, not even a hello, nothing. His brain just goes from ”oh she’s pretty” to ”I need to have her immediately” in the span of, like, ten minutes. It doesn’t take much brainwork, although he tries his absolute hardest to turn the whole set-up on its head in his mind. He isn’t one to fall in love, probably truly hasn’t in all of his years, even, so while the feeling is new to him. Still, he’s in control in the sense that he won’t make any rushed decisions.

The downside is that the said decisions that he ultimately settles on are… questionable at the very least. He’s a warrior at heart and very much used to getting what he wants, when he wants it. And what he wants is you, nothing less, nothing more. He almost feels entitled to you, in a way. Look at all he has done, look how incredible and strong he is, he deserves you. You’re nobody compared to him, you don’t get a say in the matter.

But at the same time, he’s terrified of the sheer humanness of the sentiment. He equates the feelings to a show of weakness (hence he tries to twist them into actually hating you), and it gnaws on his sense of self. You’re an obstacle, but at the same time, you’re a need.

So, then he starts stalking you. Or not stalking, it’s more about seeing how you go on about your day, walking around the city to maybe see what you’re up to, discreetly tailing you when you make your way home (it’s definitely stalking you). You begin seeing him more often in random places like at the market or at the plaza. His eyes always find yours for a moment before he makes a brief, sour expression. You start wondering if the crown prince really is that big of an ass, if he really dedicates precious time from his schedule to searching you out just to express his distaste towards you face-to-face. It’s ridiculous, you think, but even then, it’s up to you if you decide to change up your routes just to avoid him. Not that it’ll help; soon enough, you’ll start bumping into him again.

Mydei knows he’s being weird, or at least that his behaviour appears strange to you. Still, he rationalizes it in, quite frankly, a ridiculous way. Yeah, what he’s doing is strange, but because he’s a powerful figure, a Chrysos Heir, the warrior of Okhema, whatever he’s doing is not strange. Because he’s so far above everyone else. Obviously this is within his rights.

Phainon and Tribbie are the only ones that may comment on his activities. Tribbie is encouraging in the way that she tries to get Mydei to actually, you know, try to get you to like him. She very carefully suggests that the reverse-psychology trick he’s got going on may not yield very good results, she tries to direct him down the correct path, only to be faced with little to no results. Phainon is more humorous about it, teases him, might even come chat to you about him if he’s feeling mischievous. You, of course, don’t believe a word he says, you think he’s just trying to lift your mood or protect your self-esteem from the constant dirty looks, so you just end up rolling your eyes and telling him to tell Mydei to leave you alone. You would say it to the crown prince directly if it weren’t for the immediate public humiliation you would face, you reason.

However, in the end, it is Phainon that ends up being the catalyst and airing a proposal to Mydei which ultimately seals your fate. The two of them are chatting idly, maybe in the middle of their rivalry again, and Phainon speaks out a cheeky remark: ”Maybe you should just grab her for yourself if she’s that big of a deal to you”. Mydei is about to snap right back with a bicker, but when the sentence registers in his brain, he comes to think. Wait, what if…?

Surely, it would be alright. He’s the crown prince of Kremnos, a Chrysos Heir, he’s THE Mydeimos. Would it be that immoral of him to want something like that? Surely he has done enough for the city and its people to deserve this one thing? Surely he has suffered enough? And so, the final nail is hammered into your coffin.

˗ˏˋ ★ 2. Securing: How will they abduct their darling? When, where and how?

It’s quick, it’s sudden, it’s very vaguely thought-out, it’s rough.

The reason why the plan isn’t very calculated or meticulous is because he himself doesn’t see a need for it to be that way. It works, and that’s all that matters to him. There isn’t even any impulsivity to it, either, he just decides the day and time and goes with it.

He takes you from your own residence, likely in the city. The Okheman architecture is convenient in the way that the windows are wide open, and he uses that to his advantage. It’s late into the night, and he’s standing at the base of your apartment, looking up at what he knows is your bedroom window. It’s quite high up, but a leap of a dozen meters is nothing to his honed, immortal body.

You’re in your bed. The night is hot, and you’re wearing nothing but your sleeping attire. You have moved the blanket to the side, baring yourself to his scrutiny. You’re fast asleep.

It’s ridiculous how easy it is for him to just reach down and grab your body. It even takes you a moment to wake up from your slumber, to try to comprehend the situation you’re in, but by the time you actually open your eyes, there’s a gauntleted hand over your mouth and a rock-solid arm wrapped around your upper body.

You recognize the attacker. He sees your eyes widen, the way reality sinks in your mind. The terror is nearly tangible.

You think he’s going to kill you. That Mydeimos, the Chrysos Heir is actually going to murder you in your own home. His hand over your face prevents you from screaming out, and the arm is, with so little effort, restricting any and all movement. It’s petrifying, the way your life flashes before your eyes, your mind goes to the image of your friends finding your bloody corpse by the bed. How your loved ones will stand by your grave, mourning your destiny without possibly ever getting to know what happened to you.

But then, Mydei just tells you to shut up before hauling your body around and hoisting it up like you weigh nothing. And to him, you don’t. With one hand still on your mouth and the other holding you up and against him, he flees the room through the window and starts making his way to the ruins of Castrum Kremnos.

The trip to the castle is not a quick one. Even with his impressive speed, it takes a good while for you to reach the premises. That, and he’s sprinting with you in his arms. It wouldn’t even be an effort if it wasn’t for the way you’re trying to flail around, trying to punch him, squirm out of his grasp, make as much noise as possible. It almost makes him want to give your head a good bonk so you would go quiet. But he doesn’t. And soon enough, you reach his home city.

The plan being very vague includes that he doesn’t know exactly what he’s going to do with you once he reaches the place. You need a spot to stay, obviously, somewhere the titankin can’t reach you, where you can’t escape from, where you can comfortably stay for the better part of your day. That, at least for the time being, ends up being a small, dark room on one of the high towers of the castle. There’s not a lot of space, no furniture, only rubble and dust with a single, small opening in the wall where the light pools in from. The view is frankly depressing, even to his eyes.

After the crescent moon shaped lock clicks shut behind him, he finally sets you down and removes his hands from your body. The moment your feet hit the ground, you’re scrambling away until your back hits the opposite wall, creating as much space between you and him as you’re able. You point a finger up at him, eyes wide and a couple of tears spilling past your lashes, and you immediately start spitting profanities and questions at him, screaming your lungs out, threatening to tell the other Heirs. The act isn’t very convincing to him, though; he can see the way your knees buckle and your arms shake, the way your eyes dart around the room.

And he’s so nonchalant about it that you nearly explode. After haunting you for weeks on end, he has decided to, what, ”take you for himself”? You’re livid just as much as you’re terrified, but that does very little to wound his pride. He simply folds his arms and answers your questions with little to no compassion, stating things as matter-of-fact rather than even trying to console you.

Though, he does understand your concerns. He doubts anybody would find the experience of being kidnapped very pleasant. Then, you start yelling him about more trivial matters like ”where the fuck do you expect me to sleep here?!” and ”what the hell will I eat?”. These are the things that he hasn’t yet had time to arrange, and the points are valid in that sense. He himself doesn’t like sleeping on cold, hard ground, either. He should find you a mattress, he thinks, though he doubts there are any just lying around in the ruins.

Then you start complaining that it’s cold in there, and you’re only in your pyjamas, that everything is bad, horrible. He clicks his tongue in annoyance, raising his voice and telling you that you’ll sleep with him for tonight and that he’ll get you a bed tomorrow.

Your jaw hangs open at the sheer audacity of this man, but ultimately, you can’t do much when he walks to you in a few, long strides, grabs your body like a sack of flour, rests down by the wall and settles you in his lap. Obviously, you don’t just give up and go to sleep right away. Instead, you attempt to throw punches at him, kicking him to the best of your ability, trying to squirm out of his iron grip. It’s kind of funny to him, actually, and he makes it known by straight up laughing at your face. You can either go to sleep or fight him until the morning if you’d like, it won’t change anything, he scoffs at you. And, after struggling an hour or two, you go slack in his hold.

˗ˏˋ ★ 3. Life: What is it like to live with them? How do they treat the darling?

It’s less than ideal at first. Considering the factor that you don’t have all the comforts of your previous home like, eh, a bed, the first few days are especially rough. You’re alone for a good portion of your day, locked away in a small room with practically nothing to do. Your only source of light is the small window, and even with it, you’re mostly encased in dimness. The door is firmly locked, and the window is so small in size that your shoulders and you don’t think your hips would squeeze through it even if you tried. You contemplate on finding out for yourself, but for now, you don’t, since you have bigger things to worry about, such as making sure you don’t die of thirst while he’s away.

Conveniently, the moon symbol on the lock starts spinning just as you start worrying, the door opens. Mydei steps into the room and tells you to get up. When you fail to immediately comply, he walks over to you and grabs you by the arm. You protest, telling him that you’re able to walk on your own two feet, but it isn’t until you voluntarily take proper steps without dragging that he lets you not be carried.

He takes you to a different part of the castle. It’s much cleaner, there’s less rubble, less dust here. He leads you past the hallways and to a larger door embedded in the wall. Behind it, you find a more spacious, furnished room. There’s a sizable, plush bed, there’s a shelf, there’s a door to what you assume is the bathroom, a desk, a chair. He leads you in with a firm hand on your upper back. There’s a large window on the east wall, one you could easily fit through. You make a mental note of it.

Everything you need is in the room. There’s even a bowl of pomegranates on the desk. It takes a moment for the puzzle pieces to click together in your brain. Albeit expressionless, Mydei’s eyes keenly observe your reaction from the way your brows knit together to how you look around the room in confusion. And then you start lashing out again, telling him how there’s ”no fucking way that you're gonna live in some monster-filled ruins with zero social contacts and activities”. Huh, activities? Oh, of course. You need something to entertain yourself with when he’s away on his business and whatnot. In a dismissive voice, he promises to do something about it tomorrow, but for tonight, the two of you are sleeping in your brand new bed (he holds you while you writhe and scratch at him).

In the following day, as he promised, he gets you something to busy yourself with. He’ll visit the market or the Grove to get you a book or two. He’ll go around the city and get you some snacks. Mydei would be lying through his teeth if he said that he knows exactly what you like, but the idea is still there. Besides, if the stuff doesn’t suit your preferences, he can just bring you more.

It takes a few days for you to warm up to the idea of accepting his gifts. After hours and hours on end of sitting around doing nothing but sleeping and staring at the ceiling, you finally pick up the book he brought you. It’s not particularly interesting; just some tales about the Titans and such, but opposed to spending even one more minute in complete boredom, you would much rather have this.

Mydei also takes you outside regularly. Some days he’s not able to spend too much time with you during the day, but even then, he knows the importance of sunlight exposure and fresh air. So, the two of you may walk around the ruins for a bit, he takes you to different parts of the castle at first. Then, if you don’t show too much resistance, he might start taking you back to Okhema, albeit on very limited terms. It’s only in hidden areas, mostly those where only the Heirs are allowed to enter. You’re strictly prohibited from talking to anyone, too, and if you do, you’ll never see the city again, he threatens. You mostly get to wander around a bit — under his watchful eye, of course. You even get to talk to Phainon a few times since Mydei seems to trust him enough to have you around him.

Furthermore, Mydei attempts to make it so that you’ll get to bathe in the bathhouse once a day, or at least every two days. Oftentimes, that ends up being the highlight of your nights. He rarely demands anything from you during those times, so you’ll get to have some peace for yourself.

In contrast, moments you dread the most are those when he’s actually forcing you to spend time with him. If he doesn’t have anything better to do (and you’re considerably high up on his list of priorities), he might just sit around in your room and stare at you until you give him attention. Attention meaning that you’ll talk to him, and even then he’ll pretend to be somewhat uninterested just to save face. You don’t know if he does it on purpose or if that’s really how dense he is, but the only way to eventually get him to leave you alone is to entertain him. What a prick. He would love to hold you, too, if you’d just let him. And he might do it even if you’re less than willing.

Your life falls into a cycle of sorts. You wake up with Mydei (typically encased in his arms), he gets you food, he leaves for his business for a few hours, you stay in your room, he comes back, you spend time with him, he might take you outside, night rolls around, you get to go to the baths, you come back, you go to sleep, encased in his arms, naturally.

If you’re lucky, he might even move you back to Okhema a few months into your captivity. This is only if you’ve been on your best behaviour, though. And if you attempt an escape, you’ll go right back to square one.

˗ˏˋ ★ 4. Rules: What kind of rules do they enforce? How lenient are they? How do they keep their darling in check?

He doesn’t actually have a thought-out set of rules for the darling. He expects you to have common sense, to understand unspoken expectations. It’s mostly just things like ”don’t escape” and ”don’t break stuff” and ”do what I say”. He never speaks these things out loud, but they have become quite clear to you. If you do something that displeases him, he lets you know in non-verbal ways like roughly grabbing you by the arm.

Other than the basics, he doesn’t really care what you do when you’re in your own room since there’s nothing much that could cause harm to you (or him) there. Mydei, if anybody, knows that it’s important not to restrict a person too much if you want them to remain happy, so he doesn’t intervene with your me-time too much. He won’t let you roam around, though — not without him, anyway. You’re going to stay locked up in your room.

If you’ve proven to be untrustworthy (an escape attempt, trying to hurt him, that sort of thing), he’ll keep you chained to the bed by one of your ankles with a heavy leg iron. If you’re actively trying to hurt yourself, he might shackle your hands to the bedposts, too. He won’t let you out of your bindings until you’ve been compliant for a good amount of time.

Aside from the physical restrictions, his presence alone is enough to keep you on good behaviour most of the time. You’re much too scared to attempt anything under his watchful eye, and he’s very aware of this himself. Most of the time, he utilizes the effect he has on you, to keep you in check. Though, at times, he thinks it would be nice if you just remained pliant by your own volition. Frightening you is somewhat counter-intuitive if his goal is to get you to like him, after all.

˗ˏˋ ★ 5. Consequences: What kind of punishments will the darling face? How do they punish different offences?

Oh, it’s not pretty. As stated, Mydei (in the eye of the public, anyway) isn’t known to be a very gentle person, and that translates to how he will deal with a disobedient darling. He’s quite an irritable man in general, so even the mildest offences can earn a disproportionately violent reaction from him.

Mydei has got a sharp tongue. He isn’t a man of many words, but at the same time, he most definitely isn’t one to spare any of them if need be. That being said, his most likely response to the smallest misdemeanours is a few harsh words. It doesn’t even need to be an actual offence, really. It can be things such as accidentally dropping a plate on the floor, or even something like making an expression that didn’t appease him at the moment. He will comment on it, berating you in that aggressive yet indifferent tone of his. He calls you things like ”insolent thing”, ”weak fool” or ”puny woman” and follows them with an insult directed at whatever you did wrong.

Note that scolding is the mildest possible consequence you can receive, and it, too, is heavily dependent on his mood. If he’s having a particularly bad day, even something as miniscule as you stumbling on something could be enough to have him grab you by the shoulder and throw you right back into your room.

The mildest of wrongdoings aside, the punishment for deliberate acts of disobedience is almost always physical. He’s incredibly strong, so even if he doesn’t actually mean to hurt you, the way he manhandles you is usually painful enough to get the point across. Talking back at him, rejecting his touches, refusing to eat out of spite, such things commonly earn you pain in one form or another. If he’s feeling merciful, he may just yank you by your arm and have his gauntlet dig into your skin as he verbally degrades you. If his mood is less than ideal, he might even grab you by the hair and push you to the ground, lightly (although it doesn’t feel like that to you) dig his heel into your side until you get the point. And usually, by then, you’ve swallowed whatever spite you had.

Mydei isn’t one to be psychologically cruel about his methods of punishment. The most deliberate mental torment you might face with him is being locked in your room for a few hours, and, if he’s being completely truthful, that’s more for him than you, as well. Not having you in his immediate vicinity gives him a chance to cool down and rethink what is a suitable consequence for you — this way he doesn’t cave in to his first instinct which is to physically hurt you.

Your privileges may very well get revoked if you misbehave. If you continuously spit back at him or show defiance in other ways, he might just take your means of entertainment away. Oh, you pulled away when he tried to embrace you? That book he had got you a few days ago will be locked away for the day. You yelled at him (after he called you weak and incapable)? He’s not going to take you for a walk today, you’re just going to have to spend time with him inside. See how it feels.

When it comes to the most serious of offences, though, that’s when his worst sides come out. His response is very in-the-moment, rough, and uncontrolled. He has a hard time keeping his own strength in check at these times.

Most likely into the early weeks of your captivity, you’ll get a first taste of how Mydei is when he’s really mad. You’re about to commit your first escape attempt, you’re going to try to flee the ruins he has trapped you in. It’s not much, but you’ve prepared yourself a make-shift dagger (to stab him if need be and to defend yourself from the titankin roaming the place), and you’re pretty sure that you can make the jump off the balcony and to the building on the other side.

It’s one of those days when he goes out to Okhema — Chrysos Heir business or something, you’re not really sure and asking him about it has proven mostly futile — and you’re good to go. He naively trusts you to have enough common sense not to try to leap into your death via the open window, and the time to take advantage of that has come.

You make the jump, only barely managing to cling onto the window sill and succeeding in pulling yourself into safety. This room is not locked, and you’re able to make your way down the staircase and out of the building.

The ruins are difficult to navigate, there’s rubble everywhere, there are strange mechanisms that you’re unable to operate, and most horrifyingly, the monsters are everywhere. You’re scared, terrified, running for your life through the collapsing bridges and twisting hallways. However, with your objective in mind, you gather your strength and wander further.

It’s obvious, it should’ve been obvious to you as well, but you were never destined to make it far. Not even fifteen minutes into your stunt, blood-curdling, other-wordly shrieks and the sound of creatures twice your size being thrown into walls catches up with you. By this point, you know it’s over, but despite the inevitable, you still continue sprinting for the remaining twenty seconds you have left until a hand finds your shoulder.

You’re jerked backwards in a movement so violent that it throws you straight onto the ground. Then, in a blink of an eye, Mydei’s armoured fingers dig into your scalp, grabbing a fistful of hair before he pulls your head off the floor. He doesn’t utter a word, and you make the mistake of straining your neck to take a look at his face.

His nostrils are flared, his eyes are blown wide, and he’s panting out in rapid, deep breaths as if he’s holding onto the last ounces of self-restraint he has. He silently glares you in the eye for a good few seconds before he mushes your face against the floor. You can screech and cry out your desperation, you can try and beg him to stop, but that won’t deter him from pressing your cheek against the marble until you’re sure there’s a bruise forming on the side of your head. At this point, he will begin spouting profanities and insults at you, first hissing and growling before it builds up to full-blown yelling. Some of it is berating you for putting yourself in mortal danger, but a good part of it is just shouting at you for the sake of it. He exercises his status that way. It’s loud and guttural, and it would get the point across even without the words.

After a long while, he will yank your now limp body off the ground and throw it over his shoulder. If you decide that you still have one in you at this point, he just might throw you on the ground like a ragdoll and actually step on you. It would be the wisest to just accept your fate at this point.

The scariest part, however, comes when you’re back at where he keeps you. He reaches your room, and as the door slides shut behind him, he drops you down without care and with so much force that you don’t even get a chance to find solid footing. You fall onto the floor butt first, but before you can even try to scramble back up, his fingers are wrapped around your wrist.

There’s still that same, frenzied look in his eyes when his hold tightens, the metal claws pierce your skin. You can howl in pain all you want, you can try to thrash around. His grip won’t loosen, even when he yanks you up from the floor and grabs you by the head with his free hand. He resumes hissing curses at you while he practically dangles you in the air. His hold just becomes firmer, he presses harder, his fingers burrow deeper. Your cries grow louder, more panicked, as the pressure becomes unbearable, something is going to break, something is going to-

And then, he hears the sickening, distinct crack of a bone snapping. The sound is immediately accompanied by an animalistic shriek so loud that he can’t believe it’s from your mouth. He lets go of your body, and you drop to the ground on your knees. You wail in pain, eyes saucer-wide with terror as you clutch on your wrist with a wildly trembling hand. His eyes fixate on the purple splotch that’s now forming under your skin.

Your howls of pain don’t stop, even as your breathing becomes so laboured that you can barely get a coherent sound out. Your gaze flicks from your wrist to him, to the door, at his face, back at your wrist, back at him, all the while you rock your shaking body back and forth in your delirium. Fat tears spill down your cheeks, and a line of snot streams over your upper lip as you screech out unintelligible sounds. You’re gasping for air like you’re drowning, you’re wheezing hysterically, the colour is draining from your face.

It hurts so bad. You’re not sure which bone it is, maybe it’s one of the long ones on your forearm, maybe it’s one the hand’s side, but all you know is that it feels like your wrist has been lit on fire. You didn’t think he could do this to you, you didn’t believe he would ever go this far. And neither did he, truthfully.

Mydei has no idea what to do. He vaguely understands that he has crossed the line, he comprehends what has happened, but the red-hot rage is still fogging his judgment and blinding his vision. His gaze flickers from your quivering hand to your terror-struck expression, to his own hand still half-extended, back at your form, back at his hand.

He takes a step towards you. You let out a scream that could surely be heard by the titankin outside if he hadn’t just eradicated a good half of them. He gets closer, and you wildly kick your legs, completely uncoordinated, to either try to create distance in between you and him or pathetically attempt to defend yourself from him.

Either way, all his fury-clouded mind can think of doing is crouching down to your level, grabbing your head and covering your mouth and nose. Naturally, you only wail and flail harder in response, but he keeps his palm slotted against your airways. You can’t breathe. He repeatedly yells at you to calm down, but his tone of voice is doing nothing to further the cause. It’s only when you’re sure that you’re going to pass out that he lets go of your face. After you go right back to hyperventilating, he slaps his hand back down. It’s messy, it’s loud, it’s terrifying, it’s violent. The cycle repeats until you lie limp in his arms, eyes unfocused, legs twitching, drool staining the side of your mouth. You don’t remember much after that point.

The aftermath is just as rough. It’s only after a few hours that you’ve calmed down enough to be able to assess your own situation. Mydei has left you alone in your room, one leg chained to the bed, to go ”calm down” but judging from the noise from outside, he’s doing anything but that. At this point, you’re much too tired to even try to grasp the reality aside from the apparent bruise swelling around your entire wrist, or to even entertain the thought of another escape plan.

You don’t talk about it afterwards. He doesn’t seem to care, obviously he doesn’t apologize, he never really does. He makes an attempt to nurse the appendage, wrap something around it, put a splint on it. If it’s really bad, he may even bring you to Hyacine (and stare a hole through the back of her head the entire time she works) and let her heal you. After that, the circumstances return back to what he would call normal, but you swear you can sometimes see him flinch when your shoulder or knee pops.

˗ˏˋ ★ 6. Emotions I: How do they show love? How do they attempt to make the darling love them?

Mydei is a… difficult person in this sense. His only ever verbal show of emotion seems to be that of annoyance. It’s the huffs, the way he clicks his tongue, the aggressive stance, and then the words. You can’t recall many times you’ve seen him smile. Still, despite his harsh tongue and tough shell, deep in his heart, he still wants his darling to love him. So, he does his best to show love through actions rather than words.

During the first few days of your captivity, he doesn’t really touch you aside from when he has to move you or carry you. However, further in, you find his hands wandering on you more and more often. It starts with little touches on the shoulders and arms, more to grab your attention than anything, but then it evolves to touching your hair, your hands, your lower back, your sides. He never gives you a warning before he subtly closes the distance between the two of you, he doesn’t speak a word when the palms of his hands caress down your arms, making their way to your hands, back up your shoulders, over to your hair where he picks out a strand and twirls it between his fingers. Moments like these are extremely vulnerable to him, so if you decide to open your mouth during them, be prepared for a prickly response.

As he feels you under his fingertips, he’s hit with the realization of how frail you truly are. He becomes aware of how easy it would be for him to snap your femur clean in half with a single hand, how tiny your hands are compared to his, how little force he would have to use to shatter your skull. The thought terrifies him, only gives more fuel to the instinct to keep you locked away from the world.

He ends up making his way behind you and has you pause whatever it is that you’re busy with. You perk up as you feel the metal on the back of his gauntlets slowly trail down your back, making out the curve of your spine under your clothing, feeling your warmth. It’s the only way he can rid himself of these thoughts.

He also loves to do mundane things like cook for you. He surprisingly takes pride in his culinary skills, so preparing food for you is one of the most intimate things he will do. Furthermore, if you show a positive response when he brings you a plate of a home-cooked version of whatever food you had once mentioned that you liked, he will remain in exceptionally good spirits for the rest of the day. Beware that if you refuse the gesture, he might not do it again for a considerable amount of time.

Mydei occasionally brings you little trinkets and such from whenever he visits Okhema. They’re little things like flowers or jewellery, maybe even more stuff to entertain yourself with like literature or painting supplies. If you ask him about the habit, his response is always a defensive huff and something along the lines of ”I’ll take them back if you don’t want them”, but when you hastily shake your head and tell him that you like them, his shoulders visibly relax. If you’re feeling daring, you could ask him for a specific item, and if he’s in a pleasant mood, the request may even be fulfilled. Given that you’ve been good, that is.

Though he enjoys all the aforementioned things, if there’s one thing he really, truly loves, it’s bathing with you. Even though it’s basically a daily thing, it’s something that makes his heart swell up with contentment.

It’s only really late into the evening, only when everybody else has left the Hero’s Bath, when he brings you out into some small, remote corner of the bathhouse and plants your butt in the pleasantly warm water. He never speaks a word when he does so, only strips himself of his clothes (save for a towel around his hips) and sits right beside you, arms folded and thighs spread. It’s surprisingly serene in his company in these moments: he rests still in the bath, head tilted backwards, eyes closed. You can’t say you’re exactly relaxed yourself, the bathing suit you insisted on him giving you is a bit too loose around certain areas to your taste, but the hot, steaming air does manage to calm your nerves, even if only a little.

And then he opens his eyes, lets out a huff like he’s displeased, and turns to you. His ungloved fingers wrap around your upper arm, and he mutters out a ”come here” before dragging your body over to his lap. You don’t even have time to protest before the rough pads of his fingers slide your shoulder straps down, baring your upper body to him. If you start complaining, he might snarl at your struggling, saying that ”he can only see your back anyway” before telling you to stay still. And you do.

He reaches for a basket by the edge of the bath and grabs a bottle of some ointment, maybe soap, you’re not really sure. He pops the container open, and soon you feel his hand smearing the substance all over your shoulders and back. He isn’t particularly soft with the motions, no, but it’s gentle for his standards. His palms glide along your skin, sometimes pressing a bit firmer, effectively lulling you into a state of at least moderate tranquillity. Then he rinses your skin before picking out another bottle, and the actions repeat. It’s best if you stay silent; He might just dip your face in the water if you don’t keep your comments to yourself.

Oh, and if you’re in your manipulation era and you’re up for gaining some leniency from him, he will absolutely melt if you offer to do the same for him. He may even refuse the first couple of times, not believing that you’d actually want to do that, but keep insisting, and he will cave in. And, not that he would tell you, but it’s one of the most euphoric experiences in his long lifetime.

˗ˏˋ ★ 7. Emotions II: How do they deal with the darling’s emotions? How are outbursts handled? How do they attempt to comfort the darling?

Much like with how he shows love, dealing with the darling’s own feelings is less about words and more about actions. His words might even make the situation worse, he has noticed. You tend to flinch at his voice, no matter what it is that comes out of his mouth. It’s especially when you’re in a sorry state, either angry or depressed, that you seem unable to be comforted verbally.

If you lash out at him, his go-to is just throwing you back in your room for a cooldown. There’s nothing much to break there, you can throw your blanket around at most, you can bang on the door, you can scream. It’ll tire you out, too, and you have a habit of falling asleep after the flame has burned out, he has noticed.

Or, if you’re being an active risk to yourself (and him, though you could never actually do more than graze his skin), he might resort to holding you down or against him until you calm down. This method is less of a punishment and more of a necessary effort, despite you being sore after as his grip is quite tight. The most words you’ll get out of him during these moments is him telling you to cut it out and calm down in his gruff tone.

When it comes to a teary and sorrowful darling, he tends to take a softer approach. In such moments, you don’t really pose a physical threat anyway, so restricting you would be of no use. You don’t really come to him when you’re sad, believing that having him around would only bring you down further, but he himself is inclined to seek you out. It’s a protective instinct, he reassures himself, because your form appears even weaker than usual then. Not because he’s worried about you or anything.

Mydei has a hard time accepting the fact, and he would never say it out loud, but deep inside, he’s a gentle soul. That’s why seeing you in both physical and (especially) mental pain brings him great anguish.

