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smutoperator · 2 months

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Kim Chaewon, Kim Minju x Male Reader

Tags: choking, cum licking, dom/sub, (lots of) facefucking, female masturbation, fucktoy, P2M, rope play, rough sex, sexual freak, smoking, spanking, threesome, voyeurism, whipping

Word count: 6169.

If you are one of the believers in someone radically changing, look no further than Kim Chaewon. Since joining Le Sserafim, she has undergone a radical change, shedding her previously cute image in favor of a fierce, fallen angel one. With that image rebranding, not only did Chaewon get bolder in front of regular audiences, but she has also turned into a sexual freak behind four walls, as you could witness the first time you met her after joining Le Sserafim.

Chaewon's depravity now knew no limits, as she added more and more kinks to her arsenal. Her personal favorite was having any kind of sex with a rope dangerously wrapped around her neck, which she decided to show you with a little solo show in the dark bedroom, where you two were now together, as she placed her left hand under the panties of her sexy lingerie and started fingering herself for you to watch.

"Ahhhhh. Ahhhhh. Ahhhhh," her moans as she fingered her pussy were music to your ears. The way she moved her mouth while searching for air and overstimulating herself was so sexy. Her eyes rolled, but she never lost control of the rope at any time, even if her body now contorted into multiple orgasms. Chaewon just closed her eyes and enjoyed the ride to paradise. Or maybe, in her dirty thoughts, straight to hell. She twisted and turned as if she were being electrocuted, but her hand never left her clit for even a second.

When Chaewon entered the final stage of her earth-shattering orgasm, her head started falling out of the bed, leading to the illusion that the rope had hanged her. As Chaewon's hand finally detached from her pussy, her body lied on the bed for a few seconds as if she were dead. You sure thought she was, getting up from the chair while you were watching her performance to check her pulse. There was a reason Chaewon only tried this move in someone else's company, after all.

At the same time you went in Chaewon's direction, the door started to bang. Her pulse looked fine as you checked it, but she remained unmoved ever since finishing her orgasm. It was an act all along. As Chaewon heard the banging door, she was suddenly brought back to life and detached the rope from her neck, flipping her body around to face you while picking up a cigarette to smoke. "Are you gonna let my guests in or not?" she asked.

In many ways, Kim Minju is the polar opposite of Chaewon. She hasn't undergone any rebranding since her days in Iz*one were over, still relying on her beauty and her cute, girlfriend-esque image to define her public persona and always playing it safe. Her recent vacation in Hawaii with Eunbi was a good example: while her older groupmate was taking bold photos in bikinis and showing herself swimming, Minju was fully clothed every single time she showcased herself while on vacation.

Despite those differences, Chaewon and Minju were still as close as ever. The radical change in her former groupmate didn't alienate Minju; it rather made her curious. So much so that she accepted Chaewon's invitation to be her guest in an experience she had never been part of before.

Chaewon greeted Minju already in lingerie while smoking yet another cigarette as she looked at Minju's beautiful face and her manager along with her, just as Chaewon had requested. "Make yourself at home," she said. Minju was modest as always, wearing a black dress while her manager was still wearing work attire. Minju at first didn't know how to react, looking at her manager for a green light. "Go on, follow me," Chaewon said, encouraging her former groupmate.

Minju walked and sat on the bed. Chaewon had just "died" a couple minutes ago. The sun was starting to shine on this cold February day, making Chaewon's lingerie glow as it hit the dorm's curtains. Her manager followed and was going to sit as well until Chaewon interrupted him.

"Just her," she commanded. Reluctantly, Minju's manager moved closer to the chair where you were still sitting as Chaewon walked the room and stared at Minju, always in awe over her ethereal beauty, before she started asking her questions.

"Do you like to be dominated?" Chaewon asked. "Yes." Minju gave her a timid answer as Chaewon continued to interrogate her. "What's your safe word?" she then asked. "Fox," Minju said. "That sounds too similar to fuck; you need to change it," Chaewon instructed her. "Pepe," she said. "And how do you want to be dominated today?" Chaewon continued as she kept slowly walking. "I like to be spanked," Minju replied, sensing the perfect opportunity. Her porcelain skin was still a little red from the vacation in Hawaii, so she felt like it would be an extra challenge.

"Great," Chaewon approved her choice, sitting along with Minju and looking at her right in the eye before grabbing Minju by the Chin with her right hand as they looked at each other face-to-face. She gave Minju a soft slap that made her close her eyes, then took a look at her pouty lips, ruining Minju's lipstick as she ran her hand over it.

"Ready to join us?" Chaewon asked you as she smoked a little more. You stood up and headed towards both, followed by Minju's manager, before Chaewon stepped ahead. "Not you, just him," she said to the manager, who now took your place in the chair. You put your finger on Minju's mouth, looking to make her your submissive toy from the start. Chaewon caressed Minju's hair, trying to make her feel at home. Minju looked frightened as you towered over her, making your presence very intimidating.

You pushed Minju's body onto your lap, fully exposing her bare legs for Chaewon to see as her dress got lifted. Her skin was already ultra-red around her ass, indicating that she indeed wore a bikini in Hawaii but just never showed it. The outer lips of Minju's tasty pussy were already popping out. Her manager looked in disbelief as she watched a bent-over Minju look extremely submissive.

"Tell him when to hit," Chaewon tells Minju, whose eyes look regretful now. "Hit," Minju says as you follow her command with a hard spank that makes her roll her eyes in pain. Minju asks again, and you strike her just as hard, this time on the right cheek instead of the left. Minju takes a while to repeat the command, giving you some time to run your right hand over her ass. Once you hit her, she lets out the first moan from her mouth. As Minju feels more prepared, you continue to strike, and she continues to moan. You grab her arm as she lets out a smile at the next spank, your hand already making a full imprint on her red ass.

Minju decreases the interval between strikes, telling you to hit more times. Her butt looks extremely swollen, and you have barely started. You lift her dress a little, allowing Chaewon to see Minju's rarely-shown belly button. Minju now feels very satisfied at every hit; she wasn't lying when she said she liked to be spanked after all. Chaewon stands up as she gives Minju a little strike before turning away to search for her ashtray to put another fully smoked cigarette. She goes back to give Minju a couple hits as the pretty girl recognizes Chaewon's softer hands in her ass. Chaewon then takes the initiative and becomes the lead striker, before pushing Minju away from your lap and moving towards the next act.

Chaewon gives Minju a kiss as both of you run your hands all over her dress. The fully clothed torso of Minju contrasts with the barely clothed one of Chaewon. But you're about to level them as you start slowly taking Minju's dress off and groping her little tits as she is braless, while Chaewon wraps her strong hands around Minju's face to kiss her. Chaewon also pokes Minju's boobs before she pushes her closer to you to kiss Minju. The bikini marks on Minju's chest are fairly visible, as her pale skin around her boobs contrasts with the redder one on her beautiful collarbones and chest.

You grab Minju by her neck with your veiny hands, putting her knees on the floor. Chaewon unhooks your belt and wraps it around Minju's neck, never missing a chance to show what her favorite kink is. Chaewon tightens the belt but keeps it just loose enough to not suffocate Minju, using it like a dog collar. You unzip your pants and point your erection towards Minju's princess's face. Your uncut cock already looks very intimidating, even though only the tip is out of the foreskin.

Chaewon leads your boner to Minju's mouth, and she licks her chops as soon as her unnie does it. Chaewon knows Minju is no saint and that her cute image is just a facade that falls as soon as she senses the smell of a dirty cock. You push your erection a little up, and Minju immediately follows, reacting like she's a robot programmed to please a man's meat. Chaewon giggles as you shove your cock in Minju's mouth and grab her by the back of the head.

"How tight is her mouth, baby?" Chaewon asks as Minju closes her eyes and throats your manhood. Just a few slow but deep thrusts in her throat are enough for her to gag, but the cock that emerges out of her mouth now's got a throbbing tip that can no longer be contained under your foreskin. "Deeper," Chaewon says as you now fuck Minju's pretty face, who looks overwhelmed, especially her cheeks, which seem as if they are about to burst every time your cock hits them. Chaewon takes your cock in her mouth to show Minju how it's done, bobbing her head before getting face-fucked and emerging with a smile as soon as she gags.

Minju can only watch in awe of how hard you fuck Chaewon's face, like she's just a gloryhole. And Chaewon loves every second of it, grabbing your butt as she pushes her mouth closer to your crotch. Chaewon then grabs Minju's head and provides the support you need to freely fuck the beauty's face. A large pop comes out of Minju's lips once you're done. "Give me your face," you demand of her as you slap your cock on Minju's beautiful, porcelain skin, giving special attention to her red cheeks.

"Lick my balls," you ask Minju, who descends down your crotch while you now fuck Chaewon's mouth. Minju's lips bring a lot of friction to your sack as Chaewon slurps all over your prick. "Spit on her face," you ask Chaewon right after finishing the sloppy facefuck, as she shares her saliva with Minju. You grip Minju by your belt and give her the roughest throatfuck yet. You further humiliate Minju, sitting on her cute face as you ask her to rim your dirty butthole while you pound Chaewon's insatiable throat, and then keep switching between their tight facial entrances to warm your cock up.