Still, in spite of that, if he were to find you balled up in your room, quietly sobbing with your face buried against your knees, his first impulse is not trying to soothe you. For a good while, he can only stand a short distance away from you, gazing down at you with an unreadable expression. He observes the situation silently, and if it looks like you have no intention of trying to bash his skull in, he will come closer. He will take you up into his arms before sitting down on the bed with you in his lap. Usually, you’re in no state to refuse his affections at this point, so you just rest your face against his broad chest and sniffle. If he senses that you’re particularly receptive, he might stroke his hand up and down your head and back.

He only stops when you fall asleep in his hold (and it’s the only way to get him to stop, so if you want him gone, you can pretend to sleep). He will set you on the mattress with uncharacteristic tenderness, tuck you in and leave for a little while. If you ask him about his conduct later, his reaction is defensive, he’s obviously a bit flustered about it, but he will repeat the same pattern nonetheless if the situation demands it.

One of the few good things that can come out of you being miserable for days on end is that he might come home one day with a special gift to you. He mutters something along the lines of ”I’ll take it back if you don’t take care of it”, and sets a decently sized, fabric-clad box in your lap. You look at him with your fatigued eyes, then at the item, then back at him… until the thing moves. Mydei doesn’t make an effort to exit the room, only looking down at you, expressionless, so you decide to go ahead and see what the package contains.

The cover slides off what you come to see is a small cage. Your mouth falls ajar as you see what he has got you: Inside the bars rests a small, orange chimera. The animal looks up at you with its huge, round eyes, tilting its disproportionately large head to the side, wagging its little tail.

Mydei swears that, for the first time in what feels like forever, he sees a tinge of curiosity in your dull gaze as you observe the creature in your lap. With trembling hands, you bring your fingers to the latch and open it. The chimera immediately flees the containment, leaping down from your thighs and proceeding to run circles around the room while panting excitedly. Mydei watches as your gaze follows the thing, your expression conveying nothing short of awe. He wants to burn this image to his retinas, to savour the look of wonder on your face. Even if it’s only for now.

˗ˏˋ ★ 8. Thing to exploit: What are the darling’s best chances at escaping? Are there things the darling can use to their advantage? How can the darling make things easier for themselves?

Your best bet at fleeing is Tribbie. It’s not Phainon, it’s not Castorice, it’s not Aglaea, it’s Tribbie.

On your own, you won’t make it further than a few hundred meters away from your room before Mydei catches up to you and brings you back flailing. The ruins are much too difficult to traverse, and besides, he knows the layout like the back of his hand, and he’s almost never gone long enough for you to attempt an actual escape that way. So, your only bet is to get yourself a helping hand.

Castorice will turn a blind eye to your suffering. She knows that Mydei is hiding someone in the ruins, and maybe she would like to help, but she ultimately decides that maybe it’s for the best not to intervene. She values peace over it. Aglaea will not care. It may even be beneficial for the Kremnoan warrior to have something to take his aggression out on, she thinks.

You think that Phainon is the most likely to help you — you might even meet him a couple of times when he finds his way to Castrum Kremnos — but he’s actually the worst of the bunch. He may very well have his own darling back at Okhema at this point, too.

You get the chance to talk to Phainon alone for a minute when Mydei goes to fetch something. Even knowing that your time frame is very limited, you don’t hesitate to immediately drop to your knees in front of him and start begging for him to help you escape. However, he only gives you a sympathetic smile in response. For a moment, you think that he’s actually going to aid you, but then he places his hand on the crown of your head and ruffles your hair. ”He can be rough sometimes, I know”, he laughs softly. Your heart sinks.

But Tribbie will, no doubt, take enough pity on you to consider helping you. The only issue is that you and her may never come into contact with each other. Tribbie has little to no business in the ruined city, and it may very well be that she doesn’t even really know about your situation. However, if you somehow manage to catch her attention and tell her about your circumstances, she may offer to send you away. Maybe it’s unlocking the route for you, maybe she even uses the Century Gate to get you out, but after that, you’re on your own. And, it doesn’t need to be mentioned that the crown prince will hunt you down to the ends of the planet if need be. You should know that he won’t fail that mission, either.

So, if you want to truly regain your freedom, you need to leave Amphoreus altogether. In this regard, your best chance is the Astral Express. Find them, drop to their feet, pray for them to help, and maybe they’ll extend their aid to you. If the Express is not around —well, good luck.

Escaping aside, there is one simple thing to exploit if you want your life to be easier. That is to just be nice and loving to him. Mydei would like to call himself a perceptive person, he wants to say that he sees through your little tricks, but if you show him the slightest bit of affection, he will melt. Touch his bare arm, say a nice thing or two, search out his company, and his fierce exterior will turn to mush. It has to be consistent, though: the first few times he might even brush you off, thinking that you’re just trying to manipulate him (which is exactly what you’re trying to do), but keep it coming, and he will cave in. This will bring you more privileges like time outside, more things to entertain yourself with, and he might even let you meet the other Heirs on a more regular basis if you’ve been compliant enough.

On the top of the list of stuff you should not do is talking about his parents. He will start tweaking, and the consequences of that are never pleasant. You find out quickly that his past is something that’s usually risky to bring up in any context. Very few things can wound his pride, but you are special in that sense because just about anything you say might be a blow to his ego in one way or another. It’s a 50/50 whether that brings you closer to your objective or if it makes him chain your ankle to the bed again.

˗ˏˋ ★ 9. Further notes: Is there anything that sets them apart from the other yanderes? What unique qualities do they possess?

”There’s no word for ’flee’ in the Kremnoan language”, ”there’s no word for ’fear’ in the Kremnoan language”, ”there’s no word for ’betrayal’ in the Kremnoan language”, yada-yada-yada. Are there any fucking words in this fuckass language, you start to wonder.

Well, the words the language does seem to have are all battle, all insult, all challenge. He is a warrior at heart, of course, and that does bleed into your life with him. Especially if you’re a particularly feisty type of a darling, be prepared to fight for your privileges, literally.

It may start as something simple like you asking for help picking up a book, one that you can’t reach, it’s too high up on the shelf. He says that ”okay, sure, he’ll get it for you”, but then as he picks it out for you, he holds it over your head, just out of your reach. He dangles it right there, and you can see the way the corners of his mouth are tugging up in amusement. So, you jump and try to grab the item. He pulls it higher. You try to jump again, he dodges. If there’s one thing he’s really talented at, it’s riling you up in the worst of ways.

He won’t give you the damn book, not until you have basically climbed up his body and grabbed the stupid thing with your legs wrapped around his torso. And during your attempt, he spews out snarky comments like ”you think you’re so strong, then prove it” and ”you can’t even touch it. Pathetic”, and it makes you so livid that eventually there are red marks on his skin from you trying to claw at his bare bicep. Insufferable fuck. He even drops the ”HKS”-bomb on you. Irreparable damage.

On a completely different note, on the gentler side of things, you come to find that Mydei is completely unable to initiate any physical affection through words. There’s no come here, no hey, let me, and most certainly no may I. If he’s craving your touch, his method of going on about it is just… taking it. You may be doing something completely unrelated, maybe reading your book, maybe stretching, maybe eating, and he just comes behind you and grabs you by the waist. He just pulls you away from your activity, your back against his chest, hoists you up into the air. He walks to the bed or couch or even the floor with you in his arms before settling down in a comfortable position. He buries his nose in your hair and closes his eyes. Beware that you’ll be staying in that position for a while, so get cosy.

He strokes up and down your arms, he might play with your hair, trace the lines on your hand, rub your feet, all the while he remains completely silent. If you take a look at his face, you’ll come to find that he doesn’t look like he’s really enjoying himself, even though that couldn’t be farther from the truth. It’s another one of the times where you really should not open your mouth if you value your peace.

It’s much too embarrassing, much too vulnerable to verbally ask for your touch, he seems to think. He can’t let you know that his clarity of mind depends on these instances, even though it’s so painfully obvious that you want to tear chunks of his beautiful, blond hair off. However, on the brighter side, you should know that he’s going to be in a good mood after these sessions, so if there’s something you’re planning to request from him, cuddling him is a good start.

Out of all of his quirks, perhaps the most intriguing one is that Mydei has a very strange way of viewing you in general. You, as in your existence and being. On one hand, he sees you as frail, fragile, completely on the mercy of others and incapable of defending yourself. Then, on the other, he knows you’re a strong personality, you don’t give up easily, and that makes him want to test your limits in both mind and body. It gives him a kind of a thrill to hold that power over you.

The latter manifests in the bickering and insults, the physical strain he makes you go through to get what you want, what you need from him. He may even go as far as taking you outside, pointing at a random (very tall) boulder and going ”if you can climb on top of that, I’m going to take you to Okhema tomorrow”. You take the bait both out of spite and just, well, desperation. And you obviously don’t make it higher than a meter or two. He laughs at your unsuccessful attempts to scramble up the uneven surface, he lets you try for as long as you’d like, and unsurprisingly, it doesn’t take that long for you to tire yourself out. After you’re left sprawled on the ground, all sweaty and chest heaving, he will simply pick you up with a mocking chuckle before taking you back inside. All the while he walks about how weak you are. Fuck his ass.

An unexpected consequence of these ”trials” is that you notice improvements in your physical abilities. You don’t tire out nearly as quickly as before, you’re stronger, you can run farther. It’s a plus, sure, but you still haven’t managed to complete any of the challenges he has presented you with, and you doubt you ever will because the difficulty has only gone up.

In contrast, the times he will treat you like you could crumble into dust in his hands are when you’re in actual pain, either physical or mental. More often than not, both are a result of his own actions (which he doesn’t know how to feel about). He would like to state the opposite, but it seems that he’s really not in control of his own strength or words when he loses his cool, and it’s especially obvious when you’ve been ”acting up”.

In the aftermath of the times he has crossed the line, he tends to go quiet, gathering your trembling form in his arms and moving you over to a better spot. It’s in these moments that he expresses regret in his actions (non-verbally, obviously), stroking your hair with his hand, pressing your ear against his chest to listen to his elevated heartbeat. It almost makes you feel like a pet, in a way, it’s kind of dehumanizing how quickly he can go from angry and brutish to caring and serene. And, he tends to be a little more soft with you in the following couple of days.

One more thing, Mydei would absolutely love to braid your hair for you. He has the situation completely envisioned in his mind: You’re sitting between his thighs, back facing his chest, and he’s tenderly holding locks of your hair in between fingers. His hands brush through the strands, meticulous and careful, weaving the portions together into several plaits, making you look like a noble Kremnoan maiden. He hasn’t yet had the courage to suggest it.

Oh, and he would probably ascend right then and there if he got you to wear the same hairstyle as him, the singular braid that rests on one of his shoulders. The two of you could match, but even the thought of that is so intimate to him that he has to actually shake his head to rid himself of the image before the blush reveals his thoughts to you.

NS-FW

˗ˏˋ ★ 10. General look: How does their sexuality manifest? What does sex mean to them? How horny are they?

Mydei’s entire form is all aggression, all muscle, all testosterone, very little chill (except for the arguably cotton-soft core). It’s not a surprise that it all carries to the sexual aspects as well. He would never admit it out loud, but for the lack of a better term, he’s an extremely horny individual. He’s all hot, all go-go-go, and on some days, his drive is through the roof.

In the first few weeks of having you around, he doesn’t even entertain the idea of touching you beyond what is strictly necessary to keep you in check and to prevent himself from going insane. However, after a while, his eyes start to wander. He’s always been aware of it, but damn, you have a very nice figure. It’s a shame that you prefer to wear loose, flowing fabrics. The dip of your waist, the curve of your chest, your thighs… He finds himself thinking of how easy exactly it would be to just pick you up, throw you to the bed and have his way with you. From your point of view, the guy is standing a few meters away from you, hands folded, back straight, and his pants straining at his crotch. You don’t know whether to laugh, scrunch your face up in disdain, or be utterly terrified at the insinuation.

He turns to the help of his own hand a lot during this period. He can’t get the image of you out of his head, and Aeons forbid, when he gets to see your bare back in the baths. He beats it to that, almost being able to recall how your skin felt under his fingers, how warm it was, how warm other areas of you would be. He sees it in his mind, how you look under him, how your face is contorts in pleasure, how your-, aaand he shoots his load in his hand.

Your presence only manages to make him twice as horny as usual. He won’t talk about it, of course he won’t, but you do see him subtly adjust his trousers every once in a while. He doesn’t have any mental restrictions about sex in normal circumstances, he occasionally even participates in raunchy talk with people like Phainon, but it has proved to be a bit more arduous to control his urges when the reason for them is sitting at a touching distance away from him.

˗ˏˋ ★ 11. Limit: How long does it take for them to have the darling? What is the first time like? Do they care about the darling’s willingness?

You have a generous grace period of around three weeks. In that time frame, he won’t touch you sexually or force you to do anything beyond hugging him, but after that, his patience begins to run thin. Why do you have to be so alluring, why are you swinging your hips like that when you walk, why do you reveal your neck to him when you adjust your hair, why must you exist? Your mere presence is driving him wild. And eventually, he knows he needs to have you beyond some surface-level touches.

It would be easier, admittedly, if you’d agree to it out of your own volition. He attempts to gain access to you in his usual ways, just taking you to the bed, maybe climbing on top of you and hovering his face just above yours. He wishes from the deepest pits of his heart that you wouldn’t refuse his advances. Nevertheless, your stance regarding the matter becomes apparent when both of your hands land on his forehead and shove him away. You’re not pleased with the situation he has put you in, clearly, and that frustrates him.

He would really like to think that he’s above taking you against your will, that he has other methods available to him, that he’ll make you like him enough, soon enough, to not have to resort to that. However, as more days go by, he realizes that you might be even more reluctant than he originally thought.

So, eventually, it’s inevitable that he reaches his limit one day. He throws your body over his shoulder with very little effort and makes his way towards the bed before dropping you down on the mattress. By this point, you’re already anticipating that something dreadful is about to happen, and you do your best to squirm away, flailing your limbs until one of his hands snatches both of your wrists in a tight grip. He restricts your movement with ease, holding your body down with strength so immense that you give up on the physical resistance almost immediately. Instead, you begin screaming, shaking your head, spitting curses at him all the while he looks down at you with blown pupils and rapid breaths.

This is the point of no return, he thinks, and this once, he can forgive himself for indulging. You’ll be better off like this, anyway. It’s only the first time that you’ll be as terrified as you are. After it’s off the list, you’ll be much more receptive — or that’s what he hopes for, at least, because right now, you’re being less than agreeable.

After his free hand yanks the top of your dress down, you realize the true weight of the situation. In response, to his dismay, you start crying. By this point, the profanities have turned into begging for him to stop whatever he’s about to do, but your frantic voice does very little to sway his will. It does manage to elicit some sympathy, actually, but it’s not in the form you would like it to be. He only pauses his actions for a moment to bring his hand to your cheek, moving your hair away from your face. And then he tells you to calm down and just stay still. And then he goes right back to what he was doing.

The fabric that shields your breasts from his view falls to the side, and he can finally lay his eyes on what he has had to imagine for the last couple of months. Your nipples are perked up from the chill, your chest is heaving up and down in the rhythm of your panicked breaths. You’re irresistible, he thinks. His fingers glide in between the two mounds, trailing down your stomach, reaching your lower abdomen where his hand rests for a moment.

The bottom of your clothing is yanked down along with your underwear. With very little warning, you have been completely bared under his ravenous stare. You air a few more pleas for him to stop, but the volume of your voice has died down to a mere whisper. You’re terrified out of your mind, but even then, he doesn’t slow down. Instead, he rids himself of his gauntlets, tossing them somewhere on the floor, and then his fingers dip in between your legs.

You don’t understand what you did wrong. You thought, when he came over to you and whisked you away to the bed, that it was just going to be one of the cuddling sessions again, but that clearly isn’t his intention this time around. To the best of your ability, amidst all of what’s going on, you try to rack your brain, to pinpoint anything specific that might have angered him. No matter how hard you ponder, you can’t think of a single thing, and with his hands invading your most sensitive parts, the ability for rational thought slips away from your grasp.

He feels around for a little. The rough tips of his fingers find your clit, they stroke around it a few times, and then they glide down to where your entrance is hidden. He spreads your folds with haste, and then, oh Aeons, his hand goes to his belt. You can only watch with a petrified expression as he pulls out a rod that’s just about the same size as your entire forearm.

His cock is massive. Massive. The sentence would be at least a little bit funny in any other context, but you don’t find the thought even the slightest bit humorous as you realize that he’s going to try to plunge that thing in you with basically zero preparation. You’re nowhere near wet enough, not aroused, you can’t even comprehend the idea of his cock fitting into your cunt.

Your breath is catching in your throat in sheer terror, all the while Mydei gives your bits a few more rubs. He wraps his fingers around his girth and positions the tip against your hole. You weep out frantic apologies, pleading for him to stop, to at least give you a bit of time to prepare, you promise that he can have you, just please, if he could just pause for a second-!

You feel him pushing into you. It’s at this moment that reality catches up to you, and you start thrashing violently, doing your absolute best to shove your knees into his chest, sink your nails into the back of his hand, and close your thighs. Shrieks erupt from your throat, sounds that you didn’t even know a human being was capable of producing. Your words blur together, and what is left of your pleading is a string of unintelligible, horrified wails. It stings, it burns, it hurts down there.

Mydei’s breaths are ragged. He’s holding his cock in one hand, trying to nudge it further inside you past the few centimetres he has successfully managed to get in, but no matter how hard he tries, the walls of your cunt are refusing to budge. That, and when he looks up at you, he comes to find that your face is distorted in genuine pain. Beads of sweat cover your forehead, your eyes are those of a wild animal’s, he can’t make sense of the words that rush out of your mouth. You look like you’re about to faint.

He pulls his cock out. You’re far too out of it to even notice: Your legs are still twitching, gaze darting aimlessly around the room, and tears are spilling past your waterline. Your bare chest heaves up and down in irregular patterns, and your hands are clammy from the cold sweat. Tiny pearls of blood have risen on his skin where your claws have torn into it. He didn’t even feel it. The image he had of you lying below him, face flushed, fingers laced with his, shatters right then and there.

He doesn’t bother pulling your clothes back on. Instead, he reaches for the discarded blanket on the side of the bed and pulls it over your quivering body. Slowly, he releases your burning wrists from his hold. You’re so delirious that you don’t even realize he has done so: Your hands remain splayed over your head as if you were still being held down.

Time sort of slows down for him. He realizes that his dick is still out. You don’t look like you’re aware of what’s happening around you anymore. For a hot second, he thinks that he might have broken you, that this is how much your poor mind could take before succumbing.

In a flash, he goes from unfiltered, unrestrained carnal impulse to silently, tenderly lying down next to you and pulling you against his broad chest. His skin still feels searing hot against your face, and only by this point do you realize that his intentions have changed. You’re having trouble making any sense of what’s going on, your throat still feels like it’s closing in on itself, your entire body is trembling like a leaf. The hysteria doesn’t entirely wear off until several hours later, and by then, he has already been asleep for a few.

It’s fair to say that your first time with him splits into two parts, so to speak. Technically, the train-won’t-fit-in-tunnel is your first dip into the water, but the real deal will come soon enough.

He comes to ponder that perhaps it’s better if he gradually warms your body up to the idea. As in, his plan is that he’s going to start fingering you consistently to stretch you out. You don’t have to take his dick and he gets to satisfy at least a part of his urges, what a deal.

He starts slow, settling you on the sheets on your back with your hands in his. Then, unlike the last time, he doesn’t tear your clothes off like a brute, and instead just either slides his fingers down your bottom or moves your underwear aside. You’re just as shaky as the previous attempt, clearly expecting for him to rip you apart for real this time, and he takes note of that.

You do end up simmering down a little after a while, though, due to how feather-soft he’s being with his caresses along your folds. He’s making an effort to actually get you going (it’s up to you whether that works or not). If anybody were to ask him, he would never confess to ever being this delicate with you since that would be admitting how much power you hold over him. Still, it’s visible how he’s marvelling at the tiny blush spreading on your features.

So, from this point forward, these instances become regular — almost daily, you could say. His cock won’t make an appearance until he has worked his way up to fitting three fingers inside your cunt at once. (Using the red crystal things as toys to reach even deeper into you? He just might).

It might very well be that you’re not particularly thrilled about his antics even now, but he does manage to make you a little more pliant with promises of more freedom. An entire day in the bathhouse (only the private sections, though obviously), how does that sound? How about he takes you on a visit to the Garden of Life? You like chimeras, don’t you? Whatever your answer is, he’ll go through with it after he has made you cream around his fingers. And no complaining no matter how long it takes for him to do so; You come to see quite early, he’s very adept at listening to your body.

Eventually, it all will build up to him getting his cock inside of you. It will start like any of the previous times (minus the first incident), but then after you come on his hand, he’s going to take his junk out. You thrash all the same as usually when you’re frightened, no surprises there. He has to use his weight to pin you down again, but he knows that it will be much smoother this time around, so tone it down, will you? And, oh, the way your face contorts when he finally pushes all the way in, the way he can see the shape of him in your lower abdomen, he could nearly bust right then and there.

It’s likely still feels a bit unpleasant to you, he imagines. He has never been skilled in the art of comforting through words, but it’s nothing that his thumb pressing circles against your clit can’t fix.

˗ˏˋ ★ 12. Preferences: What is sex with them like? What sort of stuff are they into? What kind of kinks do they have?

It’s rough, it’s heated, it’s aggressive at least 95% of the time. That’s about it, really. Or, very rarely, especially if you’ve been looking particularly frail to him that day, he might get a bit more gentle. In normal circumstances, however, it’s best to be prepared to be sore the next morning.

Period sex

The son of Gorgo will be crowned in (period) blood.

Mydei is a warrior through and through. The fascination with grotesque things comes with that, you think. Of course he knows that you have periods, you’re a woman, he’s not stupid or uneducated, but when the time of the month comes rolling around, he realizes that huh, maybe there might be another aspect to it.

It’s not ideal if you’re in pain, more irritable, nauseous, all that stuff, but he can’t help but be drawn to you for no other reason than the fact that he knows there’s blood dripping down there. It awakens some dark instinct inside of him. Blood, to him, is a reminder of battle, of war, and that translates quite well to his behaviour. He goes feral, pretty much, it’s like his heat or something. It makes you reconsider the meaning of the word ”bloodlust”.

He sits you in his lap and props his legs over your thighs, preventing you from closing them. You’re complaining that ”no, what the hell, I won’t be having sex with you while I’m on my period”, but that does little to waver his will. He might huff a word or two in your ear, telling you to stay still, whatever. He knows you might be having cramps and all that. Won’t an orgasm or two make the muscles down there relax, too? You’re just resisting for the sake of it again. Shut it already, will you?

He sinks his fingers inside you. He doesn’t even need to worry about the friction this time because the blood is making your insides slick. It’s easy to prod them around, slide them in and out, spread the red around your bits. Your face is just about the same colour as your downstairs at this point, and he has to wrap an arm around your upper body to prevent you from trying to claw at his hand. You’re doing your best to struggle again, but when he doubles his efforts at thrusting his fingers right into your sweet spot, you need to reconsider your priorities.

Mydei gets immense pleasure from watching you come undone in a matter of minutes. Your cunt constricts wildly around him, and he lets you ride down the high as blood gushes out of your hole. However, when his fingers finally pull out, he brings them to his face and simply observes, marveling at the way your essence coats them all the way down to his palm. You feel his dick twitch against your lower back.

He will absolutely fuck you in this state, too. The blood works as lube, and he doesn’t mind getting dirty — he enjoys it vastly, actually. It’s a bit more painful these times since your regions are aching more than usual, but he knows how to make it good for you. He makes sure to stroke your breasts, your nipples, trail his hands (or hand, one has to keep you from escaping) down your sides, and press where you’re the most sensitive. It does, to your dismay, dull the cramps to some extent.

Eating you out is on the table, too. He would very much enjoy it, even initiates it a few times, but for some reason, you’re exceptionally reluctant towards the idea. He will refrain from doing it for now if it’s that big of a deal to you, but it won’t hold him back forever, just so you know.

Predator/prey

You know what really gets him going? Physical exercise, running, fighting, the thrill of battle and chase. All of those have his blood rushing in the most exhilarating of ways, which he quite enjoys, putting it very lightly. Naturally, his desire for that kind of excitement heavily intertwines with his sexual cravings.

So, it’s not even that far into your imprisonment when he takes you outside one time. You think it’s gonna be one of his ”trials”, that he’s going to make you do some parkour again or something since he leads you to the middle point of the castle, the Kremnos Arena. But then, he tells you that you have exactly ten minutes to run and find yourself a hiding place. You’re, of course, incredibly confused at the declaration, but it all comes clear to you when your gaze wanders a little further down from his eyes. Yep, there it is — the tent.

You did wonder why the noise from outside was so excessive this evening. There don’t seem to be too many monsters roaming around tonight, and you quickly put two and two together that he must have been planning this all day. You’re about to let him know your opinion on the matter, but as soon as your eyes return to his, you come to find just how excited he is about this. He’s staring you down just like a predator would a prey.

And so, you take off running. As fast as your legs allow you to, you sprint in the only direction viable: the bridge that leads away from the arena and deep into the city ruins. You’re not exactly sure where you’re going, you’re not familiar with the layout of the place since nobody in their right mind would take foot in the decayed castle.

You’re scared out of your mind, but if there’s one positive thing to be found in the situation, it’s the fact that, unlike usual, there’s not a single titankin in sight. He has got rid of them all, all for this. Following that train of thought, your skin crawls at the idea that soon enough, there will be something much scarier than Nikador’s shadows hunting you down.

Ten minutes is either a very short or a very long time, depending on the circumstances. You come to find that, in this moment, it’s both. The time given to you was barely enough to find yourself a suitable crack to hide in. It’s in between some rubble, just small enough for you to fit into, but at the same time, you grow agitated at how slow each second passes. You can hear your own, rapid heartbeat in your ears, your hands are trembling from the adrenaline, and no matter how deeply you breathe, you feel like you’re not getting enough oxygen in your burning lungs.

And then you start hearing the noise.

He’s throwing stuff around. Most likely boulders at least ten times as heavy as you. And with every passing moment, the sound grows closer. You wonder if it would be easier for you to stand in the middle of the floor and give yourself up to him, and maybe he would have mercy on your poor body.

But you don’t get much time to ponder that thought. The piece of wreckage that shielded you a split second ago is thrown into the opposing wall with so much force that you’re sure the whole place is going to collapse. You let out a screech, cover your ears and make yourself as small as possible as more debris starts flying around you. You’re only granted half a minute at most to prepare yourself as Mydei wrecks the pile of rubble to his heart’s content. After that, as the dust settles down, you’re pulled out from what’s left of your spot.

You can beg and plead as much as you want to, nothing is going to extinguish the sheer fervour he has gathered. He yanks you to him by your ankle, caring very little of how your head nearly lands on the marble, only releasing his hold in order to climb over your form. Wild would be the only correct word to describe how he looks: His eyes are wide, nostrils flared, and there’s a wicked grin on his chiselled face.

It’s only downhill from there. You’re not nearly wet enough, he finds, but even that does very little to slow him down. He barely remembers to rid himself of the sharp gauntlets before plunging his fingers inside of you. You’re sure, with how fast he’s going, that you will be bleeding by the end of this — and that would only make him go harder, you realize. It’s a terrible fate.

Ultimately, though, his goal is to make you come, even in all of his ardour. It’s not on his hands, no, but he makes sure to snake his arm underneath you and rub at your pearl when he hammers into you from behind. Your knees ache from grinding against the rough ground, same with your elbows, but it is, admittedly, difficult to think of anything else but the way his cock is rubbing all the spots inside of you, even those you didn’t know were there. All the while Mydei basically drools on top of you, chest against your back, hissing like an animal.

Oh, and if you want a really easy way out of the predicament — the only thing you need to do, when he tells you to run, is to plop down on the ground and look as pathetic as humanly possible. Bonus points if you start sobbing. It makes the caring side of him take over again; there’s no point in trying to make you escape if you’re already in this sorry of a state. It usually makes him reconsider at least, and at best, he might give up the game entirely. He’ll just huff in annoyance, disappointment maybe, gather you in his arms and go back inside. Easy as pie.

Size and strength kink

Mydei is a man of the size of a boulder, and he knows that. He can pick you up with one hand, throw you over his shoulder, carry you around like you were made of feathers. If he wanted to, he could hurl you right into the wall and leave nothing but a red splatter on the concrete in his wake. And he sort of… likes that idea. Not painting the rooms with you but the fact that he is strong enough to (hypothetically) do so. He likes how small and fragile you are compared to him.

This manifests in the sex, of course it does. He manhandles you, pushing you in all kinds of positions, against the wall, up in the air, under him with all your limbs pinned down so you can barely move… The possibilities are endless. No matter how you struggle, you can never outdo him in this aspect. And it turns him the fuck on. It has him grinning like a maniac when you use all of your strength to try and pry his fingers off of your wrists, but even with both of your hands, you can’t make him so much as budge.

If need be, he also knows how to intimidate you with his size. Maybe you’re being uncooperative, throwing insults at him, cursing him out, but it has you going quiet really fast when he takes a few steps closer to you, making you painfully aware of his size as he looks down at you. Going just by his expression, you can practically hear him go ”what was that?”, and you back down. It’s so pathetically easy that it almost amuses him. It won’t be long after that when he flings you to the bed and gives you a proper reason to yell.

And finally, his dick. His pussy destroyer 2000. It’s no joke. He knows it’s big — he’s moderately proud of it, too — but you don’t think he understands just how big it is. It’s always a stretch, no matter how many times he has breached the walls of your cunt. On the best days it’s uncomfortable, on the worst it’s, well, unbearable. Mydei has learned over time that prepping you is really important if his intention isn’t teaching you a lesson.

Even then, he never gets his dick inside all the way. A part of it is always left outside as your insides can only take so much. You feel him in your stomach, you’re sure. And, judging from the way he presses his hand against your lower abdomen with a hungry expression, you think he just might actually be.

Bath sex

The most predictable one of the things he fancies, perhaps. He likes soaking in the bath, and he likes you, so what’s stopping him from combining the two?

It’s more like sex by the bath most of the time, though. He tried it in the water once, trying to sink you down on his cock, but whatever lubrication he could coax out of you was washed away. Ramming inside you is nearly impossible that way, of course, so his usual go-to would be just fingering you instead. You respond better to that, anyway. Still, when he has the chance, he might lift you on the edge of the pool and give you a thorough fucking. You’ve tried to tell him to reconsider, that there may be people around, but he couldn’t give two shits about getting caught, really. Any normal person would be too scared to do anything about the Mydeimos having sex in a public area, anyway.

A new bottle appears among the ointments and lotions he usually has with him while washing, you notice. You won’t have to wonder about it for too long, though, because when he pours a generous amount of the clear substance onto his palm, his hand goes straight to your cunt under the surface. You yelp, your voice bouncing off the tiled walls, but he simply adjusts his hold on you and dips his fingers in. The next thing you know is that his dick is nudging at your entrance.

There is a softer aspect to the bathing, too, as mentioned earlier. It just kind of includes taking care of you in this manner, too. He washes your hair with care, lathers your skin in nice-smelling products, and he might even massage your back if you’re not in a hurry, but it’s almost always at the cost of an orgasm or few.

˗ˏˋ ★ 13. Punishment: What do their sexual punishments look like? What methods do they prefer?

Mydei doesn’t use sex as a means to punish, necessarily, but damn, it does feel like that sometimes. It’s not methodical in any way, it’s not calculated, there’s no coherent cause-and-effect line of thought there. It’s very in-the-moment and unpredictable, and that’s what makes it the worst.

If you push his buttons long enough, if you irk him (especially on purpose), if you try to do rash things, he will fuck you stupid. You can tell it from his face when you’re about to face a multiple hour long session of marathon sex from him. When you get the look from him, a string of apologies is already spilling from your mouth, and you’re slowly backing away from him, but there’s no getting out of it. And soon you’re in the searing hot embrace of the sheets again.

If you value your peace, it would be best to avoid these situations. They typically leave you sore and sometimes even bleeding; he doesn’t prep you properly in all of his irritation and anger, maybe strokes you down there for a bit at most before ramming his cock in. Unlike in all other circumstances, his priority isn’t to make you come. The point is to send a message, and his method is very effective in that sense.

He will bite you, he will dig his nails into your skin, he might even spank you. He will grab your jaw with so much force that you fear he’s going to break it if he uses any more strength, he will slide his tongue down your throat until you’re sure you’ll pass out, and when he does pull away, he’ll hiss and growl mean words directly into your ear. You are going to end up crying or he didn't do his job properly.

You’re really acquiescent afterwards, he comes to see. You lie nice and still in his arms, you fall asleep quickly. There are bruises forming on your wrists, your hips, your thighs. Your neck, shoulders and back are full of bite marks and hickeys, some having drawn blood, some surface-level. Dried streaks of tears adorn your flushed cheeks. It must have been quite intense for you, he wonders, but all in all, the result justifies the means.

Rarely, he might make you choke on his dick instead of fucking you. It’s the less strenuous of the two options, and he only allows it if whatever you did is on the fence of truly having ticked him off. The act is like dismantling a bomb, if you will. He sits down on the edge of the bed, the couch, his throne, even, and you get down on your knees and start sucking. He doesn’t actually fuck your face, partially because his cock doesn’t fit too far in (you start gagging) and partially because it wouldn’t really be you showing him remorse like that, you know? He makes you work for his forgiveness, stroking your hair while gazing down at you with your mouth full off his dick. You always find it to be terribly humiliating, your cheeks are warm, your eyes convey nothing but exasperation, but the only way to get yourself out of it is to get him to finish. And Mydei has been blessed with a generous amount of stamina, you come to find.

He also uses sex as a sort of an emotional release, not only for him but also for you. If you’re being mad, spouting slander and complaints at him, trying to throw hands, his solution is fucking you into the mattress. It’s relieving for him, and it seems to be that way to you as well. All of your pent-up anger and malice mysteriously disappears after coming a few times, and you end up being far too tired to do anything afterwards. You hate how effective it is, really.

˗ˏˋ ★ 14. Aftermath: What does their aftercare look like? Is there any?

It comes with his gentle side; he’s very particular about taking care of you afterwards. He knows that he tends to take you to your limits, even past them, so giving you adequate aftercare doesn’t only show you his love but makes sure that you’ll be ready for more in the few hours that it takes for him to charge back up.

His usual pattern is coming down from the high, just being still for a minute or two, letting his heart rate settle, and then he starts taking care of you. He’ll cradle you against his sweaty body for a moment (if you allow it, otherwise he goes straight to holding you until you inevitably fall asleep), feeling the way you pant against his chest in your afterglow. After that, he’ll sit up and check you for any actual injuries he might have caused you. Depending on what your mental state is at this point, he will either try to comfort you with his usual methods or go fetch a wet rag.

Mydei will lowkey be genuinely offended if you refuse his aftercare or show distaste towards him during it, which you often do, at least in the earlier days of your captivity. What more do you want, he made you come a good few times, he wasn’t even that rough this time around, and now he’s trying to cuddle you. What is there not to like?

He will take you in his arms, though, nonetheless. Roll you up into a blanket burrito (you’re going to boil alive) and squeeze you against his chest, his chin on the crown of your head.

˗ˏˋ ★ 15. Further notes: Is there anything that sets them apart from the other yanderes sex-wise? Are there any unique aspects to them?

Mydei will actually, genuinely lose his shit if he ever catches you jacking off. What do you mean, what the hell are you doing, you have a whole-ass him right there, and you thought that ”hmm, I think I’ll use my own hand instead”. That’s what it looks like to him, anyway. It’s somewhat of a blow to his ego, too. Are you trying to tell him that he doesn’t satisfy you? Is that what this is about?

Good luck if he ever catches you with your fingers between your legs. You know just by looking at his face that he’s not particularly pleased with the situation he has found you in.

You’re in the middle of opening your mouth, but he’s on top of you quicker than you can get a single word out. His brows are knitted together, he clicks his tongue in something akin to distaste, you’re not really sure. Then, without a warning, he grabs the backs of your thighs and folds you clean in half. A strained sound slips out of your throat as your knees hit your shoulders, but there’s not much you can do when he inhales a big gulp of air before diving right into your cunt.

You can tug on his hair all you want, you can tear out entire strands for all he cares, but his mouth is not going to come off your pussy until you’re a trembling, flushed mess. And only he will decide when that point is. Be prepared for a whole lot of overstimulation.

On a different note, a strange thing about his whims is that he only seems to kiss you in his most tender and most brutal moments, no in between. In the former, he’s being very gentle, very careful, very mindful of how it feels to you. In the latter, you’ll barely be able to get a breath in. It’s teeth clacking together, it’s biting your lower lip, it’s shoving his tongue so deep down your throat that it feels like he’s trying to swallow you alive.

That, and one more thing. He would really like to stick it in your ass. But he can’t.

The only thing that keeps him from doing it is the fundamental issue that comes with his size. Don’t get him wrong, he isn’t opposed to causing you some pain, he even enjoys it to some degree, but trying to shove it in your butt would cause actual damage. And he would rather avoid the situation of having to bring you to Hyacine and tell her what has occurred. He has entertained the idea, thought about stretching you out like he did with your cunt, building up to the size of his cock, and then, maybe, it could work. He hasn’t yet tried.

He sometimes sticks a finger up there during sex. It makes you whine quite loudly, and you’re obviously not a very big fan of when he does it. However, he can tell that you come a little bit faster that way. It makes him think.

[sevikaswifegurl]

THE FUCKING PHOTOS IN THE WALLET

Daniel Ricciardo X Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Daniel Ricciardo has a habit of losing his wallet in unusual places, and when the new employee finds it in the paddock, he can't imagine what he's going to discover inside.

Warning: Explicit sexual content, vulgar and sarcastic language, scenes of privacy and invasion of boundaries, as well as intense sexual tension.

Word count: 3300

Note: English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance if there are any errors and promise that I will improve the templates

Daniel Ricciardo had many questionable habits, but perhaps the most infamous among them was his chronic inability to keep his wallet in his pocket.

It was an inside joke in the paddock, and whenever someone found that lost wallet lying around, the reaction was almost automatic: “Hey, anyone seen Daniel’s wallet?” It had become an unofficial catchphrase among Red Bull crew members, McLaren mechanics, and even a few FIA stewards. That damned thing had been found wedged behind a seat, on top of a toolbox, and — in one particularly memorable instance — inside the team motorhome's fridge.

And without fail, whoever found it knew exactly what not to open, but always did anyway: the photo compartment. More specifically, the photos.

One of them, you only let him take after much teasing, on a hot night in Monaco. The city’s sticky heat filtered through the cracks in the bedroom curtains, while the sheets, in a careless moment, slipped down to your ankles, leaving your body completely exposed. The image captured more than just your skin — it captured surrender. That raw, unguarded surrender, and he had known exactly when to press the shutter. He printed it, and the photo ended up in his wallet. He never carried it without it again.

The problem was: Daniel kept losing the fucking wallet.

Oliver was almost done with his shift in the garage. The tools were already packed, and the place had quieted down. He was finishing the last tasks of the day when he spotted something on the floor and immediately recognized it. That wallet was practically an extension of Daniel himself.

“Again, Ricciardo…” he muttered, already bracing himself for the chaos to come. He picked it up and, with a resigned sigh, looked around. No one else was there. He knew very well where this could go.

He wasn’t naturally a curious person, but the things he'd heard about Daniel’s photos — always spoken in gossiping, joking tones — still intrigued him. He’d heard the rumors, of course. The Red Bull driver's Polaroids were legendary.

With a scoff of disdain, Oliver gave in to temptation and opened the secret compartment. He knew he shouldn’t, but he did it anyway.

The first image that came up made his heart clench. It was… beautiful. Almost like an artistic photograph. You lying on the bed, your naked body, the sheet strategically placed, just covering what it needed to — but your gaze... That gaze seemed to strip you down even more than your bare body already had. You were smiling, but not just any smile. It was enigmatic, like you knew exactly the effect it would have. He couldn’t help but notice how comfortable you looked, how confident. A work of art more than just an intimate capture.

Oliver swallowed hard, trying to compose himself. The photograph stirred something in him, and the way it was kept, the way the light seemed to caress the image, only made everything feel more intense. But that was nothing compared to what came next.

He hesitated, but what he found next pulled him in like a magnet. When he grabbed it, the reaction was immediate. The photo in his hands was completely different. It was more explicit. Bolder. A scene of complete abandon, and what struck him most was the intensity of the moment.

He saw the intertwined bodies of Daniel and you. The image showed you with your eyes closed, your body arched in pleasure. And Daniel was over you. Fully exposed, both of you naked, in a moment of raw, unfiltered surrender. The kind of scene rarely witnessed. There was no glamour in it. No attempt to be anything more than it was: a moment of total intimacy.

And your expression in that photo wasn’t just provocative. It was fierce, defiant, as if you knew that anyone who saw that picture would be completely captivated, unable to look away. The way you looked, the way you were positioned — it was the certainty of someone who knew that photo would carry consequences impossible to ignore. It was almost like, in that brief second, you knew the camera was there, that the photo was being taken — but you didn’t care. It was a moment just for the two of you, a moment to get lost in.

Oliver stood frozen. He didn’t know whether he should look away, walk off, hide the photo and hand the wallet back to Daniel like nothing had happened. But he couldn’t stop staring. He knew he shouldn’t be seeing that, knew he was invading something private. But he just couldn’t look away.

That’s when he heard a familiar voice — Daniel, of course.

“That’s mine.”

The phrase was calm, easy. Like nothing serious was happening, like this was just another ordinary situation.

Oliver froze, blood running cold in his veins. He turned, wallet still in hand, unsure what to do, unsure what to say.

Daniel was at the doorway, wearing that wide, easy smile, as if he were seeing something completely mundane. He didn’t look the slightest bit embarrassed. Not at all surprised. He was just there, watching, like he already knew what was going on.

“You found my photos,” Daniel said, stepping closer with a slow, almost lazy stride. “Ah, someone finally found the fucking wallet.”

“I… found it on the floor… I didn’t know…” Oliver tried to explain, but his words came out shaky, unsure, like he didn’t know whether to look at Daniel or the photos still in his hand.

“But you opened it.” The sentence hit like a weight. Daniel wasn’t angry, but the way he said it made everything feel heavier, more loaded with meaning.

He extended his hand, eyes fixed on the photos Oliver was still holding. It was more a command than a request.

“Give it to me.”

Oliver swallowed hard and, almost involuntarily, handed the wallet back, the weight of shame still tightening in his throat. He didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what to think. Everything was happening too fast, and he didn’t know how to react.

Daniel didn’t rush. He looked at the first photo with a crooked smile, his gaze a little more wistful. “Beautiful, right? Took that one after a whole afternoon where we couldn’t leave the bed.” He turned the second photo more carefully, still with that same smile on his face. “This one… she didn’t even know I was going to take it. It was in the middle of the fun. I like keeping the kind of moments that make me come just remembering them.”

Oliver couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move. He just stood there in silence, breath slow and heavy, while Daniel seemed entirely unfazed by what had just happened.

Daniel looked at him, his expression softening, and let out a short, relaxed laugh, like nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. “Relax, man. It’s all good. They’re just pictures. Help me get through lonely nights, you know how it is.”

With an easy motion, he slipped the wallet back into his pocket and turned to leave.

But before walking out, he paused at the doorway and, without looking back, said over his shoulder — his tone almost a warning:

“But don’t worry, man…”

A pause, heavy with irony.

“You haven’t seen the really wild ones.”

And then he was gone.

Oliver just stood there, in the middle of the garage, unsure if he should laugh or cry. The tension still hung in the air, and he couldn’t quite process what had just happened. But one thing was certain: he would never look at Daniel Ricciardo the same way again.

[twstedfreak]

Not Even the Gods Can Keep Me from You — g. satoru

Ꮺ ⋮ pairing — odysseus!gojo satoru x fem!reader [greek au]

Ꮺ ⋮ synopsis — ❝ you were never supposed to fall for the prince of ithaca—especially not when war was on the horizon and the gods had already written tragedy in the stars. but you did. and any now, years have passed, the sea has swallowed his name, and you're left raising his son in a kingdom that’s slowly forgetting him. across cursed islands and shattered battlegrounds, gojo satoru is fighting his way back to you—but after all this time, will love be enough to bring him home? ❞

Ꮺ ⋮ c&w — 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—kinda ooc, kinda slowburn too, war, violence, death, grief, emotional manipulation, long chapters(?), separation, implied infidelity in the context of war and distance, strong language, betrayal, intense emotional conflict, Satoru’s inner turmoil and struggles with guilt, longing, and regret. tags might be added along the making of this Ꮺ ⋮ notes — it’s finally here… slowly but surely, i’m going to start uploading this series I’ve been working on for what feels like forever. seriously, the on-and-off relationship i’ve had with this story and the thought process behind it? Yeah, it’s been a ride. you wouldn’t believe half the stuff that went into it (just kidding, maybe you would). anyway, i’ll be posting the first chapter soon! just tweaking a few things here and there. upload times might be a bit inconsistent, as well as expect (ig)slow updates, idk it really does depend on my mood, so please bear with me while I get everything in order. thanks for sticking with me, y'all!! if you want to be added to the taglist, make sure to comment before i close it! i’m currently sorting out my tumblr theme (you know, the usual chaos of customization), but i’ll be back to posting soon. thanks so much for your patience and support, can’t wait to get this rolling! teaser post here! Ꮺ ⋮ status — new & ongoing

masterlist | drabble | headcanon ˚ 　 ⤹ 　 ❝ ©twstedfreak

TABLE OF CONTENT . . . . !!

PROLOGUE — BEFORE THE STORM The moment the thread was spun

01 | The Prince & the Spartan  ⤷ A diplomatic visit. A shared glance. Their world begins to shift. 02 | The Lasting Days  ⤷ He falls fast. She builds walls. But the heart doesn't always obey. 03 | The Archer in the Crowd  ⤷ A masked suitor. A silent promise. A choice she never saw coming. 04 | Athena’s Watchful Eyes  ⤷ Athena watches a child become a man—driven by love, tested by fate. 05 | The Ninth Dawn  ⤷ Nine days. One child. One goodbye. Neither ready to let go.

MORE TO BE ADDED..... !!

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[gloomwitchwrites]

Hello! I read your Ghost NSFW alphabet and it was amazing!! (Actually I've just been reading a bunch of your posts for the past 3 days your writing it amazing!!) I was wondering if you can do an NSFW alphabet for Cpt.Price please!

Thank you so much, anon! I really appreciate that. Of course you can have a NSFW Alphabet for Price! Enjoy!

written w/ gn!reader

Word Count: 900

nsfw alphabet template

CoD Headcanons / AUs / Quick Writes Masterlist

A = Aftercare

A staunch cuddler. Price enjoys snuggling after sex, acting as a weighted blanket. He’s all about lazy touches and slow kisses, sprinkling you with soft words of affection as the two of you come down.

B = Body part

An ass man. No question. Price either has his hands on it or touching in some capacity. Positions that allow him to palm your ass as he fucks you are his favorite.

C = Cum

Enjoys seeing the aftermath. Watching his cum leak out of all your holes flames his ego. Spread those legs and/or cheeks. Open your mouth and show him your tongue. He wants to paint you with it.

D = Dirty secret

During his first experience with bondage, Price confidently said he could use rope, but totally lied, and stumbled through it to the point that he gave up and had vanilla sex. (He’s much better at it now.)

E = Experience

Very experienced, and he knows what he wants. Price isn’t afraid to tell you how he likes to be pleasured, and he’s not shy about asking you what you like, or exploring new things with you.

F = Favorite position

Any position that allows him to view your ass as he fucks you. He’ll even take a position that allows him to grip your ass if he can’t view it.

G = Goofy

During sex? No. Price might tease you a bit, but it’s always flirty. He wants you to smile, to enjoy yourself, but when it comes down to it, he’s all business.

H = Hair

Well-groomed but hairy. He has a lovely dusting of dark brown hair across his chest and down his stomach, thickening slightly around his navel where it transforms into a healthy happy trail and a decent bush around the base of his cock.

I = Intimacy

Incredible at intimacy, especially in the moment and during foreplay. The lead up to clothes coming off is hit or miss, but in the act, Price has his full attention on you. Lots of praise and appreciation for your body.

J = Jack off

Not a chronic masturbator, but certainly jerks himself off if you’re not available to take his dick.

K = Kink

Praise, primal, daddy, some forms of impact play, situational public sex

L = Location

A traditional man that likes to be at home while doing the act, but he won’t let an opportunity slip past him. He’s down to fuck at work if it’s a quickie, or take you in the back of his car.

M = Motivation

Physical affection gets him going. Wrap your arms around him, tease the back of his neck with your fingers, trace circles on his back. Intimate touch sends all the blood in his body down to his dick.

N = No

Piss play. Not into it.

O = Oral

Certified muncher/sucker. Price is a giver rather than a receiver though he won’t tell you no if you want to go down on him.

P = Pace

Price is the fast and rough type when he’s the one in charge. He might say sweet things to you, but you can bet he’s fucking your brains out at the exact same time.

Q = Quickie

Always down for a quickie. Hardly matters the time and place. Don’t need to say anything either. Present a hole for him and Price is diving right in.

R = Risk

Totally down to experiment as long as both parties are agreeable to the risk. Price is willing to try anything once but he won’t try something if you’re not into it.

S = Stamina

Decent stamina. He can go a few rounds but give the man some room to breathe between sessions.

T = Toys

Price does not own any toys. If he acquires any, it’s because you bought them, or you were insistent on trying some out. He won’t go out of his way to purchase them.

U = Unfair

Can be a bit of a tease, especially if he feels like edging you, but all of his teasing is really to get you going and turned on.

V = Volume

Price isn’t loud, but the man is a grunter/moaner. When he’s about to come, his eyes are closed and that man is moaning/groaning, completely lost in it.

W = Wild card

Dom!Price enjoys purchasing customized collars for his sub for all occasions. Real leather. Real metal. Engraved. Maybe some gems or diamonds.

X = Xtra

At first, Price didn’t understand the appeal to wearing a mask during sex, but after a few experiences with it, he grew to enjoy it, especially with how much you liked it. But he won’t ever admit that to Ghost or anyone on his team that he tried it out.

Y = Yearning

Price yearns for you all the time. No matter the time of day or night or the day of the week, Price is always thinking about you, and will accept any advances you send his way.

Z = Zzz

As a staunch post-sex cuddler, Price will absolutely crash out after sex quickly. Expect snoring, his arms around you, and don’t think about attempting to wiggle away from him. Any movement will only result in him pulling you close again. Won’t even wake up either.

CoD Headcanons / AUs / Quick Writes Masterlist

[swanimagines]

Teen Wolf: Imagine being Derek’s sister and him finding out that you’re secretly dating Stiles.

requested by anon

Note: nowadays all requests are done straight to asks, this is my old template of posting and I no longer have their asks!

Note 2: A reminder again that in all my newer fics where reader is someone's sibling/child or some other relative, they're always adopted, not related by blood!

When you first met Scott and Stiles, you wouldn’t have believed that one day, you’d end up falling in love with the latter. Your first meeting hadn’t been… good, if you were honest. You saw them as a threat, as did your brother, so your first words to Stiles had been “stay out of this, human”.

Seeing where that meeting brought you now had been completely unexpected. Stiles had somehow gotten enchanted by you, and you soon realised he had a crush on you — despite you having been so harsh at him when he had tried to defend Scott.

And more surprises were coming. Him fumbling and being awkward, at the loss of words before you, you found it cute. Cute. A human, you found a human cute.

You tried to hide it, how you were warming up for him. How he got you to smile, how you started to enjoy his company. It wasn’t logical, it was foolish. And especially when Derek hated Stiles, you having feelings for the boy just didn’t fit the picture.

But, your feelings just wouldn’t go away, no matter how much you tried to suppress them, and eventually you just had to blurt them out to him. He just stood there stunned, looking at you for a moment before he started grinning like he had just won in a lottery. And you knew that he kind of had, he had had the biggest crush on you for a long time and now you told him you felt the same way.

But you still needed to keep it hidden from your brother, in fact Scott and the Sheriff were the only ones who knew. You snuck out almost every day after school to hang out with Stiles and there you were at a park, in the shadow of an old oak, heads pressed together and holding hands.

This was one of those days. You two were sitting in the park, beside a pond full of ducks. Stiles had brought a bag of seeds with him, and you fed the ducks together. You were quieter than usual, and Stiles nudged you.

“What are you thinking about?” he mumbled, handing you a few seeds.

“I think Derek is suspecting something,” you replied, glancing over your shoulder. “I can’t help but think that he’s been watching us, he acts so weird. I don’t know what he will do if he finds out about us.”

You threw the seeds to the ducks, making them swarm at your feet. Stiles sighed, looking up for a moment. You knew he wanted to mutter “creep” but you appreciated he didn’t. You took his hand. “I’m not leaving you, in case you’re afraid of that. Even if Derek will try to lock me up.”

Stiles nodded, squeezing your hand back. “I know.”

You sat there for a moment longer, until the seeds ran out and Stiles shook the bag towards the quacking ducks, before throwing it into the trashcan and leaving the park with you. You walked in silence for a moment, before Stiles turned to you. “Wanna come watch a movie? Your brother can’t follow us there, Dad has too many security cameras for that.”

You scoffed. “As if that’d keep him away. But you’re right about it being safer there. He might not want to come in and risk your dad seeing him threatening you.”

He took the jeep keys from his pocket and fumbled with them for a moment. “So… you’re coming?”

You nodded, taking his arm. “Yeah, I’d like to have a good laugh with a comedy before going home.”

—

As the credits rolled, you realised how late it had gotten. The clock had struck midnight a while ago, and you could almost picture Derek tapping his foot impatiently like the Rabbit from Winnie the Pooh. So you reluctantly retreated from Stiles’s warm embrace, stretching out before looking at him. “I should go.”

He sighed, absentmindedly running his thumb across your hand. “Yeah, you probably should.”

You stood up from the couch, swinging your bag over your shoulder, letting Stiles walk you to the door. Once you reached the porch, he leaned against the door frame and you looked at him, biting your lip. “Thanks for tonight,” you mumbled. “I had fun.”

Stiles nodded. “Me too.”

You thought for a moment, but then decided to take the leap — you stepped closer to him. “I think a proper good night wish could be better than just saying it.”

Stiles’s cheeks turned slightly red, and he stuttered slightly. “O-oh?”

“Yeah.”

And then, with one last breath, you gently grasped the collar of his hoodie and pressed your lips to his.

It wasn’t a deep, passionate kiss you see in movies, it was rather short, in between a peck and a proper kiss. But still, when you stepped back, Stiles grinned like he had won the lottery all over again, and you couldn’t help but giggle a little. “Goodnight, Stiles.”

He blinked, straightening up. “Goodnight.”

Then you turned, walking into the night with the biggest grin on your face. The night was chilly, but you felt like your heart was jumping around so much that it almost overheated you. Not that you minded, you were happier than in a long time, and almost felt like skipping through the forest.

Crack.

You stopped dead in your tracks, looking around. “Derek?”

Sure enough, he stepped out from the darkness, and you froze. “I… I was just on my way home.”

He scoffed, crossing his arms. “Don’t lie. I saw what happened.”

You cocked your head, trying to act clueless. “Saw what happen?”

He raised his eyebrows. “The kiss. I saw you kissed him. Didn’t you just tell me there’s nothing going on with him?”

You tried to play stupid and test the waters, laughing. “Nice try. You haven’t been near me today, I haven’t smelled you.”

He shook his head, sighing. “Which is exactly why I’m concerned. You’re losing your focus. What if the Hunters will get you because you’re too busy staring at Stiles’s eyes?”

You kept walking, pushing past him. “You’re overreacting. It was just a kiss.”

He turned around, starting to walk with you. “Just a kiss, and numerous secret dates after school for weeks, or is it months now?”

You groaned, figuring it’s no use to keep pretending. “Alright! We have… something going on with him. But it’s still early, and I’m not abandoning the pack because of him if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“He can’t protect you. The Hunters will use him against you,” Derek said quietly. “You could die because of him.”

“His pack—”

He interrupted you, “He doesn’t have a pack, he’s not one of us. Even if he pretends to belong in Scott’s pack, he isn’t, and will never be, one of them.”

You sighed. You knew he was mostly right. Stiles, being a human, could easily be used against you. He hadn’t learned about everything yet, nor Scott had in that matter. You had tried to guide them, to help, but so far it was going slowly. And you knew that each day, the risks grew. You understood your brother, you had gone through the exact same feelings, wondering and pondering and pacing around your room, before finally concluding you weren’t able to keep it inside you. You had brought up all your worries to Stiles once you decided to tell him about your feelings, and he assured you that Scott would help if any problems came up. You still had doubts, but chose to push them aside for the sake of living. You had done what you could, telling him and Scott about the risks and Stiles still wanted to see what would become of you two.

You stopped, looking up for a moment. “I know it’s dangerous, Derek. But what do you expect me to do? Ignore my feelings, end my relationship? It wouldn’t be fair for me, even less for him. He signed up for this, because he wants to be with me.”