"Ass up," you ask Minju, who follows and buries her face on Chaewon's thighs, who giggles as you start turning her rope into a whip, rotating it to spank Minju's already red butt. Chaewon laughs like a psychopat, enjoying Minju's suffering as she adds to it, slapping both hands on Minju's ass. "You told me you liked to be spanked," she recalls.

Once you're done whipping her, you take out Minju's little thong, the final piece of fabric still on her body. With her now fully naked, you don't hide your intentions. "She's got such a great ass. I wanna fuck her," you say, soon turning your words into action as you plow into Minju's tight slit. Chaewon removes the support from her lap, letting Minju fend for herself as you pound her at a 90-degree angle, while Chaewon whispers words in Minju's ear.

"Little whore likes that big cock, doesn't she?" Chaewon asks Minju, who doesn't answer because she's too busy with a raging bull impaling her. "Fuck that pussy," Chaewon commands to you just as you pause to lube your dick with Chaewon's mouth. After some extra poundings, you take Minju out of her submissive cocksleeve position just to spit on her pretty face before choking her with your belt.

"Come on, get on the bed," you and Chaewon ask Minju as both of you continue to play the dominant couple. Chaewon helps lift Minju's legs over her head and position her on a mating press in the bed. You put your cock back on Minju's perfect pussy, giving her slow thrusts that reach all the way deep inside her and make your cock bulge on Minju's belly. Then you increase the pace while both you and Chaewon choke Minju. You use your hands while she uses her always-at-hand rope.

Minju rests on Chaewon's breasts as you go back to intensely fucking her. "Do you like that?" you ask Minju. "Yes, I like that," she answers back. "Then let me do this," you say as you stick a pair of fingers on Minju's clit, wanting for her to squirt. "She saw me squirting a river one day and now wants every girl to do that," Chaewon says. Little showers come out of Minju's vagina, which are a sign for you to go back in.

You now slap Minju's face as her moans turn into a fox-esque squeal. "Look at this big cock inside you," you tell Minju, enjoying that bulge under her belly. Chaewon wants a piece of it as she laughs at your face. "Go harder," she says, which leads you to violently choke her. "Who are you to give me orders?" you say. "The other dominant half," she replies.

"AHHHHHH. AHHHHH," Minju screams as you once again penetrate her with your fingers, this time managing to be much more successful in making her squirt. "That pussy is so wet," Chaewon says as Minju starts to lose her breath, especially as you grab her neck much harder now. Minju's belly muscles start to contract, and you place your hands in her clit, stimulating her while you stretch her pussy out. As soon as you stop a little to eat Minju out, her body starts having spasms as your tongue searches for her best spots to cum.

You aren't done yet as you destroy Minju balls deep like she's your personal fleshlight. Chaewon rests her body on top of Minju's, ready to taste that wet pussy from your cock as soon as you please. Of course you had to give it to her in the only way it could please Chaewon's insatiable sexual appetite: by fucking her face. Minju now tries to silence her increasingly out-of-breath moans by placing Chaewon's fabric in her mouth, but it's useless. Her pussy is so stretched out that anything can send her over the moon now.

You continue to take turns between Minju's vagina and Chaewon's face until you grab Chaewon and look at her devilish smile following a facefuck. "You're the best; come here and get some more." You reward Chaewon for her insane appetite as your meat continues to pound her throat. You then switch back to Minju, using your right hand to shut her fucking mouth up while you rub Chaewon's body, trying as much as possible not to cum earlier and not break the promise that Chaewon made to Minju's member that they wouldn't cum inside her. Instead, they would make her insides cum.

"NOOOOOO!" Minju screamed as you now put your full hand in her pussy to make it squirt. Minju nearly had thoughts of saying her safe word and making you stop, but they passed as the heat your hands put in her pussy settled down. But you were a gentleman and rewarded Minju's cumming with a kiss, plus a taste of it as your right hand now fisted her mouth. "Lick it. Tell me how it tastes," you asked her. "So good," Minju replied.

You have now set your sights on Chaewon. "Come here, turn around, please," you tell her as you pull Chaewon's panties down. She closes her legs and puts her ass up, giving you a perfect view of her puffy slit, giggling as you sniff and blow air into her pair of fuckholes. "Look at this slut, always laughing," you say as Chaewon gets louder. "Give me, give me your cock," she demands with a smile on her face.