Derek stopped as well, stepping in front of you. He ran his hand through his hair. “I’m not asking you to ignore how you feel, but you need to be smart about this. Think about how many times we watched our friends get hurt because they got too close?”

“We’re not children, we can look after ourselves just fine,” you groaned.

He raised his eyebrows. “Can you? Because to me, it looks like one of you will be dead soon, and—.”

You shook your head, raising your hands up. “Stop.”

You stood there in silence for a long while, before Derek crossed his arms again. “You’re not letting this go, are you?”

You huffed. “No. I can only promise to come to you for help if I need any.”

He thought for a moment, and pursed his lips. “Alright. But don’t expect me to like it, or him.”

You smiled a little. “Yeah, I know. Thanks, Derek.”

He didn’t say anything, just turned, and you followed him home. Maybe things between Stiles and Derek would be alright in the end after all.

Requests are open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[mint-in-the-moonlight]

putting the poly back in polytheism

something that I've noticed in neo-pagan/polytheist spaces is this focus on one or a few deities. while this is a valid approach and seems to be working amazingly for many people, i wanted to write a short defence of a different form of polytheism that, while maybe less visible on social media, is equally viable.

the poly in polytheism necessitates the belief in multiple gods however modern forms of worship take many different forms on top of that. from my years being in pagan spaces on social media I have noticed that to many, being a polytheist means worshipping one or a handful of gods and having very close relationships with them. which deities someone chooses to have this kind of relationship with stems from multiple possible sources, for example, personal interest, the deity's domain being somehow related to a person's life or an inexplicable draw to them.

to me, this seems to be the dominant view on social media of the form that neo-paganism takes, however, after years of exploring my spirituality and practice, I have come to the conclusion that this is not how I want to worship. I am writing this post for more people like me, who are interested in exploring this often less mainstream approach.

an ancient template

reading about Ancient Greek and Roman civilisations I was always struck by the number of minor deities with hyper-specific domains and associations. as a modern pagan, I could not understand the appeal of worshipping such a deity, ie. using so much time and resources to build a relationship for only a handful of niche issues that you could approach them with.

but as I kept reading and exploring, I realised that I was approaching polytheism completely differently than the ancients did. they truly did live in a world full of gods and they did not require a relationship built over days, if not weeks or more, to approach a deity and ask for their aid.

as long as you followed the rules of reciprocity, you could approach any deity that was relevant to your situation because they were the best equipped to help you with your problem. now this is not true for all of the population all the time, there were definitely also for example, people devoted to one deity, but from my understanding, this seemed to be the general form that polytheism took in those ancient civilisations.

the influence of monotheism

I think another feature of online neo-paganism is this expansion of the major deities' domains which then removes the need to worship the smaller deities. now, don't get me wrong, I'm all for expanding the domains of deities, especially if this is done from a revivalist perspective in order to modernise them for the contemporary worshipper. but sometimes I feel like completely unrelated domains are added for the sake of convenience more than anything else, ie. so that someone can keep worshipping the same deity(ies) without approaching others.

this, in my opinion, goes against one of the core aspects of polytheism which is the idea that different gods rule over different domains and have power over them. following this idea, it would make very little sense to pray to Neptune during air travel as he has no influence over the skies. yet, I sometimes see the deities be treated more like monotheistic gods which are all-powerful and can influence anything in the world.

if this is your view of how the gods work, that's fine, but I feel like sometimes people accept it without questioning it much or thinking about their view of theology at all. after mulling this idea over for some time, I realised it made much more sense to approach those specific deities, even if they are much less known or minor because this fits into my beliefs about polytheism much better.

a poly-practice

so, how would a poly-polytheistic practice look like in the modern day? well, there are many ways to go about it but I will just share bits from my own experience.

what I have ended up doing is focusing on different deities as they become relevant in my life - I focused on worshipping Janus at the beginning of the year while also taking the time to pray to Fortuna in moment when I needed her aid. I then did some extra reading on Jupiter, but didn't forget to thank Mars every time I went to the gym. I no longer felt the pressure to have some sort of special "connection" to every deity or "feel their presence", just trusting that they are there and then catching glimpses of divinity in my daily life.

looking into which Roman festivals I wanted to celebrate also opened my perspectives to more deities I would not have otherwise worshipped on my own. like this, I feel like I am building an arsenal of deities I can turn to when I need and of course, it is also vital to remember that I can call on multiple ones at the same time, just like the Romans saw the gods aiding one another in their tasks.

I only have one altar, which is practical and thus quite minimalistic, but there is space for my prayer notebook as well as other supplies that I need for my rituals.

conclusion

of course, this kind of practice results in a much more "impersonal" relationship with the gods, but I never really felt the need to communicate with them directly or things like that, so it fits me well. I find comfort in imagining a world full of gods, who may only know me in passing but who look out for me nevertheless.

in the end, the goal of this post is not to change anyone's mind about how they worship, but to present an alternate perspective which you can learn from but also completely disregard. in the end I am just happy that you were interested enough to reach until the end of this post. thank you for reading!!

[thehatboxwitch]

phainon yandere profile. gender neutral, TW // yandere, nsfw at the end. credits @cinnamonest for the profile template. :)

What is he generally like? Is he self-aware, lucid, or obsessive? How does he behave?

Phainon is, in all variations of him, just a big dog with a tortured heart. He's desperate for your attention and approval, for someone to never leave him and carry the burden of the prophecy with him. Despite being surrounded by his fellow flame-chasers and admirers, he feels painfully lonely, knowing that at the end of the day, the only person who can truly walk his path is himself.

He's a little intense when it comes to the people around him, so you likely wouldn't think of him as obsessive at first - it's just how he is, so you believe. Phainon really leans into the 'pity me' card (complete with the puppy dog look), and neither you or nor anyone else can say anything about it. He creeps into your life, entwining himself with you until by the time you look down, it's too late.

He's obsessive and self-aware. He knows what he's doing is wrong, like threatening people or restricting your freedom, but Phainon will jump through any and all mental hoops to convince himself (and you) that it's all for your own good, hence obsessive. Idk the cognitive dissonance is strong with this one.

How do you meet him?

You’d have to be something special - preferably someone beyond the stars, someone who isn’t familiar with Okhema’s customs at all. Phainon would have trouble with separating you from the people he’s supposed to be a hero to, even if you were able to see him for him.

Alternatively, a childhood friend would do very well for him. Phainon remembers every precious memory he had with you before he could be coined Chrysos Heir. He attaches himself to you obsessively, completely sure that you’re the only person who could ever understand the true him and relieve the burden of all the blood on his hands.

How likely will he kidnap his darling?

Talking strict kidnapping, 1/10. Phainon doesn't need to keep you in his house to control you - he has power and sway over the people, and when that doesn't work, a few well placed bribes help so that someone has their eye on you at all times. Besides, he wants to see you happy and he wants you to accept him, most of all. Kidnapping you would be the antithesis of all that.

How difficult is it to escape from him? How does he restrain his darling? How does he deal with attempted escape?

10/10 difficulty, both physically and from his area of influence. Phainon would make up all sorts of excuses to stay with you a little while longer, whine and complain that he never gets to see you (lie), and try to wriggle his way into your home or coerce you back to his, even if it might make him seem a bit like... loser. He keeps you stuck to his side and in his shadow by sliding an arm around your waist or shoulder under the pretence of friendliness; he's clingy like you've never known clingy before.

He’s not above using drugs to achieve his desired outcome either, for example, making you so sleepy that you can’t turn down an invitation back to his place. Phainon feels bad about it at first, but when he sees you dozing uncontrollably on his shoulder, it's not difficult to wave the guilt away. And he finds it gets easier the more he does it! So it can't be all bad, can it?

From his area of influence, it’s easy enough to arrange for a little accident, a hiccup with your finances, whatever it takes to keep you within the city and keep you from leaving his side where he can reach you. There's no attempted escape from him - unless you're willing to hurt the people you love on your way out.

How easy is it to trick, deceive, or manipulate him?

For some minor trickery, like making up some excuse to slip away from a social situation, it’s easy enough. Phainon would rather gaslight himself into thinking you’re always right and that you’d never lie to him, and so he’ll let you get away with small lies even if he knows they are lies. True deception and manipulation is tough, however. He’s always two steps ahead of you - experienced warrior, remember? And well-loved by the citizens besides. Somebody would tell on you, even if he slips up.

You could manipulate him by showering him with love if you're smart about it. You'd have to prepare your exit while giving him lots of hugs and kisses and telling him how much you appreciate him, and Phainon will melt. Play to his rose-tinted glasses and you'll be able to conceal your true plans - just be prepared to move fast, and keep running for as long as you live.

How lenient is he? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

He’s pretty liberal in the grand scheme of things. He lets you go about your day, stay in your home, continue to have your friends and family with you. But as Phainon closes in on possessing you, you get the distinct feeling that people are beginning to be uncomfortable around you, and that certain choice people have started disappearing - like the colleague who tried asking you out once. You’d turned him down, of course. But that doesn’t stop Phainon from taking… precautions.

You’re denied your freedom in the sense that every way you turn, you come up against the iron bars of your metaphorical bird cage. A gilded cage is still a cage, after all, and it's frustrating to know that someone is pulling the strings behind the scenes even though you have no idea who it is.

What kind of rules does he have? What kind of punishments would he use?

The one and only rule Phainon has: no leaving his side. And he means that in the grand scheme of things, as in no dying, and no leaving Okhema. He thinks he doesn't ask for much, really!

He isn't actually fond of punishing you. He likes to treat you like a delicate flower, so he lavishes you in all sorts of luxuries and creature comforts. The most punishment he'd ever use would be to isolate you in his home with nothing but himself for company. It's not the worst, all things considered, but I imagine spending a month alone with Phainon is enough to drive anyone up the wall.

How does he deal with rivals, or perceived rivals?

Phainon can be surprisingly peace-loving when it comes to his "rivals", or at the very least has no desire to hurt the people he's supposed to serve and protect. He tries to let killing be his last resort, and calls in favours from here or there to make sure your paths never cross again. Threats would come anonymously and are usually enough to deter them from ever speaking to you again.

He kills when he has to, though, and makes sure to do the deed himself. He wouldn't trust anyone else with such an important job.

How easy is it to make him mad? What does his anger look like?

Phainon doesn’t get mad so much as he gets desperate, upset, and very, very clingy. It hurts him if you reject him, talk about leaving the city or even Amphoreus, or try to lie to him. He’s nothing but good to you and has only ever acted for your benefit, so why do you treat him in this way? Tears are common. He doesn’t intend to guilt trip, but he does it very well. You feel like you're kicking a lost puppy in the rain whenever you hurt him. Is it ever worth it?

In a parallel vein, Phainon does get jealous. That’s when he feels the need to shower you in physical gifts, or mark you with bruises and bite marks and leave you so sore that there’s no doubt about who had done that to you. He wraps you all up in his arms, even in public, making sure that word spreads fast who this Chrysos Heir has his eye on.

Does he see you as above, beneath, or equal to him?

He sees his darling as his saviour, his rock, his anchor to whatever good is left in his world, so I’d say he sees you as above him. You’re his mortal god, and no normal human would ever relinquish their grasp on their god, would they?

How determined is he for you to love him, or is he content just having you?

It's a little bit of both for Phainon. He's not really determined so much as he is the type to roll around on his bed complaining about whyyy don't you love him back, kneel before you and worship the ground you walk on, anything you want.

He'll pour his everything into loving you, but if he expects anything back, it vacillates. He doesn't quite believe he's deserving of love, after all, and if something loves him back he fears he might lose it. So if you spend the rest of your life hating him, he supposes it's alright as long as you're safe, even if it hurts.

It's either that or he falls into a darkness every once in a while and really needs your comfort and affection. Denying him when he's like this is a sure way to be pulled into some... intimate endeavours.

How forceful is he? Does he care about your willingness?

Like before, it depends on his mood. Usually he's doing his best to coax you into warmer feelings for him, but sometimes, he allows himself to slip and treat you as an object of love rather than another person. Phainon isn't really forceful as in fond of using brute force, but he'll manipulate and cajole until your willingness becomes "your idea", or at least until he can gaslight you into thinking it was your idea.

General perverseness: How sexual is he? What's his drive like? Touchy? Any reservations about sexuality?

Touchy? Extremely. And not even in a perverse manner, Phainon just likes hugs and kisses and cuddles that way.

He doesn't really have any reservations about sexuality - he likes you, he wants you, that's all it is to him. But he doesn't like the idea of forcing you either (without the help of certain substances, at least.) He's definitely much more respectful in the beginning, letting you take things at your own pace. Just don't let him wait for too long...

His drive is constant but not uncontrollably high. Phainon's always in the mood to worship his darling, be it through gifts or pleasure. Whatever darling wants, darling gets, and he's more than happy to provide, even to the point of neglecting his own pleasure.

What body parts of his darling does he like the most?

Probably thighs. He just likes the softness and the warmth of it all, squeezing and kneading your flesh. It's intimate but not too intimate, and he can keep you close while he indulges. :)

this post was so incredibly long. please leave a reblog if you enjoyed TT

[r-o-s-e-f-i-r-e]

ok between evan buckley’s cultural black hole of an upbringing and his noted love of documentaries trivia research deep dives etc what i’ve been turning over in my mind palace the last few days is like

tommy logs into instagram once a week to like all of sal and gina’s pictures of baby lila and whatever memes chimney has sent him. he hits a button weird with his gigantic beautiful fingers and gets taken to an instagram reel about uhhh the irish potato famine it doesn’t actually matter what it is he just watches the first few seconds and goes !!! evan was talking about this!!!!! evan thing! thing for evan!!!! tommy immediately shows it to evan later like hey babe weren’t you just talking about this i found more Information for you 👁️👄👁️ and buck watches it and is just like what???? that’s not true. excuse me, he’s - he’s literally making shit up, potatoes are native to the americas, this is misinformation, there was food the english were just exporting it under armed guards it was starvation under colonial rule!!!! he doesn’t even bother to list any citations? that’s not what a primary source is!!!!! and then buck takes tommy’s phone and starts eviscerating some like podcast bro adjacent “real history” account (it’s a funnel into tradwife conspiracy theories and also the podcast bros MLM which evan will never realize because he doesn’t make it to the end of the video he keeps swiping and is like ALL OF THESE ARE WRONG!!! HOW CAN HE JUST LIE ON THE INTERNET LIKE THAT????)

anyway after tommy is like uh??? it eventually comes out that evan’s bubble boy childhood was the natural extension of both of his parents like. being tenured history professors at penn. the only music released after 1980 that he listened to growing up was paul simon’s graceland. they didnt own a television but he spent a lot of time sullenly swinging his feet back and forth in a corner of the special collections library while his dad gave public evening and weekend lectures about Petrarch and bookmaking and how to properly handle manuscripts and his mom edited what would become The defining collection of churchill’s personal correspondence and he Did Not Retain Much Of It out of spite but they drilled how to Accurately Research Anything into his 8 year old brain and it became a fundamental building block of his identity (and maddie’s duh) without them realizing how fucking weird they are. for examp he’s sooo annoyed he doesn’t have a date for the billy boils rodeo stampede in the hospital. the substack he found was run by a uc berkeley folklore MA who emailed buck scans of microfilms of contemporary newspaper articles abt boils & the gang after buck is like nice wiki template 🙄 tommy hears all of this and is like okay. cool. umm where do curses fit into this worldview. and buck is like you’d be a believer too if you’d had PhD students over for dinner every other week comparing traumatic field research stories while your parents nodded along sagely and said stuff like yeah that’s why you don’t fuck around in the catacombs after dark you idiots. ANYWAY that’s all thanks for stopping by

[spaceycat]

okay but imagine young tony or steve knowing your college schedule and planning his whole schedule around it which means he plans his whole life around it (bonus if he’s not dating you yet)

just an idea lol, take ur time and do it if you wanna :))

AHHHHHHHH UESNUES YESY EYEES, COLLEGE!STEVE LET ME AT HIM!! i might make this a two parter ??? maybe the second one will be smut, but the first one will be them getting together LET ME KNOW IF YALL WANT THAT!!!!

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༄.° ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ...  ╰┈➤ 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝟷/𝟸 🧸ྀི

♫ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: i love you the way you are by bobby vinton (2:54)

✰ pairing: college!steve rogers x college!fem!reader

✰ cw: fluff, swearing, kissing, lowkey stalker-ish if you squint, love confessions, characters getting together but not actually stated, steve is a dork

✰ word count: 2.1k+ (lord)

✰ summary: steve notices you in his politics class, he starts to develop a crush on you and he then asks a mutual friend for your schedule - purposely posing himself outside your classrooms so he could make conversation and sitting next to you during politics.

✰ a/n: THEEHHEEHEHHEHEH, there's kinda alot of dialogue but YUHH!! COLOURING MAKES ME WANT TO EXPLODE, SOME OF THE COLOURING IS WEIRD - I BLAME TUMBLR

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༺colour chart༻ reader ❀ steve ☀︎ sam ✈︎

Steve first saw you in his Politics class, he thought you were cute - but nothing really developed from it. That's when your professor paired the two of you up for a project, he then noticed the small things about you - how your pens were chewed, how you sniflled every so often, how you always did your hair in a different way everytime he saw you. Suddenly, a feeling of affection developed into a crush. 

And now, you were sitting in his dorm - he kicked out his roommate as soon as he heard word that you were going to come over for the politics project. He wasn't really focused on the project, not even in the slightest - he just looked at you, his eyes big and wide filled with awe and appreciation that somehow you managed to be the one that was paired up with him.

The two of you were sitting on the floor of his dorm, a few stray pieces of clothes or pieces of paper scattered across the floor. Steve tried to clean up, he really did - but there is only so much you can do in 5 minutes.

He occasionally shifted his eyes down to the notebook infront of him, pretending to atleast do some work - his page was filled with scribbles of some notes, some doodles and now his pen was just absentmindedly scribbling across the page as he continued to keep up this facade.

You were on your computer infront of him, humming to yourself as you scrolled through presentation templates - he was mainly just looking at you know, his notebook discarded on his lap. He took note of your hair, which was down - some strands falling across your face that you had to tuck back behind your ear periodically. He wanted to do that, tuck your hair behind your ear and tell you how pretty you were and kiss you all over and--

Maybe he was getting ahead of himself, I mean you two have solely talked over the presentation - nothing more, nothing least and yet he was nothing short of obsessed.

"We should play some music." Your voice broke him out of his thoughts, he then realised that you were looking straight at him - probably knowing that he's been staring at you for an unhealthy amount of time. "Hm?--" "Music, we should play some." "It's just.. awkward silence, and I want to know what kind of music you're into, Rogers." "Would you believe me if I said hard-core rap?" You stared at him for a moment, squinting your eyes as to figure out if he was serious or not - you'd giggle. "No-- not in a million years."

You put on some music on your computer, it was quiet - just so you could still hear eachother. "Thanks for letting me come over on such a short notice." "Yeah, yeah-- of course."

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The next day, Steve didn't see you - you guys didn't have Politics with each other, so he didn't even see you in the hallway, no awkward eye contact, no overcompensating conversations. He missed it, he missed talking to you and making you laugh.

That's when he saw his room-mate Sam walking down the hallway, he knew that you and Sam were close friends, closer than you and Steve ever were.

"Sam--" "Hey, Steve." Sam continued to walk, Steve caught up with him. "Uh-- you know that one girl, that I was talking about who's in my Politics class?" "Mhm.." "You're friends with her, aren't you?" "Steve, what's this about." "Nothing-- nothing, I just wanted to know what classes she's in." "You better not be trying to get into her pants, Rogers." "No-- no, god no. I just- want to see her more." "Sure." "I'm serious--" Steve stood infront of Sam, stopping him in his tracks. Sam sighed, "Alright fine-- just.. don't be weird about it- okay? I'll talk to her." "God-- thank you, thank you, thank you--" "You owe me, okay?"

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Later, Steve was in his dorm - scrolling through social media on his phone, when Sam walked in setting down his things. Steve looked up at him expectingly, that's when Sam sighed; pulling out a printed out copy of your college classes schedule.

"This is some weird stalker shit yknow--""Dude, shut up." "You must be crazy for this girl if you're literally forcing me to get her schedule.""I didn't force you-- you said you would." "It's still fucking weird, Steve."

His eyes skimmed over the piece of paper, noting that you had night literature class the next day - but that means that he would need to stay on campus hours after his classes just to remotely see you, but that's something he was willing to do.

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The next day, Steve was at the college - his classes have been over for hours now. He was waiting outside your Literature class, ensure how to pose himself. Should he like pretend to accidentally walk into you and be like "Oh, sorry-- I didn't I see you there." No-- no, that's weird. He opted to be pretending to be on his phone, looking busy. That's when people started filtering out of the class. Then he saw you - posing up against the wall.

"Steve?--" "Hm? Oh.. hey." "I thought your classes were over." "Uh-- no, no. Still here." "Well I was about to head to that café up the road.. do you wanna join me?" "Yeah.. I could eat." I could eat? God, his mouth speaks faster than his mind thinks sometimes, but even then he followed you like a lost puppy out of the english building at your college.

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The two of you filed into the cafe, it was late at night at this point - the moon replacing the sun and stars filling the sky. You sat down a booth. Steve ordered a coffee and one of the sandwiches on display while you ordered just a latte, already having eaten.

Awkward silence covered the two of you, your fingers drumming against the table while Steve ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm the stubborn strays.

A waiteress came over, placing down the food and hot drinks - you muttered a thanks as she walked back the way she came. You took a sip of your drink - looking up at Steve hesitantly. This all suddenly felt real.

"What were you doing before I came out of class?" "Oh, y'know-- studying and stuff." "Mhm.." You smiled a bit, taking another sip of coffee - you didnt believe a word Steve had just said but you thought it was charming. "What? You don't believe me?" "Is this another add-on to the hard core rap thing?" "Very funny." He'd cross his arms, tilting his head at you. "What were you actually doing." He let out a sigh, thinking it was better to come clean. "Waiting for you.." "Waiting for hours on end for me?" Steve just shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee. "How'd you know where I was anyways?" "Hm?" He looked up at you, he definitely heard what you said - but as he asked again he silently hoped that the question you asked would miraculously change once he questioned you. "How'd you know where my literature class was.." "..I dont know-- Sam must've told me or something." "Oh shit, I forgot Sam was your roommate." You said with a chuckle taking a sip of your coffee. "Yeah.." "Wait, Sam told me yesterday that he needed my schedule like desperately.. was that you who needed it?" "Well-- well I wouldnt say I needed it like bad or anything--" "It actually was you?" "Well, yeah.. it was.""Why?" "I needed it so see when you were free for the project." "Bullshit--" "What?--" He chuckled, not seeming to get anything past you. "You're a pathological liar, Stevie." He smiled at the nickname, looking down at his coffee - biting his tongue between his teeth as he nodded. "Alright you caught me.." "Oh really?" "I just wanted to know when I could take you on a date." You leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms. "Smooth." Steve fiddled with the coffee mug, his attention solely focused on you - his gaze almost nervous. "What do you say?" "Walk me back to my dorm and I'll think about it." "..Alright." He stood up, paying for the food - practically ushering you out of the door.

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As the two of you walked across the campus, Steve noted how cold it was getting as December rolled near. His hands were shoved in his jacket pockets as he walked slowly beside you - watching as you looked up at the stars of the night sky. The two of you soon neared your dorm building, Steve dragged his hand out of his pocket, grabbing your hand before you could walk inside - his touch gentle and soft.

"You didnt expect me to just forget about the whole date thing did you?" "What, did it seem like I did?" "You're awfully silent, sweetheart.." The nickname just rolled of his tongue, spur of the moment. He watched as you moved closer to him, almost seeking warmth from in from the cold surroundings.

Steve then saw a snowflake fall down into your done-up hair, he then looked up and around - snow started to fall around the two of you. The whiteness coating the trees and the pavement, snow perching itself on each other's hair, shoes and shoulders.

Steve didn't even notice how your attention didn't divert away from him, your eyes still on his face as he looked around the environment. You then pulled him back to reality, back to you by grabbing his chin with your fore-finger and your thumb and tilting it back to face you. The two of you just stared into each other's eyes as you dragged your thumb across his soft bottom lip as you leaned up to place a kiss to his lips - a short and sweet one.

You'd move back down to the soles of your feet, looking up at him. "Was that dumb?--" He didn't even give a response, capturing you in another much needed kiss - filled with love and adoration. It's everything he's ever wanted all in one, your lips still tasting faintly of coffee and the lip balm you were wearing. A hand slipped to cup your face, feeling the soft skin beneath his fingers that his wanted to touch and feel for the longest time. You didn't shy away, you didn't pull back, you kissed him back like you were waiting for this moment as much as he was.

As you both pulled back from the kiss, he noticed a single strand of hair that fell across your face - he then tucked it behind your ear, smiling widely down at you. Adoring the snowflakes adorning your hair and eyelashes as you looked at him with big wide eyes.

"I'd like that date.." "Yeah?" "Yeah.." "Cool." "Cool?-- that's all you're going to say?" You said with a giggle, as a sheepish smile adorned his face. "You're a dork, Steve." You then pulled him back into another short kiss, gripping onto his jacket.

You soon parted ways, as you entered your dorms he just stood there, grinning like an idiot - looking down at the snowy ground. His hands resumed their place in his jacket pockets as he walked back to his dorm building that was on the other side of the campus - but he was willing to make that walk everyday if it means seeing you.

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As Steve walked into his dorm, he took off his jacket and placed his keys near the door. That dorky smile still plastered on his face. Sam noticed almost immediately. "What's got you smiling?" "Nothing, it's nothing." Steve walked over to his bed, sitting down. "Did stalking really get you somewhere?" Steve smiled at him, before nodding - Sam's jaw dropped. "What?!--" "Okay so-- we went out to some cafe, we talked and then we walked back to campus and it started snowing and then we kissed." "Man, what the fuck-- why do you get a romance movie scenario for being a weirdo." Sam leaned back against the wall near his bed, crossing his arms. Steve just shrugged, looking down to the floor.

He was excited for that date, and just to see you again - see you smile, see you laugh because of him. And then he realised that his part of the politics project was due tomorrow and he barely made a dent in it because of him swooning over you, he couldn't have it all.

But he has you, and that's all he really cares about.

[jsmainblog]

nsfw alphabet- spencer reid .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚

requests are always open <3

find the template i used (here)!!

❤️‍🔥 - smut

warnings: talk of nsfw topics, mentions of 18+ activities, mentions of sex toys, cum, postions, kinks, semi public sex, description of body parts.

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

King of aftercare!! Spencer's quite a sweet guy so afterwards he'll make sure you guys cuddle eat and drink and maybe hop in a shower or bath with you!!

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

His favourite body part of himself is probably his hair. he likes how he can change it alot, he also loves getting his hair played with. on his partner i'd say his favourite part of them is probably their eyes because of the emotions they can convey without words.

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

Spencer is quite repulsed by cum bc of his germaphobia he finds it gross and sticky so he'd make an effort to clean up the both of you guys quickly. he usually uses condoms so it dosnet get too messy. but without he'd usually cum on ur stomach or back.

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

Spencer adamantly has admitted for his sexual awakening being princess leia in the third star wars movie. he dosen't t know why but it stirred something within him. hes very embarrassed of it till this day.

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

Spencer understands the theory of sex pretty well. but his actual experience? i'd say his mildly experienced. hes done it with a few partners and hooked up a couple of times over the years but it dosnet mean hes the most experienced guy ever. later seasons spencer would be alot more experience then season 1-2 spencer aswell.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

i'm telling you man spencer loves cowgirl!!! he loves u being ontop of him and you having some sort of control over him, it also ensures that your comfortable and can go at your own pace.

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

Spencer would be rather serious yet would probably ramble off some ramble sex fact about biological factors like hormones etc during it when he gets nervous or flustered.

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

I'd say hes reasonably groomed, probably trimmed pretty well and stuff, probably because of his thing about hygiene.

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

Spencer is the most gentlest, kind person when it comes to this stuff. i dont think he views it so much as a physical release or a way to gain pleasure (obviously its an added bonus), but he likes the feeling that he's as close as he can possibly get to you and that he gets a chance to show how much he loves you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I'd say he'd dabble a bit. spencers a bit of a late bloomer and very shy around this kinda stuff so i'd say he'd only do it when he really really needs it or has a partner. he'd probably call you when hes on a case to jack off to you/your voice when he feels lonely.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

not so much of a kink but he loves if u grab him by the tie or his belt. it gets him a bit hot and bothered. he also has a thing about having sex in semi public places.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

spencer obviously likes the bedroom, empty offices, airport bathrooms and the couch.

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

again his thing for the freaking grabbing of his tie or belt thing it really gets him going. i also think him seeing his partner being very strong in a way. like pinning down an unsub or something like that.

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

spencer would absolutely not do things involving bodily fluids (spitting, pissing etc) he would absolutely hate it/freak out. "do you know how much harmful bacteria is passed doing that? absolutely not."

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

spencer reid is a munch!!!!!! literally everyone thinks this its cannon atp. its like he was born for it and its one of his biggest talents, he loves to give but dosnet mind receiving either.

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

spencer i think takes his time hes very slow, very loving very gentle. ik i keep empathising the gentle but whenever i think so spencer reid and sex i just think gentle so 😭

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

I don't think spencer minds a quickie given the right circumstances. for instance if he's about to go on a case he'd do it if u both wanted to. i dont think they'd be a super regular thing tho. just the odd one here or there.

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

i think spencer does not take risks. purely bc this man has adreneline in him 24/7. i also think he needs to feel safe above everything else and getting a bit risky may infringe on that.

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

he can last quite long. mainly bc he takes his time with you. but i'd say on average he can last anywhere from 45mins to an hour and 30 mins. spencer can defo go for at least 3 rounds once he gets started he's practically insatiable.

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

i'd say he'd own a vibrator or two for his partner. he'd been quite shy and hesitant at first but eventually gave into you. (everytime he turns it on he still gets a bit jumpy)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

i'd think spencer would like to tease a little. he wants to see how much he can work his partner up before caving into their desires. he'd even probably make a little game out of it.

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

HES LOUDDD. but not grunting, growling loud. like whiny, whimpering loud. its crazy.

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

Spencer and you take turns of choosing music when y'all do it. but sometimes u choose horrible music to annoy him which earns a bit more of a rougher treatment of you.

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

yk what they all say its always the skinny ones ;). but honestly hes a bit bigger than average maybe 7-8 inches, its pretty skinny and pale with tinges of pink. like his hands i'd say its pretty veiny. he's always a bit shy about his length and stuff. every girl he does do it with mouth drops once he takes off his pants.

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

i actually headcannon spencer as being someone on the asexual spectrum!! i wouldn't say its non existent or barley there but it would be a bit lower than the average mans.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he stares at you and does all the aftercare stuff but as soon as his head hits that pillow hes out like a freaking light.

[riricatria]

Hiya, hiya~

Back with another piece! Thanks for all the opinions that came in regarding who to write for next! Right now, I'm swimming with ideas for multiple characters, so I'm not quite sure who the next profile is going to be for, but we'll see soon enough! In the meantime, I'm thinking of writing some shorter form content so there doesn't have to be 1,5 weeks in between each post (ᵕ—ᴗ—)

I'm an irremediable whore for this man, not sure if you can tell. Lord have mercy（´∇｀''）

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

CONTENT WARNINGS INCLUDE: Dark content (dead dove), cisfem!Reader, injury to reader (there's blood), the general stuff that comes with yandere content (obsessiveness, possessiveness, imprisonment...), a lot of forced non-schmexual touching, manipulation, manhandling, NONCON, coercion, rope, oral in both directions, fingering, painful coitus (there's blood), size kink, brief anal, manhandling, cockwarming, kithhing, marks, he gets a bit rough, pet names.

Disclaimers can be found in my pinned post. The template is heavily inspired by @/cinnamonest!

S-FW

˗ˏˋ ★ 1. General look: How are they like? How do they behave around the darling? Are there any warning signs?

Ah, the General. You know, the tall, handsome and gentle man that watches over the Luofu and leads his people with quiet self-assurance and accustomed routine? He’s been in the office for as long as you’ve been alive, and according to the elders, the seat has been his for multiple centuries. Even your Vidyadharan acquaintance tells you that the man, Jing Yuan, has held the post for as far back as they can recall.

He’s tall, and he’s strong, and he’s kind, he’s good with his words, he moves so gracefully, his smile is so beautiful, his-, wait, what were you thinking again?

It’s fair to say that he has managed to catch your eye. From the red ribbon in his long, fluffy hair to the little mole on his left cheek... The sight of him gets you feeling certain things. One could say that you have become somewhat enamoured by him. You’re not the only one, no doubt: The General does have a little bit of a womanizer’s aspect to his personality. Many if not most would drop their current life to be with him.

It’s not a reasonable fantasy to have, of course. He’s been alive for, what, over 700 years, and you have been alive for… less than that. Besides, it’s not like you’re actually trying to court him. The little crush you have is more innocent daydreaming material and less an actual, serious endeavour. He doesn’t have a partner as far as you’re aware, but you’re not about to offer yourself up for the position. Being the General’s wife would be a hassle in a league of its own; plus, you doubt you would have a particularly good time in such role. It would bring a myriad of responsibilities, and you would have to become a public figure, too. That kind of life doesn’t really suit your tastes.

That won’t stop you from entertaining your fantasies, though. You wonder how it would be like to lie in his arms, to get to hear his voice the first thing in the morning; what it would feel like to have his fingers run through your hair, how his kisses would be, that sort of thing. It’s all in good humour, and you even tell your friends about your little reveries. They, of course, roll their eyes in a playful manner but engage in the conversation nonetheless. It’s no secret that the General is as dreamy on paper as it gets, and chances are that you have quite a few people to gossip with.

However, your interest doesn’t truly spike before you actually get to meet him in person. One fateful day, you are to visit the Seat of Divine Foresight: You need to bring a few documents in because of your job. It’s something that needs to be taken care of right away, and although such thing isn’t a part of your usual job description, you take on the task nonetheless. It’s not that long of a trip to the office, anyway, and you’re just going in and out.

Exalting Sanctum is quite a mesmerizing place. You don't often have a reason to visit the place since you live elsewhere, but it's always a joy to see the ever-so-lively plaza. The middle square is an especially beautiful sight: People are sitting by the stairs, going about their day, chatting, laughing... The place never disappoints. However, where you're headed is the grandest building amongst the many.

Just in case, before entering the Seat, you check your reflection in the window by the door. You briefly adjust your hair, making sure no strands are sticking to your forehead, before patting down your clothes. Your outfit isn't the most extravagant one, and you're going to stand out a little because of that, but it's not that big of a deal. If you knew you were going to have to take the gig today, you would have dressed nicer, of course — especially since there's always a tiny chance that you could be seeing the object of your interest — but you can do very little about that now. Besides, your clothes don't affect the quality of your work, and they're comfortable, so you decide to hold your head up high and step in.

Your thoughts take an unexpected turn the second you make it inside the grand building, though. Suddenly, when you take foot into where practically all of the Luofu's important decisions are made, your found confidence suffers a small blow. Everybody is dressed in fine garments, important-looking people are striding around the vast room, and there are guards everywhere. Without having even done anything, you have already gotten a few dirty looks. You’re completely out of your element.

You hold the stack of documents in your arms closer to your chest as if they’re going to fly away with all the bustle. The red carpet that leads to the General’s seat feels inappropriate for you to walk on: It’s like you’re trespassing an area that you’re much too low-class to be seen in.

What was her name again, uhh… Ah, Qingzu! You’re supposed to take the papers to someone called Qingzu. You were told she could be found somewhere in the office. You haven’t worked with her before; you have know idea what she even looks like, but surely it’s not that big of a challenge to find her amongst the staff?

After a quick look around, though, the task starts to seem more difficult than you originally thought: There are so many women who could very well be her, all looking equally high in position, carrying around papers and tablets, knee-deep in their own work. There are warriors, there are secretaries, messengers... You quickly give up on the mission and instead start scanning the room for somebody that appears like they could help you find her.

Cautiously, you make your way deeper into the hall, timidly peeking around like a kid lost at a market. Gazing at the opposite end of the place, you come to see that the General's seat is empty, as usual. Albeit you were secretly hoping for a chance to get to meet him in person, it’s a known fact that more often than not, he can’t be found where he should. You've heard various reasons for why it is, ranging from official business affairs to him being an incorrigible slacker. Personally, you believe that it’s a mix of the two: For him to be such an accomplished man, you doubt that he could spend half of his day just lazing around and still get so much done. Then again, there's always some truth to rumours.

You walk up to a woman that’s standing by one of the scroll stacks on the wall. Hesitantly, you introduce yourself and explain that you’re looking for a person called Qingzu, that you’re here on work errands. She looks at you with a slight knit in her brow before letting you know that who you’re searching for is currently on lunch break. Moreover, she suggests that you hand the documents over to her instead.

You’re not sure what you're supposed to do. Logically, it should be okay to trust the woman to handle the job to the end, but you were specifically asked to give the papers to a different person. Your boss made it sound like a literal request, too. So, you swipe your tongue over your lips in a nervous manner and tell her that you can wait for Qingzu to return, that it's not a problem for you. Hearing your response, the woman sends you a tiny look of distaste before insisting that she can take care of it.

It’s a tricky spot to be in. You’re sure that you have a few pairs of eyes on your back already. The guard a short distance away from you discreetly glances your way. The more seconds pass, the more awkward the situation becomes. At the Seat, the pace in which matters are handled is strict and unforgiving, and wasting the employee's time would be a faux pas like no other. It's evident that you're going to have to make a quick decision if you don't want more people to get involved.

Just as you're about to open your mouth, however, the woman's eyes move away from yours, looking at something above your head. Then, you feel a warm hand on your shoulder. A deep, rich male voice speaks behind you, the words demanding respect: "Please allow her to stay until Miss Qingzu returns from her break". Judging from the woman's reaction, the request is less that and more of an order. Without missing a beat, she gives you a curt nod before leaving you standing there with the documents still in your half-extended hands.

You turn around to greet the man. However, as you do, you’re only met with the sight of a chest.

Your heart nearly jumps out of your throat. Your gaze travels up the man's form, trailing from his red pants to the golden symbol of a lion on his right shoulder. You let your eyes stray higher, and soon enough, they come into contact with a couple of striking, yellow ones. It’s him.

Your immediate reaction is to completely freeze in place. A steady warmth makes its way onto your cheeks, as much as you would like for it not to. You become aware of how you're staring at his face, and you avert your gaze from the sight of him to look at the floor, the scrolls on the walls, the banners hanging from the ceiling. The situation is so horribly awkward that you think you would prefer for the ground to swallow you along with the documents. Your boss suffering the minor loss of some papers and an employee is something she would just have to survive. Though, realistically speaking, you prepare yourself to humbly take on a scolding from the General himself, and so you straighten your back and look him in the eye.

However, instead of whatever you were expecting for his reaction to be, the General simply smiles down at you with compassion. His brows are raised in something akin to intrigue, and one of his hands comes up to rest over his chin in a thoughtful pose.

He has to bend down in order to greet you properly. The action is simultaneously a tiny bit belittling and incredibly attractive. He obviously doesn’t mean it in an offending way, and the gentle smile on his face tells the same story. Though everything in his character gives off nothing short of serenity, you yourself are finding it difficult to even stay standing.

He asks for your name. You mumble out an answer, but your voice cracks in the middle. You wish you never chose this occupation. However, instead of acknowledging the blunder, he gives you a courteous nod and introduces himself. Obviously, you would have had to live in one of the cargo boxes at the docks to not know who he is, and even then you would probably have caught the name. The gesture is, however, out of courtesy on his end: It’s a clear attempt to treat you as an equal, as ridiculous as that is when it comes to someone of his status, and so, you accept it with gratitude.

You stammer out the reason for your visit, showing him the stack of papers in your hands. He hums a small, contemplative sound in response.

Then, he asks you to wait by his desk for when the rightful recipient for the documents returns. Your eyes widen at the proposal: You, him... What? But the... You're about to refuse the offer, assuring him that you could just come back later, but there's already a large hand hovering above the small of your back, leading you towards the seat sitting at the grandest spot in the entire hall.

Your head is going hundreds of miles per hour, and every thought is so jumbled that you nearly fail to notice how he plants his palm on the back of your waist in a fairly intimate manner. Obviously, it’s a bit strange for him to be this touchy with a person he has just met, but oh, how exhilarating it feels to be the object of the General’s undivided attention. The entire situation is like straight out of one of your daydreams. You pretend to scratch your arm in favour of pinching yourself, just to make sure that this is, in fact, not a result of your imagination.

You end up standing next to him at his desk, completely still and straight as a twig, for the twenty-something minutes that it takes for Qingzu to appear back in the Seat of Divine Foresight. It's the only thing you can think to do: You're not sure about the etiquette when it comes to places like this, and so you do your best to be as unnoticeable as possible. The General, however, doesn't seem to find it necessary.

He asks you about your work. Hesitantly, you tell him the basics, who you work under, what the documents are about. It’s an attempt at small talk, clearly, but you’re hardly even able to listen to what comes out of his mouth. He’s so close to you, you can almost feel his warmth, and oh Aeons, he’s so handsome. Dealing with something like this is way above your paygrade, but you can't help but thank whatever stars aligned for you to end up where you are.

By the time Qingzu returns from her break, your blush is so deep and your hands so shaky that she has to inquire if you’re feeling alright. Finally being able to hand the papers to her, you thank her profusely and assure her that nothing is wrong. Without any further explanations, you swiftly excuse yourself. Of course, you make sure to bid your goodbyes to the General as well, and you do it along with an apology and a slight bow. He lets you go with a smile so devastatingly good-looking that your blood nearly evaporates. You practically skip your way out of the building.

When you get back to your boss, the first thing she does is laugh at your reddened face. Your thoughts practically radiate off of you, and it’s not particularly difficult to guess at least the basics of what has gone down when looking at you. The deep flush, the way the corners of your mouth are forcibly tugging upwards, and most importantly, the dreamy sigh you let out the second you make it inside your own office. Chances are that she set you up for the whole thing, knowing that you have the hots for the General, but you couldn't care less: You can't wait to share all what happened with your coworkers. In your elation, you decide to set the pessimistic rationale of what he must have thought of the encounter aside, and instead, you go on to gush about it like reciting a romantic drama script. It's all light-hearted fun, and the tale is sure to entertain every lover girl at the office.

Though, whatever you're thinking is going through Jing Yuan’s mind all the way back at the Seat of Divine Foresight is most likely quite far from the truth. Outwardly, he doesn't seem affected at all: He appears like his usual self, going over some work matters with glazed-over eyes, reading through the scrolls, writing down notes. If anything, he looks like he’s about to fall asleep, which is not that far from the usual, but in his head, he's anything but drowsy.

You’re lovely. It’s all he can think about. From your pretty face to the way your hands trembled out of nervousness in his company, your hair, your eyes, your meek voice, how you carried yourself despite the anxiety. What a rotten coincidence it would have been if he had missed you: You nearly walked out right in front of his eyes!

Immediately, he recognizes that he's attracted to you. However, unlike with most yanderes, what he’s feeling is closer to pure romantic interest than the overwhelming desire to possess you. It’s been a good while, centuries, even, since someone has last caught his eye in this way, but it's nothing severe enough to make him spiral. For now, in his eyes, you're a terribly pretty thing, but that's as far as it goes. Though, if he were to get to know you better, things could take a different course.

As luck would have it, your boss sends you on the very same types of errands in the future as well. She’s a cunning lady, true to her Foxian blood, and so she has claimed it as her responsibility to see that you get more fuel for your crush. Not only are you much more efficient that way, but the gleeful grin on your face is more than enough of a reason for her to put in a bit more effort. All in all, it’s a wholesome turn of events.

You start seeing the General on a regular basis while conducting the tasks delegated to you. More often than not, he’s at his desk when you pop up, and each time, he greets you with the same warmth as he did the first time. The relationship between the two of you slowly gets more and more cordial, until eventually, you would dare to call him ”your acquaintance”. Anything beyond that is off the table since he’s still a much more powerful figure than you could ever be, but it's far beyond enough for you. He listens to you talk about your day, about your boss, about your personal life, even. He doesn't seem that keen on sharing his own stories with you, but you're more than happy with the arrangement. You have learned that listening is his strong suit.

Though, as time goes by, you start to notice that your initial crush on him has begun dwindling down. As you have gotten to know him better, the attraction has slowly lost substance until your heart doesn't even leap anymore when you see him at his seat. It's not to say that you don't like him, no, but these days, the romantic scenarios you used to make up of him seem silly, more than anything. He has become something ordinary.

He knows, of course, that much like many people before you, the interest you initially showed at him was the youthful, innocent kind. It’s no unusual thing for him to have to deal with; he knows he’s quite a handsome guy. From you, especially, it was incredibly flattering: He could have bathed in your gaze like sun-warmed lake water, relished the red that adorned your cheeks, but as time has gone on, he no longer senses the same type of infatuation from you. Now that the two of you have actually gotten to know each other, it’s almost like you think of him as a… friend.

The second that the revelation comes to him, his sanity, the figurative floor that has kept him from falling into depravity, shatters under him, and he falls head first into the endless pit of his own self-absorption. The change occurs in a heartbeat, quite possibly in the middle of a conversation between you and him. Uncharacteristically, he seems to pause in the middle of his sentence, as if having forgotten what he was about to say, but he quickly composes himself. However, in that single moment, all of his psyche has flipped upside-down. And, the worst thing is that, you won’t catch a single glimpse of it.

He’s skilled when it comes to the art of concealing one’s emotions. He has had to do it for the past seven centuries, so it would be quite embarrassing if he hadn’t already caught the gist of it. Despite the way all of his mental alarms are going off at the same time, he continues the chat with you, completely unfazed.

He can’t believe you don’t harbour that sort of affection towards him anymore. It wasn't obvious then, but it seems that he took your attention for granted. He feels like the chance he knew he had slips from his fingers right then and there, as if a switch had been flipped. His mind is flooded with beyond unpleasant thoughts about all the losses he has had to witness, the death, the pain, everything. The image of you turning your back to him is enough to raise his pulse to near hysteria. Everything is about to come crashing down, and he’s just quick enough to excuse himself for some mundane reason before he loses himself.

It's so selfish. How could he be so selfish? How did he not see that, with every conversation, with every exchanged smile, your interest in him had lost substance bit by bit, and now he's left with nothing but a friend. You were supposed to adore him, to be all jittery when looking him in the eye. He didn't consider himself a self-centered person, but it seems that he has to reconsider that. You, little, tiny you have been holding so much power over him and he didn't even notice it.

He hasn’t had to deal with his vulnerable side for a good while. In his everyday life, there’s hardly anything that would be upsetting enough to affect him like this. It’s a terribly egotistical thought, he recognizes, but he simply can’t stomach the idea of your interest dying down. Unbeknown to you, and, he sees now, to him, he has breathed in your presence like it’s oxygen to him. He sits down and buries his face in his palms.

˗ˏˋ ★ 2. Securing: How will they abduct their darling? When, where and how?

For the next few days after his breakdown, Jing Yuan ponders over the options he has. Obviously, the most reasonable and morally correct action would be to just… let you live. He takes pride in being justful and kind, and every other alternative plan would be sheer mockery of such descriptions. The Luofu is particular about the citizens’ rights, too: Wrongful imprisonment would be against at least a dozen laws, and even more when taking his position into the equation.

But, then again, he needs you. It's not justifiable in any way, and he doesn’t understand it himself, either, but he can’t deny the fact that he would cut off his own arm if it meant that he could wake up to the sight of you every day. No matter how many days go by, that urge doesn’t die down — it grows stronger and stronger, until abducting you is all he can think about.

He’s vaguely pretending in his mind that, no, he isn’t conducting a plan for kidnapping you, but that’s exactly what he’s doing. During this time, he spends more time in his house than usual — to the point where Yanqing has to question if "the General is feeling under the weather". Despite the concern, he assures everyone that he’s doing fine, that he has just been busy outside of work matters. Truth to be told, he’s at his wit’s end regarding the entire thing, but nevertheless, he doesn’t stop pursuing his goal.

The eventual, inevitable outcome is that he abandons his honour in favour of achieving, well, you. It's the result of multiple days' careful consideration and a generous amount of introspection, but no matter which way he looks at it, he always ends up choosing you over anything else. And, when he makes his final decision, it's like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. Jingliu would be really proud of him for this one.

Ultimately, his plan isn’t even that grand or scrupulous as one would perhaps expect from him. Yes, it’s not particularly risky, either, but at its core, it's as simple as it gets. So much so, even, that when it has been conducted, you don’t immediately realize that you have just become a victim of his whims.

It’s an ordinary day. You have, once again, been tasked to visit the Seat of Divine Foresight, and as is usual, the General is there, sitting at his desk with a scroll of text spread over the table. He raises his gaze when you step in, welcoming you with his typical, soft smile that used to make your heart leap out of your chest. These days, you only feel the steady delight that comes when seeing someone dear to you.

You’re about to drop the documents off to Qingzu again, but this time, he stops you before you can begin searching for the woman. ”Actually, she informed me that it would be best if they were delivered directly at my residence”, he claims, gesturing at the papers in your hands. Your eyes widen a little, caught off-guard by the statement, but you're quick to compose yourself. It’s not unusual for him to take some work matters back to his house, and besides, for him to request something from you should be an honour! Hence, you don't think that much of it. You agree to his proposal, setting the stack on his desk instead of finding Qingzu, but he continues: ”That, and I have a few documents to send back to your boss. Would it be an inconvenience if your errand were to stretch a bit?”

You look at him, down at the documents, back at him. It’s a bit of an odd suggestion, considering that such a thing has never been asked of you before, but then your rational mind takes over. Surely, it’s not that big of a deal to walk to his place and back since there’s a good reason for it, too, right? You know roughly where the house is, anyway, so maybe you can make it back by starskiff before your boss starts wondering if you’re slacking off. Plus, there’s no reason for you not to trust the General. He’s been nothing but cordial to you, which has made your job far easier and much more pleasant than it would be under normal circumstances. And then again, your boss is probably going to be more than happy about you seeing an extra task through than not strictly sticking to the schedule.

You agree to the plan. His expression softens. He informs you that you’ll be leaving in a quarter of an hour. Nothing in his behaviour is indicative of anything out of the ordinary.

The two of you head to his house. Through the crowded streets of the Xianzhou Luofu and all the way to where his residence stands on top of a little hill, you walk beside him. You sit next to him in the starskiff that takes you to a completely different part of the ship. Throughout the trip, he makes little attempts at talking to you about nothing in particular, maybe trying to ease your mind, maybe just out of courtesy, but aside from those, he’s unusually quiet. That, and you notice that his pace is a tiny bit hasty. Your legs are starting to strain from constantly having to catch up with him. You don’t dare comment on it, however — it’s probably just your height difference. He’s really tall, so it’s likely just what he’s used to.

It’s not. He’s putting all of his willpower into not speed-walking his way through the entire commute. He’s very much aware of how you’re just barely keeping up with his pace, but it’s the best he can do, really. The more people there are that see you, the bigger the risk of somebody finding out what he is about to do. However, the great thing about being in his position is that nobody, nobody would dare to question him if it comes to having to prove his innocence. It’s a terribly corrupt use of his status, he knows, but moral sacrifices like that are only necessary when working towards a greater aim.

When you arrive at his residence, you can't help but marvel at the sight of it. His place is a beautiful, traditional Luofu house with a large yard and a tall fence surrounding the premises. You comment on it, telling him that you find the view gorgeous. He just gives you a smile as a response.

He leads you inside the house. You immediately come to question the fact that it's awfully dark: Maybe he's really that mindful about his energy usage? Though, even when the two of you get further into the building, he doesn't switch any lights on. An uneasy feeling is making itself known in the pit of your stomach.

You consider asking him to just retrieve whatever he has to from inside the house, but as he doesn’t suggest it himself, you conclude that it would be rude to question him. You follow him through a few rooms, gazing at the interior with curiosity, having your eyes travel over the ornate items on the walls, the paintings, a chess board spread on one of the tables… His house is surprisingly ordinary, at least according to your standards, though it's a bit hard to make it all out in the dim lighting.

He opens one last door at the very back of the apartment and holds it open for you to enter the room behind it. You walk past him, stepping into the darkness, squinting your eyes to see anything. You’re just about to gently propose that perhaps he should turn the lights on, but when you turn around, you hear the lock click shut behind you.

The room is pitch black. You have been rendered blind. The violent shiver that runs down your spine cannot be described in words. Your stomach flips in the same instant, and an ice-cold surge of terror floods into your bloodstream.

No, maybe he’s just… maybe he’s just… It’s because he’s…

The very same moment you realize that you have run out of justifications, his hand shoots out from the darkness to grab your form. You try to dodge, but of course, no person on this planet holds enough strength to be able to resist General Jing Yuan.

His arm wraps around your upper body, effectively locking you in place. His other hand goes to rest over your mouth, large enough to cover the entire lower half of your face. His chest is firm against your back, and no matter how you try to tear at his arm, he won’t as much as budge. When you start flailing your legs and trying to step on his toes, kick at his shins, aiming in between his legs, he lifts your entire body in the air like you weighed nothing to him. In a disproportionately calm voice considering the situation, he speaks in your ear, telling you to ”calm down, you’re only going to hurt yourself".

Naturally, that doesn't make you give up the fight even the slightest bit. Still, no matter how hard you struggle against him, your screams are muffled by his palm pressing against your mouth, and whatever little punches you’re able to land at his sides do nothing but tire you out further. The true panic is starting to set in, and your movements are getting more and more haphazard. He takes note of this, of course, and lets up his grip on your face a tiny bit to let you breathe. There’s nobody around that could hear your trouble, anyway.

When you run out of energy to put up a physical struggle, you resort to pleading with him, begging him to let you go, telling him that ”you won’t tell anybody if he just lets you go back, you won’t tell your boss, you won’t tell anybody, you swear”, but none of it really registers in his brain. At the moment, he's hardly capable of sensible thought. He’s still holding you in the air, just to be sure, but it seems that the worst is over for now. He lets out a sigh of relief.

A few tears have rolled down your cheeks and caught on the hand that’s still slotted against your face. He knows that you’re terrified out of your mind, that you don’t understand the least bit of what’s happening; you might even think that you’re in immediate danger, that he’s going to harm you. The idea of you going through such thing does cause his chest to ache a bit, but he’s sure that, with time, the fear you feel now will turn into something much more pleasant. And, fortunately for him, he has time.

˗ˏˋ ★ 3. Life: What is it like to live with them? How do they treat the darling?

The first few days are rough for you. Properly speaking, it's not because of him; he won’t put you through anything too harsh at the start (considering what he could be doing), but the frightening part is that you have been left in the dark regarding his intentions. It’s not that he means for you to feel that way — it’s more that he doesn’t know how to talk to you yet. You're in a highly vulnerable place mentally, and so, he doesn't want to inflict any further unintentional damage by getting too close too fast. Unless you make the initiative to talk to him, he won’t force you to converse with him at all in the first week or so. You have your own room that you’re locked in, and he doesn’t really talk to you when he brings you your meals and whatever else you might need. He greets you and says a few things, of course, but nothing beyond that.

When it comes to the room itself, it could be much worse. It���s nicely furnished: You have a large, plush bed to sleep in, you have your own bathroom, he has left you things to pass time with, and you can see the beautiful view of his yard through the tall window on the north wall. All things considered, it’s far from the worst place to be imprisoned in. It used to be one of his spare bedrooms, actually. "But it's all yours now", he tells you as he sets a bowl of rice in front of your huddled form in the room's farthest corner.

Though, after a few days’ ”settling in”-period, you're going to have to start cheering up a bit. He’s going to come into your room one day with your dinner. It’s just like all the previous evenings, but this time, he doesn’t leave after the few soulless sentences he utters. Instead, he sets his share of the food beside yours and sits down in front of where you’re balled up in the corner. It seems to have become your favourite spot — it must feel safe to you in some way. He makes sure to keep his distance for now, not entering your personal space, but it still leaves you feeling trapped. He slides your bowl closer to you, urging you to eat, but your hands remain tightly slotted against your chest as if you feared that he was going to cut off your fingers. He sighs at the display.

He asks you how you’re doing. The answer is obvious, you’re not faring too well, but the question is more about the sentiment behind it than your actual answer. He averts his gaze from your quivering form for a moment.

It takes a while for him to find suitable words for the situation. However, after he does, he opens the conversation by apologizing. You’re not the least bit impressed by his show of regret, and you make it known by pulling even further into yourself. You debate on if you should kick the bowl of food over just to get the point across, but as if sensing your intent, he moves the thing to the side.

He begins explaining your situation to you to the best of his ability. He lets you know that he’s not going to hurt you, that you haven’t done anything wrong, that he loves you, and that he’s not going to let you out. It all comes out of his mouth one thing after another, perhaps in an effort not to prolong the suspense. You’re equally horrified and confused by each of the claims, but the two latter ones are evidently the most shocking to you. The dried streaks of tears that adorn your face look like they’re going to get a fresh round in a bit. You swallow down a lump in your throat, willing yourself not to cry in front of him.

He promises to answer any and all of your questions if you have them. You have a difficult time deciphering what his eyes convey. It’s your decision whether or not you want to talk to him right away because the offer will remain open as long as you’re there with him, but he's a bit more receptive at the start of your captivity. If you don’t take the opportunity, he won't bother you any further with conversation attempts, and the two of you are going to eat in silence. Nevertheless, though, whatever your choice is, the moment marks the end of your adjustment period.

When it comes to his day-to-day life, you'll notice that his time isn’t really bound by that strict of a routine. He wakes up early in the morning, yes, and he has his job to attend most days, but other than that, you’ll be spending a lot of time with him in his house.

He feeds you, takes care of your needs, makes sure that you’re doing okay and that you’re in as sound of a mental space as you can be, circumstances taken into account. You have his attention whenever you desire it, no matter what he’s currently occupied with. He attempts to strike up chats with you, varying in topic, and slowly but surely, he has been able to get words out of you. Whether it’s you asking him for something or even complaining, he gladly accepts it all. He also takes you outside whenever he’s able: It’s important for you to get sunlight, and besides, the yard is much more spacious than the room you’re holed up in. It’s under the condition that your wrist is linked to his with a red tie, though, so you can’t make a run for it, but he lets you roam around as much as you’d like.

When it comes to his free time, as mentioned, he likes to spend it with you. From the conversations he used to have with you back when you were still free, he has a pretty good idea of the stuff that you're into. Whether it be arts or sports or anything in between, he suggests doing it with you. More often than not, you decline, and it does set him back a bit. If you're not up for doing it with him, he's perfectly fine with just watching you. You point out that it's equally as awkward if not even more so, but he insists that he doesn't mind. He likes to watch you do things, no matter what they are.

His personal favourite activities are, however, napping, gardening and chess. All of these are even better with you, naturally. It doesn't matter if you don't know the least bit about any of them (though napping is not the most demanding hobby to have), he guides you through with a gentle hand on your back. "I don't know the rules" is not valid enough of a reason to get out of playing board games with him, and neither is "I'm bad at it". He'll sit you on his lap and literally guide your hand on the pieces if he has to.

He also has a really sneaky way to get you to play with him. Times when you're clearly not feeling like it, he might pick you up and pretend to want to nap with you. Fearing the two-hour heater treatment and the sheer boredom that comes with it, you hastily propose that you do something else instead. "Hmm, what would you suggest?" is a difficult question to answer on the fly, and so, you end up going with the chess. Regardless of if you choose that or the nap, it's a win for him. Cunning fuck.

At night, the two of you sleep in the same bed; either yours or his. You won’t be able to escape from him since the only position he allows you to rest in is encased in his arms. You’re tightly pressed against his broad chest, head tucked under his chin. It gets kind of hot like that, but no matter how many times you complain about it, he insists on doing it. You feel like you’re cuddling a radiator.

Jing Yuan is not a bad yandere to be with, all things considered. If you weren’t held in his house against your will, one could think that it’s just an ordinary, happy relationship you have with him.

˗ˏˋ ★ 4. Rules: What kind of rules do they enforce? How lenient are they? How do they keep their darling in check?

He doesn’t really set out any rules for you. It’s more that he assumes that you understand them yourself. He did state that ”he’s not going to let you escape, unfortunately”, so that’s given, but aside from that, he’s incredibly lenient. You can yell at him all you want, insult him, curse at him, punch him, kick him — anything you fancy, really. Though, if you get really violent with him, he will restrict your movements. It’s not like your hits do a lot to his rock-solid body, but he would prefer not to be beaten regardless. Though, it’s good that you’re attempting to channel your rage to something else than yourself, he thinks.

Another thing is that he would rather not have you break stuff in your room. He can replace all of it, of course, but it’s always a bit of a hassle to do so. That, and hey, the room didn’t really do anything to you. It kind of pains him to see that you would place so little value on his home. However, if it makes you feel better, then who is he to say no to you: He could get you a dummy in your room if you're so keen on venting your aggression in violent ways.

The most severe restriction in your life is the fact that he doesn’t ever let you wander further than his yard. When he’s around, you’re allowed to explore the entire house (preferably where he’s able to see you), and he takes you outside whenever you’re feeling like it, but it’s going to be a miracle if you ever see the planet outside of his residence again. He knows it’s not ideal: It’s good for one’s mental health not to constantly look at the same view, but it’s a necessary evil, he thinks. He's simultaneously more lenient and far stricter compared to other yanderes when it comes to controlling where you get to roam: Though you'll never get to wander any further than his house, the entire plot is yours to explore (under his watchful eye, of course). He could be far less merciful.

A major part of his lenience comes from the fact that he feels remorse for having abducted you — especially now that you don’t seem to be particularly pleased about the turn of events. He’s not going to set you free by any means, of course not, but he still feels sorry for the anguish he has caused. That being said, he’s incredibly weak to things you might suggest. If you want anything, he’ll most likely get it for you (to a reasonable degree). If you want to go for a walk, he’ll take you. Whatever it is, he’ll abandon his work in favour of entertaining you.

When it comes to keeping you in check, he himself wouldn’t like to use that term. It’s more about ”making sure that you don’t so stupid things”. He doesn’t do violence, he doesn’t make threats, doesn’t tie you down, doesn’t really restrict you in any other way than locking you in your room, and even that is usually only if he has to leave for work or if you've been difficult. He’s fairly confident that you won’t be able to escape from there, so he doesn’t see the need for further precautions. Your furniture is much too heavy for you to lift, and the lock cannot be picked. Yes, if you rammed yourself into the window full force, you could technically make it out, but he doubts you have the courage for that. More on this later.

It’s not that he can’t be firm when it comes to setting boundaries, though. He’s a very confident man, and if there’s something that is absolutely off-limits, he will let you know in the calm, rich and absolute tone of his. And, you should know that when he says no, it really is a no.

˗ˏˋ ★ 5. Consequences: What kind of punishments will the darling face? How do they punish different offences?

Usually, his punishments are not that severe. He doesn’t penalize mild offences that he perhaps should: These include things like badmouthing him, yelling, trying to hurt him (with some exceptions), refusing to speak to him, that sort of thing. He doesn’t believe in reprimanding you more than strictly necessary, and the purpose is not to scare you or hurt you for the sake of it. Moreover, he doesn’t have any go-to methods; he will do whatever he deems suitable at the moment.

What he does punish you for, for example, is the aforementioned breaking things. He has a spare room in his residence for when he has to have you out of your own for whatever reason. It’s a crammed, empty space with no windows, and that’s where you’ll be spending an hour or two if you decide to trash what he has so gracefully provided you with. It’s dark in there, and it’s so narrow that you’re barely able to lie on the floor without your head or your feet touching the wall, so you don’t particularly enjoy the times he puts you in there. He might also throw you for a cooldown in the damned cabinet if you seriously don’t stop trying to beat him up. As much as he would like to, he really can’t have you trying to punch his face in when he’s trying to bring you dinner. He would prefer not to spill the food on the floor.

Then again, if you start getting a bit more creative with your attempts at trying to cause physical harm to him, you will face at least some degree of consequences. If you were to, say, try to stab him with your utensils when he comes to have lunch with you, he won’t take the action lightly. He obviously dodges the hit — what kind of a swordmaster would he be if his reflexes were that weak — but it’s the notion that he’s more concerned about. He firmly grabs your wrist in the air, giving it a warning squeeze. He lets you know that ”if you do it again, he’ll have to think of another way for you to eat”. The point gets across, at least for now. The same thing goes for things like, eh, assassination attempts while he’s sleeping, hurling sharp objects at him, and so on. You should know that his threats are not empty, either: He could feed you by hand if you prove untrustworthy with your chopsticks.

If he has time and he needs to teach you a lesson, one of his methods is forcing you to sit in his lap for hours on end. It’s not a particularly comfortable position for you: His legs are hoisted over yours, effectively locking you in place, and he’s holding both of your hands in one of his. No amount of struggling is going to get him to let you go until he’s satisfied. The duration of this procedure varies: It could be just for until he’s done with his work, or it could be basically for the entire day. You never know with him.

It also serves as an effective method to calm you down. It's how animals are soothed as well; by holding them down until the body gets the message that there's no danger. That, and the more energy you spend on trying to wrestle yourself out of his grasp, the calmer you are afterwards. It's not even that much of a punishment, truly; you should be grateful that this is his method.

If you try to escape from him, though, you’ll come to understand the worst extent of the consequences he can offer you. As much as he would like for it not to happen, you almost flee once when you, against his expectations, manage to ram yourself into the window with enough force to shatter the glass. It’s after a considerable amount of attempts, and you had to switch elbows after a while since your entire side felt like it was bruising, but after numerous times of running against the window, you hear how it cracks. A few more hits, and your entire arm crashes through the windowpane.

Your forearm suffers a deep gash in the process. Blood spills from the wound, but you have no time to think about stemming the flow as you focus on making the hole in the window large enough for you to fit through. You tear away a part of the now broken muntin to use as a tool to break away the sharpest points on the glass, being as quick and as precise as you’re possibly able. Within a few minutes, you deem your work good enough, set your foot on the window sill, and climb out of the building.

The General has been away for quite some time now. It’s only a matter of time that he returns to the house, so you know you need to be swift. The main exit is at the front of the house, and if you make it there, you’ll be free. Not caring about the way your own blood is staining your clothes red, you start running your way around the building.

The residence is not that big. It’s just that your room is facing the back side of the premises, right into his garden. You have to make it past the twisting paths that line the ponds and fountains, and then you’ll need to cross the smaller fence that separates the back from the front of the plot. Your panic is keeping your arm from hurting; the adrenaline is blocking the agony. You’re certain that the excruciating pain will catch up to you soon enough, and you would prefer that moment to be when you’re already far out of his reach. So, you leap over all that garnishes his yard, wetting your socks as you scramble through the water and to the other side where the inner fence stands.

The thing is higher than you remember, now that it actually comes to you having to jump over it; it’s all the way up to your neck. It would not be as strenuous of an effort if both of your arms were still in the game, but now, it’s a bigger challenge to get past the thing. You wince as you slide the pads of your fingers over the barrier's jagged texture.

Regardless, you have no choice but to make it through. Determined to make your escape, you start manoeuvring yourself over the fence with only one hand. Every single spot on your body strains as you do your best to see the endeavour through, and your palms scrape against the rough surface, most likely drawing blood. Still, clenching your teeth, you grasp the edge with all your might, fling one of your legs over the top, and with great pain, you manage to cross the fence.

Your body tumbles down onto the other side of the gravel. You fall right on your back on the hard ground, and you're hit with an overwhelming urge to vomit. However, you only allow yourself a single second of rest before rising onto your feet and directing your attention to the exit.

He’s standing there.

Your eyes lock with his. The expression on his face is completely unreadable. Though, if there’s one thing to note, it’s the fact that the usual smile has disappeared from his features. He stands completely still, staring at the sight of you with his hands resting on his sides.

You don’t make an attempt to sprint for the exit. You know you can’t make it past him. All hope you had gathered in your being dissipates into the air like it was never there. Despite your heart still hammering in your ears, you’re suddenly all too aware of how your wounded arm aches to the point of it radiating into your entire upper body.

He strides towards you. As a last ditch effort, you attempt to dart to the side and dive under his arm when he reaches out for you. For once, he doesn’t expect defiance, and you manage to evade his grasp. You manage to get a few meters further before you feel his fingers dig into the back of your shirt. He yanks you backwards with an unusual amount of force. You let out a yelp, choking at the way your collar tightens against your throat. Regardless, you do your best to turn around and rip his grip off of you. It’s a futile effort, of course, and with a single tug of his hand, he immobilizes your body against his.

You don’t fight him when he wordlessly wraps one arm over the backside of your thighs. He hoists you over his shoulder with roughness you’re not quite used to. The air is knocked out of your lungs as your chest is thrown against his upper back.

The entire aftermath is messy. Not necessarily physically, although it can be that, too, but emotionally. He doesn’t show it on his face, but you can’t miss the way his hands tremble the slightest bit; such bodily reaction is so out of ordinary for someone like him. The feeling is the same as when he first realized that his love for you was less that and more obsession. It’s the sudden realization that you could very well leave him if you so desired, and now that you have shown him that you’re capable of it, he has to admit it to himself that he truly has been startled. He’s nothing short of a level-headed man, but you’re the one piece in his life that threatens that.

He brings you into his room. As much as he's trying to curb his anger, he can't help the way he flings you onto his bed. You let out a frightened little yelp as he does, but he can't find it in himself to care. Instead, he climbs on top of you and grabs your entire face. His fingers dig into your cheeks, your temples, your jaw. Your eyes are blown wide open, trying to suck in frantic breaths through where his palm presses against your lips.

Then, his grip tightens. Simultaneously, his other hand latches around your wounded forearm, squeezing tight. Strangled wheezes and muffled pleas erupt from your mouth as his fingers sink into the open flesh, his nails sting against the gash, meant to hurt. Your entire body is trembling along with the whimpers that spill past your lips. Despite how you beg, his grip only gets more and more crushing.

You fear he's going to shatter your jaw. Your arm has gone numb from how much pain it has been projected to. Instead of your words, you attempt to plead with him with your eyes. It proves to be a terrifying task, however, when you come to find that his gaze is solely focused on your own. His pupils are sharp, his face expressionless, and most terrifyingly, he doesn't seem to have heard a single word you said. Your tears catch against hand, but not even that is enough to pull him out of his trance.

It's only when you let out a desperate shriek that his hand flies off your face like he had set it on a stovetop. A simple "ow-ow-OW" is enough to break him away from the daze, and in a split second, he releases his grip. You immediately curl in on yourself, bringing your bloodied arm against your heaving chest.

He himself is breathing heavily, too: Seeing the state that you're in, the reality becomes apparent to him. He rises off your body, sucking in a deep inhale and closing his eyes. For a moment, he just stands on his knees above your form, straddling you with his arms resting on his sides. You're not sure what it is that he's doing: It looks like he has fallen into another stupor, almost, but the way his fists are clenched tells a different story. It's not like you can really concentrate on the sight, though. Your eyes are swimming with tears, and the pain is so unbearable that you wonder how long you're going to be able to remain conscious.

Still, after a long minute, he opens his eyes and slowly exhales through his nose. Blinking a few times, his gaze settles on your form. He couldn’t care less for how the blood that now stains his hand seeps into your shirt as he softly sets his palm above your stomach. Your increasingly rapid pulse rushes beneath your sweat-clad skin where he gently pushes down on your abdomen. His lashes fall shut again.

He lets you know that he’s going to have to lock you in the spare room for a few days. You hardly even react to the statement, much too absorbed in your own thoughts and the pain that’s shooting up your arm. ”I know it’s not pleasant, but considering what you did, I assume you were prepared for it”, he continues, stroking his thumb against your skin.

He asks you to remain still while he goes get something for your wounds. Your face contorts to something akin to distress, but the expression fades away in the very same second. Instead, you let out a near-silent sob, and a single tear runs down your cheek.

˗ˏˋ ★ 6. Emotions I: How do they show love? How do they attempt to make the darling love them?

Jing Yuan is a force to be reckoned with when it comes to affection. Not only is he a naturally gentle person but also a sucker for romantic gestures. That being said, be prepared to be showered in (unwanted) love.

The first and biggest thing for him is touch. Touch here, touch there, touch-touch-touch. It’s like he has a health bar on him that gradually goes down and only regenerates when he gets to have his hands on you. That’s how much you have to deal with his physical side.

He can’t help it. Every chance he gets, you feel his fingers dancing along the curve of your shoulders, brushing through your hair, ”adjusting your clothing” in favour of getting to touch you. He loves the subtlety of it all: It’s enough to satisfy his need for closeness while simultaneously being just mild enough for you to not get upset at his ministrations. Of course, if you show a negative response, he won't push the limit too far. Be mindful, though, because rejecting his advances will only work at the start: If you don’t allow him to touch you, the eventual outcome is that he starts doing it against your will, and it’s only going to escalate from there. The man needs his hugs.

Ah, hugs. Those and cuddling are the source of his life energy. He does both multiple times a day, and whenever he does, you feel like his body is about to consume you. He’s a large man: His hand fits around your entire bicep, and he can hold your weight up with only one arm. That being said, he gets creative with how he embraces you. He could have you lie in his lap, either straight or sideways, or he could spoon you, or then he could just hug you the classic way. The front, the side, the back, he doesn’t really have a preference. If he makes you nap with him, he also enjoys sort of half-lying on top of you. He can’t do it with his full weight, of course, since he would crush you, but it’s comforting to him while simultaneously making sure that you can’t flee from him.

Then, he loves-loves-loves to massage you. He would do it every other hour if you just would let him. As much as you don’t like giving in to his whims, you must admit that he’s ridiculously good at it. If you’ve been looking especially groggy and irritable, he might take you to the garden and sit you down on the grass. You wonder if he’s going to make you play a game of his fuckass chess again, but no. Instead, he takes a seat behind you. With the back of his hand, he lightly nudges your lower back to coax you to straighten your posture, and as you do, his touch moves up to your shoulders.

The way his thumbs press against the muscle connecting the back of your neck to your shoulder is firm yet as gentle as he could possibly be. Carefully, he makes a repetitive, round shape on your skin before moving a little bit lower. His palms are so warm, and oh, it feels so good that a part of you wants to just stand up and leave in order to not give him the satisfaction of knowing exactly how pleasant it is. However, you don’t, and within ten minutes, his hands come up from either side of your neck to softly tilt your chin up because your head is starting to droop.

It also goes when you’re lying down. He does it in the bedroom (in an innocent way) since it’s much more convenient to have you rest on the bed on your stomach. He can have your back bare that way, too, and he's able to straddle you unlike when you’re sitting up. Scalp, feet, hands, he massages them all like it’s his favourite thing in the entire universe, which is probably not too far from the truth.

Other physical things he does include unlimited headpats, carrying you around (he takes a lot of pride in this one, and you’re not pleased), and playing with your hair to the point that he messes it up. He would probably stick a finger up your nose if it meant that he got to touch you. Though, if you’re really resistant to having him close to you, he tones it down quite a bit. He’s a respectful man, but admittedly, your life is a lot more pleasant if you just entertain him.

In addition, bathing with you is a thing he takes immense pleasure in. He has got quite a mane on his head, and if you do as well, he would like nothing more than to care for your hair for you. He has a big tub in his house for both of you to soak in, and he prolongs the washing time to the best of his ability until you forcibly remove yourself from the bath. Usually, you’re feeling a bit spiteful and don’t let him go beyond what’s necessary, but sometimes, you allow him to conduct the entire menu: He washes your whole body down, gives you a good back rub, takes care of your hair, everything. He would probably go into cardiac arrest if you showed any interest in doing the same for him, so that’s something to keep in mind.

Lastly, Jing Yuan is very good with words. He knows it himself, and he uses it to his advantage. It manifests in well-placed praises, beautifully phrased compliments, and the way he talks to you in general. His voice has that natural, calming sound to it, and in any other circumstances, hearing him would make you feel at ease. He compliments your looks, your person, everything. If you’re occupied with something, he often says a few nice words about whatever it is. His praises are plenty: He’s kind of desperate for you to feel even neutrally about him, and that occasionally shines through.

˗ˏˋ ★ 7. Emotions II: How do they deal with the darling’s emotions? How are outbursts handled? How do they attempt to comfort the darling?

Jing Yuan isn’t afraid of emotions in the general sense. He has lived long enough to have experienced the entire human spectrum of feelings, and he’s more than skilled in regulating them, both in himself and in others. He’s empathetic by nature, and so, dealing with your feelings is simultaneously easy and arduous for him.

You don’t show him anger that often. It never gets a reaction out of him nor does it make him give you any leeway regarding anything, really. Yes, you sometimes scream at him and throw insults his way, but it never seems to faze him. The same thing goes with physically lashing out, as talked about, since he just holds you against his body until your little fit of rage passes. He doesn’t usually seem bothered by it, either: The startled animal analogy stands.

He does get much more receptive, however, when your emotions make themselves known in a more woeful manner, and only then does he attempt to genuinely console you. He knows you have a lot of feelings about the entire situation you have been put in, so here and there, he encourages you to vent them to him. His mind can suffer much more sorrow than yours, after all. He makes an effort to ask you how you’re faring quite often, and unlike most people, he genuinely expects an honest answer.

It’s not only the abduction and captivity themselves that you have a hard time processing internally. There’s also the factor that you used to be romantically interested in the man, at least until a certain point — and the sentiment is the complete opposite nowadays. You still haven’t quite taken the time for yourself to untangle the thoughts affiliated with the events that have taken place; the betrayal is a difficult topic to get into. Often, you prefer to let the anguish burst out when he isn’t around since seeing the person responsible for it all would only make it worse. In the middle of planning your escape and whatnot, you sometimes cry for a while, just to dull out the despair that ripples inside of you. It doesn’t help with anything, really; you’re aware that you’re wasting the precious hours of your time free of his presence, but you do tend to feel a little bit afterwards.

Even if you try to be discreet about it, there are bound to be instances when he happens to walk in on your weakest moments. Maybe he’s returning early from his work, and the first thing he seeks out, naturally, is you. However, when he opens the door to your room, he comes to find that you’re sitting on the edge of your bed, face hidden in your hands as your shoulders heave. It doesn’t take him more than a few seconds to figure out the situation, but he needs to spare a moment to consider what his next course of action should be. Soon enough, though, he slowly makes his way to your quivering form.

Your weight shifts as he sits down next to you on the bed. Of course, even if you didn’t acknowledge his presence, you noticed him entering the room. You guessed that he might try to offer comfort to you, and whether or not you wished for him to do so, you don’t reject his advances.

He wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you to him. He might open his mouth to either speak your name in a soft tone or just to let out a quiet sigh, but there are no words beyond that. Whatever it is that is the cause for your sadness, his main method is to calm you down with his physical presence, true to his nature. He coaxes you to lie down over his lap, to rest your head on his thigh. When he has you in that position, he starts running his fingers through your hair, careful and gentle. If you’re receptive, he may inquire about the reason behind your tears but if not, he’s going to continue lulling you into serenity until you tire yourself out enough to fall asleep.

Sleeping is a particularly effective way to get you in a better mood again, he has noticed. So if he catches you feeling down, his first suggestion is always to take a nap. He’s free to do so almost whenever you want, and even if you don’t accept the offer most of the time, he’s all the more elated when you do.

˗ˏˋ ★ 8. Thing to exploit: What are the darling’s best chances at escaping? Are there things the darling can use to their advantage? How can the darling make things easier for themselves?

The best things to take advantage of are mostly related to his trust in his methods and your perceived incapability of breaking through them. Compared to other possible candidates, he’s not the paranoid kind that would seal every single crack in the wall and chain all your limbs to the bed, so in that sense, you have a much better base for fleeing than with someone like, say, Sunday. The difficult part of it all is that although his precautions aren’t innumerable, they’re still, unfortunately, effective enough. As mentioned before, you can’t pick the lock on the door, and he installs iron bars on the window after your first attempt. Trying to shank him is off the table for obvious reasons. Despite not being aware of it yourself, you run out of options much faster than one would expect.

Under no circumstances are you allowed to have a phone; he took care of your previous one. That, and a few weeks after your disappearance, the efforts to locate you have been deemed unfruitful, and the search has halted. That’s all the more convenient from his perspective, but you’re quite devastated to hear the news. However, such is the life at the Xianzhou Luofu: So many people go missing yearly that they can only spare a limited amount of resources on finding a single person before they have to move over to the next case. The current theory on your vanishing is that you were ambushed by some Mara-struck beasts and failed to make it out of their clutches. Essentially, you have been ruled dead. That being said, the main take-away is that nobody is searching for you.

Your most notable chances at making it out are with outside help. Though, as stated, Jing Yuan doesn’t let you see anybody aside from him under normal circumstances, so it's not just any outside help. You’re going to need to get your hands dirty if you want to add people to your rapidly-shrunken social circle.

Namely, a certain healer is your best bet. You might think that Jing Yuan is never going to let you see anybody else aside from him, due to the fact that your location being leaked could cause a scandal that would quake the entire ship, but this is actually not the case. Namely, after your first escape attempt that ended up with the skin on your forearm being shredded, you’ll get to meet a strange Foxian man.

He shows up not long after Jing Yuan locked you in the spare room with your loosely bandaged arm and tells you that he ”has to take care of something”. That something ends up being calling a healer over since tending your wound seemed a tad bit too far out of his expertise. When the lock to your dark prison opens, instead of being faced with the familiar silhouette of your captor, there’s a shorter man standing beside the door frame. He has pale, peach-coloured hair and wears a red coat over the traditional Luofu attire. Most prominently, his eyes are closed, even though you sense that his attention is fully on you.

You don’t get to know his name, even though you make a point to ask him about it multiple times. You beg him to let somebody outside know that you’re alive, that you didn’t meet your end in the claws of the mara-struck beasts, but instead of helping you, he lets you know in a calm voice that ”he’s only here to take care of your injury, nothing more”. He doesn’t say it in a mean tone, though: It’s more of a statement. The ever-so-pleasant smile on his face is way too reminiscent to the one on your captor’s own that it makes you want to refuse the help altogether. However, looking at the sorry state of your arm, you swallow your protests and let him do his work.

At first, it’s no use trying to ask him for anything. You come to find quite quickly that the guy has an equally morally questionable streak as the General himself; or perhaps he’s just incredibly good at masking his intentions. If you attempt to chat with him while he stitches you up, he might entertain you if the topics are light-hearted. Anything else is a no-go, though — it seems that he has been given quite specific orders about what he can and what he cannot talk to you about. So, after he's done with his job, he leaves without having left you with anything useful.

It’s not the brightest idea, perhaps, but you figure that if you got hurt badly enough, he would have to come in again. There are multiple ways you could go about it: You could pretend to have twisted your ankle, or perhaps you could convince your captor that you have been suffering from a terrible headache. Then again, it’s likely that he would see through your act, so going the authentic route is unfortunately the better option. You could shove a handful of dirt in your mouth from the flowerbed when his attention is elsewhere. The fever you end up getting is admittedly a pain, but you succeed in your main objective nonetheless.

The healer is merciful enough to give you his name now that the two of you meet for the second time. Jiaoqiu, he calls himself. You get a strange vibe from the man: He doesn’t exactly wear his heart on his sleeve, and you have a difficult time making sense of his intentions. He doesn’t seem to be completely under Jing Yuan’s foot, however, and you decide to take advantage of that.

You could offer him something in return or conduct a plan that would guarantee that the escape would never be tracked to him. You must have quite a lot of wit to pull it off, but Jiaoqiu might very well provide you with some vital knowledge on how you could concoct a certain type of drug from the plants in the garden. Be careful, though, because discerning whether the glint in those squinted eyes of his is of genuine benevolence or something downright malicious is a tough task. It would be a shame if your escape would end up with you in a different house but under the exact same circumstances.

˗ˏˋ ★ 9. Further notes: Is there anything that sets them apart from the other yanderes? What unique qualities do they possess?

Firstly, your will to fight is much weaker than with other yanderes because Jing Yuan is just so… nice. That's not to excuse any of his actions, but he’s just a remarkably pleasant person to be around aside from all the immoral things he puts you through. He’s rarely rough except for when a situation strictly requires it, and he’s never anything but kind when it comes to you. Don’t be fooled, he can and will be firm when need be, but it’s not his usual way of going about things. He likes you most when you’re as happy as you can be, considering the context.

It doesn’t mean you won’t still rebel against him, though — the occasions where he has to take something away from you because you’ve been planning an escape are practically a weekly event. That, and you still try to throw hands at him sometimes. You're lucky he finds it sort of cute, but it's really not something he enjoys.

So, he comes up with a plan to maybe redirect your thoughts from the schemes and struggling. Specifically, he will present you with a deal: Alright, he will let you go, but it’s under a singular condition. You’ll have to beat him in a swordfight.

You look at him like he has lost the last bits of his sanity. Surely, he must know it himself that you’re not going to bite on such obvious bait: There’s no way that you would ever be able to best him in any form of martial arts, be it a sword or a glaive or a bow or anything in between. You wonder if he’s poking fun at you, mocking you for being so weak that you can’t even put up a proper fight against him. That would be the most obvious answer, but the expression on his face tells a different story; there seems to be something more to the suggestion.

You haven’t held a sword more than a few times in your entire life, and truth to be told, you didn’t expect the next instance to be when you’re about to duel the General himself for your compromised freedom. Nevertheless, that’s where you find yourself: You’re standing a short distance away from him in the yard, with a much-too-heavy blade in your trembling hands, while he’s holding his weapon of choice with accustomed composure. He teaches you the etiquette, instructing you to point your sword at him and greet your opponent. You roll your eyes, doing just that, and he mirrors your movements before the duel commences.

You barely manage to register the shape of him as he lunges towards you in a fraction of a millisecond. In the blink of an eye, a deafening sound of two pieces of metal clashing together pierces the air, and the next thing you know is that your sword is sticking out of his fence, the blade having sunk deep into the stone, horizontal. You can’t help the way your jaw falls slack as you stare at the sight. You look at the fence, then at your hands, then back at the fence. You foolishly thought that he would maybe go a little easier on you since you and him both are very much aware that you’re no swordswoman, but apparently, that was not the case.

He lets out a soft chuckle. ”Hm, looks like I have come out victorious”, he utters through poorly masked amusement. You wonder how quick you would have to be to punch the smile off of his face.

NS-FW

˗ˏˋ ★ 10. General look: How does their sexuality manifest? What does sex mean to them? How horny are they?

Yes, he is a somewhat sexual person. As mentioned, bodily closeness is a big thing to him, so it's only logical that it extends to this side of things as well. He sees sex as a tool to use for bonding, something to show affection with: Naturally, you’re going to be the target of said form of love.

Outwardly, he keeps his urges reserved. It wouldn’t be becoming of somebody in his position to be very open about their sexual side, after all. He does take care of himself in private, though. He has quite a high drive — or, perhaps it would be better to talk about a need for physical intimacy. He doesn’t like to talk about ”urges” himself since it makes the matter sound like it’s something uncontrollable. He’s adept at keeping himself in check, and so he doesn’t indulge in sexual pleasures as much as one would expect. Yes, he does turn to his hand a few days a week, but nothing beyond that.

He wouldn’t describe sex as being exhilarating to him, either. He doesn’t think of it as dirty or something to be ashamed about at all. It’s not about taking care of needs for him; it’s for two people to enjoy each other’s presence. He’s a bit conservative like that, but can you blame him? He has been alive for multiple centuries, so for him to crave something beyond a few strokes and a quick release is more than fair.

Don’t get him wrong: He has his fair share of experience when it comes to sexual activities. He didn’t spend all his years celibate, so he wouldn’t call the wonder of the female body a mystery to him. He’s quite receptive when it comes to how you react to his touch in general, and he seems to know just where to prod and press to get you to melt under his hands. You’ll soon come to know that there’s another way for him to benefit from that particular skill.

˗ˏˋ ★ 11. Limit: How long does it take for them to have the darling? What is the first time like? Do they care about the darling’s willingness?

He would really prefer it if you came to him willingly. Taking away one’s sexual autonomy is one of the cruelest things that he thinks could be done to a person, and so, you’re given a generous amount of time before he gives in to his feelings. It does depend on your behaviour, somewhat: If you’re particularly averse to the idea of him touching you even in completely innocent ways, his patience can stretch for months on end — he has got time. Then, on the other hand, if you don’t seem to mind him having his hands on you, the period might be shorter.

When it does happen, though, he won’t be callous or forceful (in a sense) about it. On a random Monday, as he serves you your breakfast, he will inform you about a certain plan this week. Specifically, he lets you know that ���sometime during this week, he’s going to have you”. Of course, you need to go over the sentence a few times in your mind before you even begin to comprehend the meaning behind it. Your eyes widen, and you shake your head in defiance, telling him that ”there’s no way you’ll do something like that”. However, by this point, your fate is pretty much set in stone, and he won’t relent even if you were to throw a fit or two. Besides, he’s being lenient: He assures you that he isn’t going to just take you without a warning — you get to decide when it happens, but it has to be in the following six days, or even today, if you’re feeling like it!

So, needless to say, you make him hold out until the very last hours, all the way to when the last rays of daylight disappear behind the horizon. You have been nothing but anxious the entire week, he has noted. You’re much jumpier than usual, and you have been evading his touches to the best of your ability, no matter how soft he has been. That, and he has had to watch out for your escape attempts even more than normal. You really aren’t fond of the idea, he thinks to himself as he watches you sit in the dark in the corner of your room, knees pressed against your chest. You’re completely motionless and rigid, down to your eyes: You’re looking directly at his form in the doorway, not even blinking in case that would open a window for him to reach for you.

He attempts to talk to you. The task proves to be difficult, however, as you only continue ogling at him in silence, flinching at even the tiniest movements he makes. Perhaps it would’ve been better not to give you a heads-up about the sex after all, he thinks: You wouldn’t have had time to build up the fear as much. Your head must be swimming with all kinds of horror scenarios about what he’s going to do to you, he thinks. He sighs out loud.

Your jaw clenches as he crouches down in front of you. You have made yourself as small as possible, and he feels like he’s approaching a flightless bird. Still, you don’t kick at him when he rests his hand over your leg and begins stroking the skin up and down in a soothing manner. You do try to pull away from him, but considering your position, you’re unable to make a difference. ”You don’t have to be scared”, he tells you, gently pulling on your ankle, coaxing you out of your hiding place.

You’re not about to tolerate his advances even a second longer. So, you fling your hand out, land a mean slap on his wrist, and fight yourself out of his grasp. You yell words of defiance at him, standing up from your spot with shaky legs before trying to leap past his form. He's quick to catch you by your thigh, however, and you nearly fall over. Instead of making your escape, you land in his firm grasp.

If there’s one thing that you have learned while in captivity, it’s that Jing Yuan’s grip is inescapable. No matter how you flail, he catches both of your arms in one hand and lifts you in the air with little to no effort. By this point, you’ve resorted to pleading with him to give you a few more minutes to prepare. More concerningly, though, you start spewing out things like ”please don’t hurt me” and ”I’ll be good, I promise I’ll be good”. Goodness, it does wound him a little bit that you would think such things of him. Of course he isn’t going to hurt you. What he’s about to do is the farthest thing from that.

You’re laid on the bed. He frees your arms for a second to adjust his own position, but he snatches them right back before you can even think of clawing at him. You’re hardly able to move at all as he presses his weight down on you, effectively pinning your form in place on the mattress. He leans down so that you’re face-to-face, his open hair coming to frame the sides of your head. Still smiling, he's looking down at you with a tiniest amount of pity in his gaze. In contrast, your teeth are clenched, and you’re breathing as heavy as if you had just finished a run, but he really can't find it in himself to care that much.

He lets you know that there’s no escaping your fate, but that he’s open to suggestions if there’s anything you would like to do. There are a few options: You could start by making out, or he could go straight to prepping your downstairs for him. He could massage you, even. It could get the blood flowing, he muses. He talks to you in such a soft tone that you wonder if you’re understanding his words correctly. Maybe you would prefer it if you just kissed for a little while beforehand? Would you like him to eat you out, perhaps?

You're unable to get a single word out. He waits for you to take courage for a moment, caressing along your neck and chest area with his free hand. He means for it to be calming, but the effect is the exact opposite as tears fill your waterline. He looks down at you with a sympathetic expression, swiping the pad of his thumb under your eyes, and then he leans in to kiss you. Unlike the brute strength he uses to hold you down, his lips move tenderly against yours; it's a maddening, incomprehensible contrast. Your sobs are swallowed by his mouth.

You feel him start stripping you down. There's not much you can do when he pulls your shirt up, when his touch lands on one of your breasts. His hand is large enough to fit the entire mound in its grasp. Then, his fingers creep down your stomach, and in the next moment, they slip down the front of your bottom.

Nonetheless, no matter what kind of foreplay you chose (or if he chose for you), you’re going to eventually end up under him, completely bare, chest pressed against the mattress with your lower half in the air. His hand is heavy on both of your wrists, pinning you down with the force of a thousand boulders. You can feel his naked body flush against your back, and something prodding between your thighs. He has prepped you thoroughly, but no amount of stretching in one night could ready you for what is about to come.

You know there’s no stopping him now. Not that you would've been able to reason with him before, but as the main course is now becoming reality, the dread in your stomach is boiling over. You don’t know what you should think: You have been sniffling the entire time, you have struggled as hard as you could, but he’s still being so damn gentle with you that your brain is having a hard time keeping up. You understand, at a conceptual level, that you're about to be violated to a point of no return, but at the same time, his touch is so tender. No matter how you will your body to resist, you're unable to summon the strength to find his ministrations repulsive. His strokes are like a sedative seeping into your skin.

His cock nudges against the entrance of your cunt. Your eyes widen, and every muscle in your body tenses. His grip on your wrists tightens.

It’s big. It’s really big. You feel the shape of it against your inner thighs. There’s no way something like that is going to fit into you just like that: It would be like ramming a log into a keyhole. Fortunately, he himself is aware of the very same fact: He knows he’s generously sized when it comes to his dick, and he’s also conscious of the fact that the first time is probably going to sting a bit. For you, not for him. Furthermore, he feels the way the muscles in your lower abdomen have gone completely rigid, and there’s no way he can get inside you like that.

His exhales tickle your ear as he leans into the side of your face. His warm hand snakes around your waist and presses just above the curve of your cunt. ”Relax these here for me”, he rubs his fingers against the area over your pubic bone. When you don’t do as you’re told, he forces your chest even lower with his body weight, deepening the arch your back has formed. He’s as patient as ever, but his breaths are the tiniest bit laboured. You loathe the implication.

”And these ones as well”, he instructs as the pads of his fingers glide over the inner sides of your hipbones. You can’t help but shudder when you feel his cock twitch against your thighs. ”Don’t fight it… There you go”. His hand is large enough to rest over your entire lower abdomen. It’s searing hot against your skin.

You hear a container pop open. In the next moment, his lube-clad fingers slip inside your cunt as a final act of mercy. You whimper at the sensation, clenching your fingers into wrists, trying to twist your arms free, but it's no use. He hardly pays any mind to your struggling at all, spreading the slick around with care, and after his hand withdraws, you hear the squelching sound of him giving the same treatment to his cock. Then, you feel his tip prod at your entrance.

You and him both know that it’s not going to be pleasant the first time around. His chest rests heavy against your back, moulding you into a horribly pliant position. He moves your hair out from in front of your ear. His voice is no louder than a whisper as he gives you a final warning: ”It’s going to hurt a bit. You’ll be alright”. His entire arm wraps around your ribcage, effectively locking you in place. ”3… 2… 1…”, and he pushes in.

Oh, it’s excruciating. You let out a shriek so loud that it could be heard in the entire Luofu if he didn’t shove your face against the pillow just in time. You feel like your bottom half is being skewered on a pole: He went in all the way with a single shove. The agony you're in couldn't possibly be put into words: It's searing hot, agonizing pressure that reaches all the way up to your stomach. Still, even though he feels how your little cunt is spasming in place, doing its hardest to push the intrusion out, he keeps you firmly pressed against him, preventing you from allowing yourself even the slightest bit of slack. "It's better this way", he thinks. It's like tearing of a band aid: It's only going to hurt more if you go slow.

He swipes his fingers around where his cock is stretching your cunt and brings his hand up to his eyes. You let out a wretched sob, and in a voice no louder than a whisper, you ask him if you're bleeding. ”A little”, he gives a scant answer to your question in a rather nonchalant tone. He doesn’t seem too bothered by the pain he has caused, though, because after the few minutes of adjustment time he grants you, he starts thrusting into you at a pace that conveys nothing short of the frustration he has been building up for the past however long it took for him to have you. In an act of clemency, his hand slithers in between your legs to roll your clit in between his fingers as he kisses the side of your face. You can only clench your hands into fists and take what he has in store for your poor body.

˗ˏˋ ★ 12. Preferences: What is sex with them like? What sort of stuff are they into? What kind of kinks do they have?

He likes traditional sex the most. You know, the two of you, on a plush bed, bodies pressed against each other, warm and full of passion. He prefers sexual activities to be loving and emotionally fulfilling above all, hence the partiality. Though, that’s not to say that he doesn’t indulge himself in certain tools in the bedroom in favour of spicing the act up a little.

Bondage (shibari in particular)

Jing Yuan isn’t particularly interested in trying to pleasure you with anything other than his own body, but there is one exception to that: Rope. Red rope, specifically. He enjoys restraining you with his own strength, yes, and he does that a lot of the time, but tying you down is, admittedly, a lot more effective. He can enjoy himself a little more that way, too, since he doesn’t have to worry about you trying to struggle yourself out of his grasp.

He just… brings it up one time when your form is already settled on the sheets. He stands at the foot of the bed with a hank of scarlet material draped over one of his forearms. Smirking down at your shivering body, he whips the rope in his hands, testing its durability in an impish manner. He twirls it around his fingers, relishing the way your expression portrays the swarm of thoughts rushing around in your mind. He can’t help but find it cute; the way your lip quivers and how your legs tremble with anticipation for what is to come.

He knows all kinds of things when it comes to the art of bondage. He has had plenty of time to acquire experience in this field: Knots, links, he can do it all. You come to understand his expertise the second he gets to work on your body. You’re going to be bound from head to toe, clad in intricate patterns he weaves with his hands. He’s so thorough with it that you’re not even able to do as much as wiggle your fingers when he’s done. He doesn’t have a favourite routine, either! Everything goes — criss-cross over your body, twisting you in all kinds of bizarre positions (hopefully you’re flexible), even crotchrope. The crotchrope is a common occurrence, in fact. Not only does he love how it looks on you, but he often makes a knot on it right where the rope presses against your cunt. He can only marvel at the way it rubs against your clit when you move even the slightest bit.

He will absolutely have you suspended from the ceiling while tied, too. It allows him to see you as you are, without all the defenses you have put up against him, in all of your beauty and complexity. Of course, the main objective is to either fuck, finger you or eat you out, but sometimes, he can’t help but enjoy the mere sight of you. It’s adorable, really, how you’re all helpless in your bindings, whining at him to let you down, how ”the rope is chafing against your…”. Little do you know that that sentence alone is enough to spring his cock up like stepping on a rake. He only coos at you before sliding his finger underneath the string traveling between your thighs before pulling it taut.

Occasionally, when he has time, he might just hang you from the ceiling in his work room. You’re dangling there, all still and pretty while he takes care of his more boring responsibilities. Your bare nipples are pebbled from being exposed to the cool air, and your cunt is glistening from the relentless stimulation that the bindings are subjecting it to. With every tiny movement you make, the knots rub directly against your clit. He watches the show with keen eyes and merely chuckles at your misery.

Oral

It’s easily his favourite. The second is dicking you down, naturally, but there’s just something about eating you out that gets him going like nothing else. It’s intimate, it feels incredible, and his technique is impeccable. He devours you like he’s starving, and you should know that it’s not going to be only one round when he truly gets excited.

It could be while you’re tied up, or he could simply hold your hips down when he goes to town on your bits. His hands are firmly slotted around your upper thighs, keeping you flush against his face. The tip of his nose nudges your clit with every lick, his tongue is rubbing against your walls, and no matter how you tug at his hair or tell him to stop, he won’t. He occasionally dips down to your other hole as well. He knows it can be incredibly stimulating down there, too, so what kind of a person would he be to not take advantage of that?

He gets creative with the positions, too. It could be the classic one where you’re lying down on your back and he’s on all fours in between your legs. Or, then it could be something completely different like folding you in half with your entire lower body off the bed, or having you basically sit on his face as he comes up from underneath you while you’re suspended in the air, or it could be him standing up, holding your weight up by himself, your cunt in his face and his crotch against yours.

Oh, and he does like 69. He’s alright with it no matter how: You on the bottom, him at the bottom, the two of you sideways, in the air, anything goes. It’s a known fact by now that his junk is big, so it’s a bit of an effort on your end to even get him into his mouth without your jaw locking. He won’t fuck your face, ever, partially for that very reason — it would not be very sexy to have to explain what went down to Jiaoqiu when he would have to come in to take care of the aftermath— and on the other hand, he doubts it would be very pleasant for you either way. His goal is not to have you choke, obviously. Though, be prepared to take at least a little bit of him past your lips: 69 is a two-person activity after all.

He likes to stick his fingers in you in the meantime, too. Cunt, ass, or both at the same time. It gets a bit exasperating after a while, though, because he has you coming in a matter of minutes meanwhile he’s not even close to his own climax. He tells you that ”it’s quite alright, he wasn’t done with you anyway”, and despite his ”well-meaning” words, you only feel dread. Getting him to finish proves to be a more arduous task than you figured it would be. That, and he won’t stop eating your cunt before you succeed in getting him to come, too. He promises that he won’t overstimulate you too much — he can keep a little break in between — but you’ll still be a complete mess when he finally gets his climax. And then you’ll take his cock. Good luck.

Praise, voice, and words

Oh, his voice. His tone is pleasant: It’s calm, it’s comforting, and he always seems to know just what to say. Before the sour side of events took place, you would've been fine with listening to him talk about his day, what’s going on at the Seat of Divine Foresight, whatever, for hours on end. His voice has that certain ASMR quality to it, almost. However, you just wish he didn’t have to speak such filth directly in your ear while his dick is splitting you in half.

It’s never, ever, mean, though. He would rather set you free than ever degrade you. Sex is supposed to make you feel good about yourself, so what purpose would that serve? That being said, the praises he utters are both genuine and so exaggerated that they nearly make you roll your eyes. ”You look ravishing like this”, he whispers against your temple as you’re tied up from head to toe, his fingers knuckle-deep in your cunt. ”This here”, he continues, circling your clit with the pad of his thumb, ”is especially mesmerizing”. Not only does he punctuate the sentence with a deep curl of his digits, but the way he so closely scrutinizes your bits is enough to inadvertently humiliate you beyond repair. You feel his gaze on you, and with every soft hum he lets out of his mouth, you get closer to your climax.

Even though he doesn’t mean it, his praise occasionally comes off as belittling. You’re lodged under him, speared down on his dick, and he has the audacity to open his mouth. ”You’re doing so well, just bear with it for a little”, or ”there’s only a little blood, you’re alright, you’re alright”, or ”you’re being so good for me, darling”. It’s all the while you’re struggling to even breathe with how deep he is inside you. He loves pet names, too: His personal favourite is, ironically, the aforementioned darling, but the list also includes names like good girl, babybird and pretty little thing. They all have a bit of a nasty ring to them, considering your circumstances, but nothing you say will stop him from using them.

He also tries to get you to communicate during the deed. It’s a common thing for him to ask you how something feels, if you’re feeling good, if you’re hurting anywhere. The concern he shows is genuine, unlike with someone like, say, Aventurine: He’s open to criticism when it comes to his performance. If his fingers are prodding at a bad spot (which they rarely are), then by all means, let him know and he’ll fix it. Oh, ”the ropes are digging into your wrists”? Give him a second, he’ll loosen them up a bit. "Too deep"? Well, there's not much he can do about that one, sorry.

Lastly, he has a very true-to-him thing he does in the act that always manages to flip your stomach upside down. While rocking into you and twirling your clit in between his fingers, he’s coaxing you closer and closer to your climax. No matter how hard you try to fight the feeling, no matter how you try to distance yourself, when he presses his lips against your temple and hums out a deep, low note directly into your ear, you’re done for. He finishes the action by planting a kiss on the lobe, and just like that, your cunt constricts around him, and your stiff body goes completely slack under his touch. He has you right where he likes you the best.

Manhandling and size kink

He likes to claim that it’s unintentional. It’s not — he’s doing it fully on purpose, and it’s one of his favourite parts of the act. If he wanted to, he could fold you into every position imaginable, and you would have zero say in the matter. Compared to your strength, he’s like a damn Aurumaton. A single hand of his is large enough to clasp around both of your ankles; not to mention your wrists. You weigh practically nothing to him, and so he’s able to hold you against the wall, in the air, however he likes. There’s also the aspect that, technically speaking, he could snap your spine in a single movement if he so desired. He’s a large man: No matter how tall you are, he’s taller, and no matter how strong you are, he’s stronger. He’s faster, he’s more agile, he’s better than you in every single physical way. You can’t really blame him for using those qualities to his advantage.

That being said, he gets kicks from seeing you struggle. It’s not something he wants to admit out loud since it would emphasize the implication that it’s against your will, but he does enjoy it nonetheless. He has a clear dominant streak to him, and it manifests in being in complete control of you. He gets to be in charge of the pace, he gets to determine when you're going to come, and he gets to lay his claim on you in this incredibly primitive way. The sheer thought of it makes him hard.

It’s kind of a protective instinct, too. More often than not, when he’s dicking you down, his body encases yours, his warmth seeps into your skin, and there’s no escaping his embrace. It’s suffocating, but at the same time, you do feel secure in a sick, twisted way, almost. It’s like being contained in a glass box where nothing can get to you, but you can’t get out, either. And the box also makes you come, whatever that implies.

Then, there’s his size. And the talk is not only about his stature here. He likes how small you are compared to him. It’s so easy to pick you up, to throw you over his shoulder, to carry you to the bed and give you a thorough fucking when you’re being disagreeable or if he just wants some. He finds the size difference quite arousing in a strange way: He doesn't know how to describe the feeling out loud, but seeing such a pretty little thing like you under him, how one of his hands is large enough to grab both of your breasts, how even a single finger of his enough to give your cunt a considerable, stretch... Oh my. Can you really blame him?

Lastly, occasionally, although he doesn’t mean it, he leaves marks on you. Namely, bruises are somewhat common, and there are very few times when he doesn’t at least leave red patches on your skin from where he has been holding you. He swears it isn’t his intention, but you start to doubt his credibility when he doesn’t make any efforts to tone it down. Your hips, thighs, waist and wrists are the usual spots of interest, but he can't get himself to worry about the imprints too much since he's the only one that gets to see them, anyway. Ah, but he understands that they must ache a bit. Come here, he'll massage them all better. He promises not to go as hard the next time (he doesn’t even believe his own words).

Insane mouth game

Simply put, he's a slut for tongue action. Whether it be a good, long make-out session or just a chaste peck on your cheek, or even his face in between your legs, he's all in. It's how he shows that he cares, among all the other things he does to you. It doesn't matter what has gone down that day, bedroom or otherwise, he's sure to have his lips on you in one way or another. In his mind, there's nothing more intimate than giving your partner pleasure with only your mouth, and you'll come to see that he lives by that statement.

It turns out that the Aeons blessed him with quite a long tongue, and he couldn't be happier about it when it comes to you. It reaches all the way deep into your cunt when he's devouring your lower half, and when he's kissing you, you can feel the thing in the back of your throat. He isn't particularly shy when it comes to mouth action in any way, and so, his kisses are wet, sloppy and incredibly intense. When he goes down on you, he sucks, he licks, and truly eats you out. Other things he enjoys doing is licking his way down your body, leaving streaks of saliva along the juncture of your neck, the valley between your breasts, your inner thighs, your feet, even. He plants open-mouthed kisses on all of your most sensitive spots, and the way you shiver and whimper from the feeling is truly and utterly exquisite in his eyes.

Your neck is quite often the target of his actions. It doesn't even have to lead to sex, either. Sometimes, when you're sitting on his lap, he likes to cover your entire upper body in his love. Despite your struggling, his lips are flush against your shoulders, your neck, your collarbones, leaving traces of spit all over your skin until you feel all gross. He tends to leave a good few marks in his wake, too: Bright red hickeys in various sizes litter your form, and even when you comment on them looking vulgar, he does very little to change his ways.

Then, the proper kisses. The endless stream of pecks on your lips, his tongue in your mouth, his saliva mixing with yours. It's like he's attempting to breathe you in with how his lips mould against yours. You can't refuse his affections, either: Usually, he tilts your head up by your chin to kiss you, but if you pull away, he's going to grab your jaw and squish your cheeks together. The outcome is always the same. He does it numerous times a day, too.

˗ˏˋ ★ 13. Punishment: What do their sexual punishments look like? What methods do they prefer?

Jing Yuan prefers not to punish you sexually. It goes against everything he believes in when it comes to the act itself, and he refuses to weaponize something like that.

That doesn’t mean he won’t still do it, though. He swears up and down that oh, he would never, but here we are. If you’ve been doing something you shouldn’t have, he won’t immediately toss you on the bed and fuck you stupid like a lot of other yanderes would, but you’ll come to see later that day that, no, he didn’t just forget about it. When the evening comes rolling around, his irritation is nearly palpable. Usually, he would give you at least some warning before the deed would commence, but now, he just picks you up bridal style and carries you to his bedroom.

He doesn’t prep you as well as he would any other time. The stretch is even more painful, but he doesn’t seem to give two fucks about how you slap his arm and try to tell him that it hurts. He tells you to bear with it, unlike the gentle approach you’re used to. His grip on you is harsher, too, but despite it all, his attitude hasn’t changed much. His tone is still soft, but it doesn’t translate to how roughly he’s fucking into you. Surprisingly enough, he never ties you down when he’s making a point, but it doesn’t make the experience any more survivable. By the time he’s done, you will have been reduced to a barely coherent mess.

Uncharacteristically, he tends to overstimulate you when he’s mad, too. Usually, as mentioned, he will give you breaks in between your orgasms, but not this time around. Instead, no matter how fast or slow you have come, he just keeps going without missing a single beat. You may struggle all you want, it’s only going to make him go harder. You complain that ”it’s too intense”, and to "please give you a break", but with a soft, warm tone, he tells you that it’s exactly how it’s meant to be. He makes an effort to spread your labia to get his finger directly on your clit, rubbing his pad against it in a manner that's nothing short of torturous. His touch is directly on your nerves, and the overload of simultaneous pain and pleasure is so agonizing that you wish you could pass out right then and there. Sometimes, he won't stop until you have done just that.

So, punishment sex with him (again, he doesn’t like to describe it that way himself) is basically just marathon sex. Plenty of rounds, all lasting a considerable amount of time, and he twists you around like a ragdoll. Even if you start crying halfway through, he won’t care much. Most he will do is use the back of his finger to wipe your tears away, but that’s all while he’s thrusting into your tired insides. Yes, he does try to make it feel nice to you, sort of — he focuses on your clit, your nipples, kissing the back of your neck and along your spine, stroking your thighs, but it’s still a harsh ride.

Seeing the effect these sessions have on you, it becomes a bit of a habit for him to fuck his vexations out on you. That includes when you’re in a mood, too. It’s like a tool to calm you down: After a few orgasms, you have got some feel-good hormones running in your veins, and you’re much more compliant. Less insults, less sulking, less rejecting his touches. He makes sure to praise you when you’re this way, too.

One thing that he does when he’s slightly irked by your behaviour and doesn't really have the time for the full thing is have you sit down on his cock while he works. Obviously, your cunt is doing its absolute best trying to accommodate his size, and even with zero movement, it’s an entire achievement to stay still for the hour or so that it takes for him to cave in. He doesn’t let you shift even the slightest bit, not even to adjust your position in his lap. One of his arms is tightly secured around your waist, preventing you from squirming. He himself can’t even focus on what he’s doing: Truth to be told, he has to read the same block of text at least three times to understand what it says. Each time he exhales, your cunt squeezes around his cock, and as much as he wants to make a point with it all, he himself is about to go insane. It won’t be long until he takes care of both of you.

˗ˏˋ ★ 14. Aftermath: What does their aftercare look like? Is there any?

He’s very thorough about it. Sex with him can be emotionally intense, especially when it comes to the long sessions, so he puts a lot of importance on taking care of you after he’s done.

The very first thing he does is ask you how you’re feeling. It comes before anything else — you haven’t even come down from your last climax of the night, and he has to repeat the question for you to make sense of what he’s saying. More often than not, you’re a bit offended by the gesture, spitting out a weary yet snarky response before rolling over to your side and turning your back to him. While he isn’t particularly pleased by you reacting like that, he understands that it’s better than he could hope for, taking the context into account.

Both of you are all sweaty afterwards, but he prefers not to take you to the bath immediately. He likes to bask in the afterglow, enjoying your (reluctant) presence while he slowly lets his breathing become even and his heartbeat settle. Cuddling during these times is a must-do for him, and it doesn’t matter what kind of a state you’re in, he does it regardless. You do have input when it comes to choosing the position, though: If you’re in a more of a grumpy mood afterwards, he just lets you rest your head on his bicep, sort of half-hugging you on one side. Then again, if you’re a crying mess, he takes you into full embrace, tucking your head under his chin and pressing your naked chest against his own. It’s like hiding you from the world, albeit it feels terribly suffocating at the same time.

He enjoys pillow talk immensely, but more often than not, you’re not up for it, so it usually ends up staying in his head. Though, if you are receptive, he could chat to you in a hushed tone for hours on end. It’s about nothing in particular: Work, life, you, him, whatever. He also spills you a considerable amount of praise.

Falling asleep after the act would be a preferable outcome for him — you know the General well enough by now that he likes his rest a bit more than he would like to admit, but if you’re not drowsy, he won’t nap either. Since sex with him usually takes place in the late hours of the evening, you’re often quite sleepy in the aftermath, but if that’s not the case, he thinks of something to keep you occupied. For example, he might give you a back rub; the usual. Whatever spot is hurting, he makes sure to give extra attention to it. If you’re complaining about aches, he may get up in favour of getting you a painkiller and some water. This is also the only way to get him to leave the room if you want some time for yourself.

He tends to be in an excellent mood after sex, so if there’s something you’ve been meaning to ask for, this is the best time for it. Obviously, if it’s something completely outrageous, he’s going to gently shake his head and refuse while stroking his knuckles against your cheekbone, but if it’s nothing that crazy, he may very well give in to it. The things that you can get this way are stuff like certain snacks, more time outside, less time with him, and so on. In addition, he’ll be utterly elated if your request involves him in a positive way, and so, you have a chance to pull a kind of a double-exploit tactic here. The man isn’t easy to manipulate, but he does have some of that golden retriever energy in him, and there’s not much he can do about himself in that regard. Be careful, though, because if you’re too nice, you might accidentally set yourself up for round two.

˗ˏˋ ★ 15. Further notes: Is there anything that sets them apart from the other yanderes sex-wise? Are there any unique aspects to them?

Surprisingly enough, with Jing Yuan as your captor, you get to speak your mind when it comes to sex. While there are some basics that he won’t let go of, like tying you and him being in control, you’re allowed to express your opinion on things like positions and what type of foreplay you want. He listens to your requests and takes them into account to a surprising degree. The reasoning behind it is that you being vocal about your preferences implies that you get at least some enjoyment out of the sex, which is a part of his goal, so he’s not opposed to your thoughts.

He sometimes asks you about them directly, too. ”Would you like to be eaten out today? Or does fingering sound like a more preferable plan?” he might inquire. Don’t be fooled, though: It’s either-or, and refusing the entire thing is never an option, but you still get to choose between the two. It’s better than nothing. When it comes to positions, he’s open to pretty much anything — even you riding him if you asked really nicely. He’s going to be in full control the entire time, however: It’s more him lifting you up and down on his dick than you actually doing any of the work. Most likely, the request to ride him would be to make the stretch less painful, but you come to find that you being on top brought very little help to that problem.

Moreover, if you’d like, you could also get him to explore new horizons when it comes to his sexual preferences. He doesn’t really favour things like toys when it comes to the bedroom, but if you were to suggest them? That’s an entirely different story. He raises his brows, pondering the idea for a bit before shrugging and wondering why not. Sure, he can get a vibrator or a few for the two of you to use. Hm, ”for you to use on your own”? Ha-ha, nice try.

On a completely different note, Jing Yuan likes to make you feel things, for the lack of a better word. Not just any things, though — specifically, he likes it when you squirm and shiver. He has noticed that a very effective way to get you to tingle is whispering right against your ear or even licking the inside. He does it in the most unexpected moments, too: You may be sitting on your bed, reading a book or something, and he gets in behind you before blowing a puff of air directly in your ear canal. Obviously, you slap your palm over the side of your face and snap at him, asking him ”what the hell does he think he’s doing”, but he just gives a soft chuckle as a response. He has a bit of a mischievous streak to him in that way.

By that point, you know it’s going to be go-time soon enough; this is just some foreplay for the actual foreplay. If he’s feeling even friskier, he might start nibbling on your earlobe and uttering uncensored filth against your temple. Not only does it make you embarrassed, but you’ll know exactly what he’s going to do to you that night.

A/N

Taglist, yippee! Comment or send an ask to be added, either one is alright ✧｡٩(ˊᗜˋ )و✧*｡

@yourfavouritecitizen @loserworld @lem-hhn

[cottonlemonade]

Fake Dating [part 2]

word count: 1865 || avg. reading time: 8 mins.

pairing: post-time skip!Asahi x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff, slice of life, pining

warning: spoilers

request: fluffy-spicy, fake dating with crush

[part 1]

Stupid stupid stupid stupid.

Asahi repeatedly flopped his head into the pillow of his childhood bed he had long since outgrown.

How difficult was it to say, “No, actually, I think you’re really beautiful and I’d love to have some coffee with you. Very much as a date!” Maybe he should text you. To clear the air. But then again, what if you really only wanted to be friends, and he’d ruin his chance of even just talking to you.

Stupid stupid stupid.

While he marinated a little more in his self-pity, his phone buzzed, and for a ridiculous second, he thought it was you until he realized you didn’t have his number yet. Craning his neck to the side, he grabbed his phone and squinted at the screen in the darkness. It was a new picture from Nishinoya, lounging on a beach somewhere. Asahi gave the picture a thumbs up and wanted to put his phone back onto the nightstand when it buzzed again.

The new text said “Hey, I wanna show you something, pick up when I call!” and Asahi had barely time to finish reading when his friend’s call ID filled the screen. Tired and only about an eighth of the way through his wallowing, Asahi picked up and was met with the bright, tan smile of Nishinoya.

“Buenos tardes, mi amigo!”, he called, “That’s how they say Good afternoon, my friend here in Peru.”

The small window in the bottom corner of his phone showed that only one of Asahi’s eyes was visible. The other was still hidden in his pillow.

“Hey.”, he said, muffled, “What’s up?”

“What’s up with me? What’s up with you! Were you sleeping or something?”

“It’s 3 a.m.”

“So?”

“Nevermind. What did you wanna show me?”

Nishinoya tapped the screen and turned the camera, doing a slow swipe of the landscape.

“Look at this!”

Finally turning his whole face to the phone, Asahi only vaguely made out the stunning white beach with the strikingly blue water that sparkled invitingly in the midday sun - his glasses still sat on the side of the sink in the bathroom, if he remembered correctly - but he got the gist. Maybe he should ask him for advice. Nishinoya had always been self-assured and strangely wise in his own way.

“Nishi,”, he began while the other was still very busy panning the camera around, “I met this girl today and-“

There was a commotion on the other side and the video began to violently shake as if someone was fumbling to catch the phone. The microphone cracked a few times and in between he heard a curse, then finally Nishinoya’s face filled the screen again.

“Proceed.”, he said calmly, and Asahi dropped his head back onto the pillow, half of his face once again hidden in embarrassment.

As he recounted the events of the evening, Nishinoya reacted as Asahi expected - with snorts of laughter and knowing eyebrow wiggling.

“Did you text her already?”

“No, not yet.”

“Well, don’t do that waiting three-day thing. I have come to learn women don’t actually like that.” He absentmindedly rubbed his left cheek as if remembering a slap, then snapped out of it with a small shake of his head and said, “Text her now.”

“It’s 3 a.m.”, Asahi reminded him.

“So?”

“What would I even write?”

“Something like, “Hey, beautiful, this is Asahi, the guy from earlier. Just wanted to tell you that I don’t think we should fake date. How does marriage sound to you?” But you can paraphrase.”

He did paraphrase, then hovered over the send button for a few seconds before pressing it.

Nishinoya, who saw him typing in silence, asked excitedly, “What did you write?”

“Hello, this is Asahi, the guy from earlier, and here is my number.”

“Ugh, come on! I gave you a foolproof template! Fine. Once she texts back, you’re gonna tell her.”, seemingly content with having gotten his point across, he switched topics, “How is Miyagi? Did you see the coach?”

“I did. He told me to send his regards to you. He got the postcard you sent from Norway.”

“Awesome. Man, I could really go for those yakisoba buns right now… do you think Sakanoshita Market ships internationally?”

Asahi sat up straight, staring at a pop-up window at the top of his screen.

“She texted back.”, he said quietly in disbelief.

“She texted back?!?”

“She texted back!”

Quickly turning down the volume on his phone as Nishinoya’s voice echoed through the completely silent Azumane home, Asahi popped in his earphones for good measure.

“What did she say?”, Nishinoya asked urgently.

“Hey there, perfect timing. Just got back from the restaurant and am getting ready for bed. It was nice to meet you. When will you be back in Tokyo?”

“Tell her now. Tell her that you don’t wanna fake date. Tell her, you wanna have her babies! Seahorse style.”

“I gotta ask, do these lines ever work on anyone?”

“It’s all about confidence, my friend.”

Asahi took that as a No.

For a little while longer, he texted back and forth with you about a date to meet - a calendar date, he had to clarify to Nishinoya, before finally saying good night.

Nishinoya was very disappointed that he, Asahi, hadn’t straightened out the situation yet and made him promise to do so in a few hours once the sun was up.

Mumbling something noncommittal, Asahi waved goodbye and ended the call as well. He rolled over onto his back and tucked a hand behind his head, staring at the dark ceiling.

He would tell you. Eventually, he thought.

You opened the door to the busy café a few days later and looked around. Just as expected, Asahi was easy to spot - you already knew he was taller than everyone else around him, but there was something different in the way he held himself as compared to a few days ago in the restaurant. The city air seemed to relax him as if he was back in his element in his well-fitted sports coat and bold colors. His hair was tied back as it had been that night, and black-rimmed glasses and white loafers completed the outfit. You felt slightly underdressed.

“Hey, I hope you didn’t wait long.”, you said as you put your bag on the empty chair next to you and sat down.

Asahi smiled and shook his head, pouring you a glass of water from a pitcher on the table. After ordering your coffees and each a slice of cake, you got down to business, a new page in your notepad at the ready in front of you.

“Alright. If we want to pull this off, I think time management is gonna be important, so we should both know when we’re needed for the other one. How often are you back in Miyagi?”

“At least once a month, usually it’s every two weeks for a weekend. My dad has a carpentry business so I also help him deliver big projects sometimes like a wardrobe or a kitchen. Plus, they lend a hand around the village so much that they promise people my help. And I’m not even there.”, he rubbed the back of his neck.

You frowned a little and matched his awkward smile.

“You’d think your dad has an employee to help him.”

“Yeah… you would think that. But he isn’t exactly… logical like that.”

Turning your pen in your hand to have something to do, you said, “It’s always like that, right? With parents that own their own businesses, I mean.”

“Yeah, it’s as if they’re only waiting for their children to be old enough and then-”

“Free labor.”, you said in unison and laughed.

“My parents do that, too. Whenever I go to visit for a bit I am being put right back to work. Exhibit A, last weekend.”

“Oh yeah, that one time I went over for New Year’s and my exams had just finished and I remember, I had this really nasty cold.”, Asahi said, fixing his glasses, “And as soon as my temperature dropped below near-death my dad told me to help him in his workshop.”

“You’re kidding!”

He shook his head and gave a pained sort of grin with a shrug.

As you leaned back in your chair you scoffed lovingly, “Now, see, and those are the same people that call at 11 pm panicking because they think we hate them because they can’t log into our Netflix anymore.”

Asahi snorted into his water glass and apologized a second later when the waiter stepped to your table to set down a tray with your drinks and food.

A short comfortable silence followed in which you took your first bites of cake, then pushed the plates into the center of the table with encouraging smiles, silently offering the other a forkful to try. When you pulled your plate back to you it almost pushed the notepad into your lap. Right! You’d already forgotten about it.

“Okay.”, you began after taking a sip of your drink and he sat a little straighter when he caught on, “Let’s say you have to go back twice a month.”

He nodded but interjected, “I think in those times we can mostly get away with FaceTime or even just texts if needed. My parents would understand if I don’t bring you back every time my dad has a big delivery.”

Humming in understanding you wrote it down.

“What about family functions? Anything coming up?”

The calendar on his phone was consulted.

“Nothing major.”, he said as he scrolled.

“Alright, then I’d just come with on random visits? - Okay. Let me see. My dad’s birthday is next month. We’re gonna have a BBQ, sooo… I’d bring you along then? That should also give us enough time to tell them that we’re dating and set up a whole narrative. I don’t know how involved your parents would be-“, you paused for a moment and he shrugged.

“I never introduced anyone to them.”

“Never?!”, you asked a bit too loudly.

He ducked his head a little and his cheeks turned pink.

“Nope, it never… uhm… lasted long enough to introduce anyone.”

When you cocked your brow, he turned the question around, obviously awkward about being the center of attention on this particular subject, “What about your parents?”

“They’ll wanna know everything about our first date but afterward they’re gonna be chill. They might ask how you’re doing every so often but they usually lose interest in my boyfriends pretty quickly.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, they… they don’t last long usually either. Or are just kind of… jerks? So my parents don’t really wanna invest energy into them.”, before the mood could dip completely, you brightened your voice again, ”Meaning they’re gonna be absolutely thrilled about you. They couldn’t ask for a better fake boyfriend.” You chuckled a bit. “The birthday is on the third June weekend. We can have our stories straight until then, right?”

Asahi looked at you and his mouth opened slightly as if he wanted to say something but then thought better of it. After another short pause, he said, “Yes. Sounds good.”

a/n: request for @sillytoya

@haikyu-mp4 has been forced to listen to me ramble about this for days and helped me editing like the champ she is ✨

[r0tting-rat]

I WAS BORED DURING PSYCHOLOGY CLASS SO ENJOY THIS

Pairing: Sun & Moon x Gender Neutral Reader Warning: Slightly suggestive Words: idk Summary: Sun finds out new stuff about you

It was 10 pm on a random Monday, it was flu season, and you were going to leave the daycare in almost an hour and a half. The day had been slow, the kids had been few, which of course meant that by 9:30 you had already finished cleaning the entire area, much to your dismay. Bored to the core, you were scribbling on a piece of paper with a pen left by the other security guard, thinking on what to do to not melt into a puddle of misery, and immediately your eyes traveled up to Sun. The bot was rearranging blocks a few feet away from your desk, probably just as bored as you, and the corners of your mouth began to rise.

-Sun?- you called him, watching with interest as his head snapped in your direction and a wide smile opened on his flat faceplate.

-Yeeeess, little constellation?- he asked, standing up with all the grace a machine could have. -Do you wanna show me your drawing?-

-Oh, no, fuck no!- you laughed, balling up the piece of paper in your hand and throwing it inside the bin under the desk, -I'd rather die. Come here.-

Sun didn't worry about your refusal, it was a common occurrence between the two of you to bicker and fight about your views on art. Sun claimed that everything made with effort had to be considered "art", while you said that your mad scribbles were not even close to a proper drawing, therefore, he had no reason to insist on seeing them.

-Language, dear,- Sun chimed, coming to stand right in front of you, -Must I remind you what happens to potty-mouths in my daycare?-

Rolling your eyes, you took your phone out of your pocket, inserting the password and entering your phone gallery.

-Yes, yes, Moon has already showed me countless of times,- you told him, -Now, look at this.-

You turned your phone around to show Sun a meme you had saved, waiting for him as he read, with your arm outstretched towards him as you tapped the surface of the desk with your other hand.

-Are you done?- you asked after a while, and at your question Sun's single brow furrowed.

-Is that your cat?- the jester asked back, still looking confused.

-No, that's just a meme, a template of a cat that became famous on the internet,- you explained, letting Sun grab your phone and hold it out in front of him, still studying the picture.

-Why does it want to put me in its basement?- Sun's voice sounded concerned, almost scared, -What did I do to be put in a basement?!-

-It's just a funny meme, Sun!- you were quick to reassure him, -It's supposed to make you laugh!-

-I don't like cats,- said Sun, looking back at you, -They rumble and make weird vibrating sounds when I pet them. I don't like basements either, they're too small for me to stand in and too dark for my taste.-

-Alright, alright, understood,- you sighed, -I just wanted to make you smile a little, but nevermind.-

You had hoped to show your animatronic coworker something new, something funny that would have surprised him and made him laugh, but worrying him wasn't part of the deal. Just as you reached to get your phone back, Sun began to scroll.

-Do you have more of these memes?- he asked, and your eyes widened.

-W-Wait, Sun, wait!-

It was too late, Sun had begun to scroll through your photos, looking through each of your pics with interest. You stood up and attempted to snatch the device away, but Sun spun his torso around to get out of your reach.

-Sun, give it back!- you screamed, grabbing his shoulders and trying to climb on his back.

-Is that me?!- Sun was saying, incredulous, -Did you take photos of me and Moonie while working?!-

Your face was burning, you were beyond embarrassed, but the attendant still refused to give your phone back to you.

-It's not what it looks like!- you whined, but at each photo Sun's eyes got bigger. A zoom-in of his face as he laughed, a close up of one of his drawing, a selfie you had taken during naptime with an unsuspecting Moon, a full body picture of Sun as he was carrying a child with a scraped knee around the daycare; warm and gentle as he always tried to be around those small and soft humans. Looking back at you, Sun found you with an adorable blush dusting your cheeks and neck.

He wondered how far down that beautiful red tint went. Cute.

-Dear?- Sun called you, crossing his arms over his chest while still keeping your phone in his hand, -Why do you have so many photos of me and Moonie in your phone?-

You didn't know what to say. How could you excuse your behavior? Technically, you weren't even allowed to use your phone during working hours. You chose to tell the truth.

-A while back, a friend of mine didn't believe me when I said that you and Moon are... terribly cute,- you spoke the last two words in a whisper, -A-And hot, v-very hot... So I started showing her pictures, you know? B-But, the more photos I took, the more... intimate it felt.-

Realizing that what you said could have been taken the wrong way, you were quick to correct yourself.

-N-Not intimate as in...! I m-mean, intimate as in private! I didn't want to share things with her anymore, but... I kept taking pictures.- Swallowing, you stared at the ground. -Sorry, I... Fuck, I don't know what came over me.-

Sun didn't say anything. For a moment, the entire daycare turned completely silent, and you waited for the robot to say something, anything at all. You were ashamed beyond comprehension.

Suddenly, you heard a loud whirring cutting the silence, along with the hiss of steam being blown out of vents. Looking up, you found Sun with his eyes closed, his face contorted into an almost pained grimaced, retracted rays, and steaming joints. His internal fans were working overtime to keep him cool, but the animatronic was visibly overheating.

-...Sun?- you attempted to say, hoping the jester wasn't too mad at you, -Are you okay?-

-No,- he hissed in response, low and angry, -I'm not okay, starbeam, at all.-

You didn't know what to do. Feeling guilty, you started to consider leaving the daycare early, to give him more space, but by the looks of it, Sun wasn't planning to let go of your phone anytime soon.

-Don't you dare to leave,- Sun suddenly grabbed you by a wrist, and you were surprised by how easily he had read your intentions. With a gentle tug, he pushed you between his arms, against his chest. -Not after all you have done to me.-

Standing so close, you could feel the heat radiating from his chassis, which warmed you up to your very core. His white eyes stared down at you—through you—making you feel uncovered, naked, observed. A smile opened on his face, and Sun giggled, happy to see you so confused and surprised.

-Do you think you could stay a bit after hours today?- he asked you, -After all, potty-mouths need to be taught a lesson, bad adults need to be punished!-

The last sentence was said in a deeper and equally familiar voice; not quite Sun anymore, but similar to the rough vocals of another animatronic. It was the end of the hour, the lights in the daycare were beginning to dim, and the blue and black hues of the daycare attendant were starting to stand out. Moon was coming out, and it looked like he was on the same note as Sun, regarding your punishment.

He giggled while you stared up at him, cast in the red light of his eyes. Beautiful, pretty, pretty, pretty.

-...Moon?- you asked, -What... What are you planning?-

-Oh, don't you worry, my star!- Moon said, holding both of your hands and beginning to spin around, dragging you in a weird dance in the middle of the darkened daycare, -You like us, right?-

Unable to lie while looking him straight in the eyes, you slowly nodded, swallowing down the knot in your throat.

-Like-like us, right?- he asked once more, and again you nodded. -Perrrrfect then.-

His purr reverbrated through your chest, down to your stomach, making your knees weak and your legs unsteady.

-I have the perfect punishment for you then, my dearest,- he said, lowering his faceplate so he could be at the same level of your ears. The moment the hot air of his hands hit your flushed skin, you flinched. -How about you tell me everything you have told your friend about us, mh? All your dreams, all the times you wanted to hold us, to touch us, to kiss us.-

You would have sworn Moon was doing that on purpose, embarrassing you minute after minute, making you feel hotter second after second. Closing your eyes, you cursed out loud, unable to keep your calm anymore.

-Such a naughty star,- Moon giggled, pulling away, finally letting you breathe, -A naughty star with a naughty tongue.-

[swanimagines]

Watch Dogs: Imagine being an ex-employee for Blume, working for DedSec and Wrench asks you out.

requested by anon

Note: nowadays all requests are done straight to asks, this is my old template of posting and I no longer have their asks!

A/N: I had a blast writing this <3 I hope you like it too!

Young you walking through Blume’s gates for the first time, lured in by your ex, had felt amazing. You had graduated from college with excellent grades, and working for Blume, the “better future”, held all your dreams together. You had imagined helping to build assets that would assist those in vulnerable positions, and changing the world into something better.

But then you first got introduced to how exactly ctOS worked, and everything you had believed in came crumbling down. Now, you truly saw what Blume was doing, gathering information about people without them consenting, behind a veil for a better future. It was sickening to see, but you were too deep to get out without anyone suspecting anything.

So, you moved out of the city you had lived all your life in, you lied to your boss that you simply need to take a break from work. You and your ex had separated a few months before that, so leaving him behind wasn’t a problem — especially when you weren’t even sure if he’d be accepting of Blume’s ways. He was more in the office and not really in the technical field like you, he may not even know what Blume is doing. But you wouldn’t be able to risk it, if he ever told Blume that you’ve told him about secrets they had made you vow never to tell outside that room with towers of data… you didn’t want to find out what would happen. It could be possible that they’d silence him too.

Your journey eventually brought you to San Francisco, where you got yourself a little apartment downtown. You knew you probably would be wiser if you just left the USA altogether, somewhere where Blume wouldn’t be able to find you and you could try chipping on them remotely, but… you couldn’t run and hide in another country you didn’t know. So you set up your computers and tried to find a way to help… but then, one day, you got a bag in your head and you got dragged somewhere. And your first thought was that Blume had found you, found out you were trying to sabotage them, and now they would silence you for good.

So when the bag was taken off your head, you assumed to see Dušan Nemec in front of you, accompanied by some Blume security guards. But instead, you saw four people around you, and it didn’t take long to figure out who they were – DedSec. A woman, a guy with a mask, a dark skinned, sturdy man, and a young man in a green hoodie, slightly turned away from the rest of you.

Your mouth opened and closed a few times, before you shook your head. “I’m not…”

You didn’t know how to finish the sentence. Your attempts to breach Blume’s network, you had occasionally come across another foreign signal while probing through their systems. You had collided with it a few times, but now it made sense. It should have made sense at the start. It had been DedSec, and now they probably thought you'd been trying to sabotage them.

You sat there frozen, your eyes jumping between them. But then the woman who stood closest to you huffed with a slight smile. “Relax. We’re not here to hurt you.”

You swallowed, a small hint of relief washing over you. “I wasn’t targeting you, I’m sorry if it looked like that.”

The guy wearing a mask snorted. “Yeah, we get that. If you were targeting us, you’d have done a pretty bad job, even for a Blume counter hacker.”

“Wrench,” the woman sighed, shooting a glance at the man. He shrugged and fell silent.

The dark skinned man stepped forward. “You’ve done a pretty solid job, considering you’ve done everything alone. But you know, it won’t take long before Blume will track you down. They’ve already found the area the unwanted signals are coming from, and in a few hours at most, your apartment will be raided. It isn’t safe for you to go there anymore.

You shot up to stand. “But my whole life is there, all my—”

The man held up a hand. “All your equipment, all your data, all your personal belongings. We know. We already retrieved them. And we also wiped your info from the housing database. 

Wrench snickered. “And the database will tell them that the apartment was rented by a giraffe-crocodile named Fuck Off.”

You blinked. “You… how?”

The man in a green hoodie finally turned towards you. “You only had a mattress without a bed and a few laptops, and some food. It wasn’t hard to get them out.”

The woman cleared her throat. “We’ve had you on our radar ever since we first noticed your signal a few days ago. Not because we think you’re a threat, quite the opposite. You could be useful for us.”

You frowned. “You mean… you’re trying to recruit me?”

The woman nodded. “You have the freedom to choose, of course. If you say no, we will prepare a burner phone for you with a few contacts so you’ll be able to disappear. But there’s a chance Blume will find you again unless you get out of the country, and even then it’s possible they’ll keep chasing you if there’s even a slightest doubt on their end that you’re the one who sent that signal.

You sighed. “So, my options are joining DedSec or running away and pray Blume won’t find me. Splendid.”

Wrench put his hand over his chest. “You make it sound like working with me wouldn’t be an opportunity of a lifetime.”

“The thing is,” the woman spoke again, “that you’ve already started fighting back. You clearly have a desire to bring Blume down, but you just don’t have resources for it. If you join us, we will have your back, we will teach you to hold the ropes and show you how exactly you help.”

You looked down at your hands, and your fingers twitched slightly as your thoughts fought with each other. What other choice did you have? 

The woman stepped closer. “Listen, we’re not here to pressure you. We just wanted to give you the chance to make the call before Blume does it for you.”

“And they will,” the man in the green hoodie added. “Blume doesn’t let loose ends walk free. You’ve seen what they do. You know too much now.”

You turned your head and stared at the wall. “If… if I do this, there’s not going back.”

You saw from the corner of your eye how the dark-skinned man shook his head. “Not to your old life, no. But the life waiting for you with DedSec? It’s worth it.”

Wrench suddenly jumped in, throwing his arms wide. “Yeah! You get to hang with super cool hackers! What’s not to love?”

You felt everyone staring at you, and then you carefully nodded. “Okay. Okay, I will join. But I won’t be doing anything crazy, alright? At least… not at first. I need time to learn.”

The woman smiled. “Welcome to DedSec.”

Wrench whooped, slinging an arm over your shoulders. “You’re gonna love it here! First mission: pick your hacker name. And no, you can’t steal mine, but I’m open to inspiration.”

—

A lot had happened during the past year. For the first three months, you had a hacking bootcamp held by Josh, and you ended up becoming pretty good at it. And now, you were doing just some checkups on your firewalls even though it wasn’t really necessary but it was a good way to pass time. Wrench sat by his workbench, you had noticed he was quieter than usual. When it was just the two of you, he wouldn’t shut up. He’d swing jokes and stories your way, but now he was just sitting there, fidgeting.

But then, he spoke. “Uh… are you finishing up soon?”

You snorted. “I’ve been finished for about an hour, just passing time for now.”

He turned on his stool. “Oh, cool. That’s good.”

He stared at you for a moment, and you stared back. You caught his mask showing heart eyes for a fraction of a second, and you frowned. “What?”

“Um, I was thinking… we’ve worked together for a long time, right? And… I think you’re cool. Really cool. Coolest person around. And uh…” he stammered, his mask displaying a heart again for a moment before disappearing. “I was wondering if… we could go out tonight? Not as DedSec partners, nor really friends either. Or I, I mean if you want to go as friends, that’s cool too, but… I was thinking of like, a date. With me?”

You froze, staring at him in turn. His mask flickered between three different emoticons, and you held back a smile when you realised he was panicking.

“A date?” you echoed. You wanted to make sure you heard right, understood right. Maybe his mask glitched somehow, it was so not like Wrench to panic like that.

He nodded while wringing his hands together. “Yeah, a date. Like a dinner, or a movie, or just a walk in a park I guess. I just… I want to get to know you better, beyond uh… friendship. No pressure! If you aren’t interested, we can pretend this discussion never happened, and I can go back to just being friends, or colleagues, or—”

“Wrench,” you interrupted, unable to hold back a smile now. “I’d love to go on a date with you.”

He froze for a moment, then jumped up, his mask displaying fireworks. “Yes! Okay, awesome, cool. Cool, cool, uh. What do you want to do? I’m going to make something amazing, like movie-level amazing. But not like, cheesy rom-com amazing,” he babbled, then froze again, looking at you. “Unless you like cheesy rom-coms. Do you like cheesy rom-coms?”

You laughed, standing up and walking up to him, before you took his hand into yours and squeezed. “Relax, Wrench. Anything we will do is fine, as long as you’re there.”

He was quiet for a moment, and his mask went through multiple emoticons again. Heart eyes, blush, joy… before he lifted his other hand to the side of it, resetting it to those default X’s. “You’re going to make my mask short–circuit if you keep my heart rate jumping like this.”

You laughed again, bringing his hand to your own chest so he could feel the rapid thumping of your own heart. His mask settled into heart eyes again, and you looked behind you. “Do I need to dress up for where we’re going?”

He was quiet for a moment, then shrugged. “If you want to. But you look gorgeous either way.”

You felt yourself blush again, and you knew Wrench was also bright red behind his mask. And you knew that this date would be amazing either way.

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[cavalierfou]

heeey, been really into underwater crypts and chapels these days so, here are a few i've made. i'm also planning to be more active on here, i have some projects for special packs and templates, hopefully you'll enjoy what's to come 👀 wishing all of you well ! ♡