You answer her immediately, penetrating Chaewon as your hands firmly grab her ass. "Please, please, give it to me," she continues to beg as you pump her cunt faster. Minju appears back on the frame to serve you as the submissive fucktoy, resting her head on Chaewon's left buttcheek. You then take turns performing a hole-switching between Chaewon's pussy and Minju's mouth, taking one deep thrust at each every time. You fuck Minju's face to get your cock wetter for Chaewon, earning her approval. "That's how a good boy does it," she says.

"Give it to me, fuck my pussy," she keeps repeating as you now grab her neck and push her face closer to you for some kisses. Chaewon talks louder than she moans; so far, your fast pumpings have just been easy peasy lemon squeezy to her, especially compared to Minju. "You mean like that?" you say as you hammer her harder. "YES!" Chaewon finally elevates her tone, sticking her tongue out to show how pleased she is as you finally take her bra off.

Chaewon rests her head on the bed as you increase the pumping, grabbing her by the suspender belt—the only part of her lingerie, besides her stockings, which she never takes off, that's still on. "Come on, harder," she says as you use Minju's mouth to help you again, and she coughs on your big cock. Seeing Chaewon is hard to please with just a cock in her pussy, you resort towards your main dom trick and start stomping on her head, but even your big foot smashing her face does little to deter Chaewon's insatiableness.

Minju can only watch as you now fuck Chaewon like an animal. "Come on, stomp on my face. So you wanna be the boss? Show me you got it. Fuck that pussy hard," she invites the challenge as you ragdoll her. That big cock hitting her cervix many times a second finally makes Chaewon moan. "Deeper, harder; give me all of it; come on," she says. You have a lot of stamina, but Chaewon is such a physical freak that even a guy like you gets fully drained by her unmatched intensity. Chaewon smiles and moans with her tongue out as you replace your foot with your hand on her face to get a deeper penetration of her pussy.

Chaewon is now bent at a straight angle, and so is your cock while penetrating her; that combination finally allows her to get what she wants. But you would rather not get drained just with her and leave nothing for Minju, as the moment you see the young beauty following her unnie's footsteps and putting her ass up, you switch to fucking her instead.

It's much harder for Minju, as just a pair of pumps has her screaming. Chaewon barks in pleasure, watching her fucktoy get impaled once again and having it hard with something that was just regular play to her. You still pay attention to Chaewon's perfect butt, spanking it and fingering her easily accessible cunt while breaking Minju apart.

"AHHHHHH~" Minju screams as you stick your cock balls deep in her pussy, staying with them fully inside her for a long time. That makes her legs weak, meaning she can't put her ass up anymore, getting her body pressed against the bed in a prone-bone position. As you take your fingers off Chaewon's fuckholes, you spank her butt and give her a kiss. "So do you like watching your little toy get fucked like that?" you ask her after the kiss. "Hell yes," Chaewon responds.

You push Minju to the edge of the bed and put her on her knees to pound her doggystyle. Chaewon moves toward the place in the dorm's bed that Minju once was, giving you a perfect view of her sexy tits as she starts masturbating herself to you fucking Minju. "Oh my God," Minju says as you muffle her mouth and stretch her out fast and hard, to the point she can barely hold onto the bed as Chaewon stares at her and just enjoys the show.

Chaewon spreads her legs as you push Minju's face towards her unnie's craving cunt. "Good girl," she says as Minju's tongue hits her clit. You make sure that Minju's beautiful face stays buried there as you choke her while she tries to dive under Chaewon's folds. Minju's tight pussy, breedable hips, and the speed you fuck her get you close to release, which earns Chaewon's disapproval. "Do not cum yet," she says.

You have to pull out of Minju's pussy to hold yourself as you look drained and struggle to breathe, pleasing her pussy shortly after to repay her for such a good fucking. You three engage in an oral train as Minju is still eating Chaewon's slit, now moaning every time you tongue it deep into her own's. Chaewon giggles as you eat Minju out, making her increase the speed at Chaewon's pussy, clinging to it as her last way of surviving your tongue hitting her folds. Chaewon loves it, moaning more than she ever did when you were the one fucking her.

You go back to Minju's pussy, sensing that the more she clings to eating Chaewon's cunt as a coping mechanism, the better she gets. But Chaewon loves to test her and detaches her pussy away from Minju's grasp, leaving her all by herself to take the rough pounding you now give her, only going back to grab Minju's hair and get a privileged view of her face stuggling as you destroy her pussy. You finish Minju with a deep fingering that finally, after resisting your first two attempts, makes her squirt a river into the bedsheets.

With Minju still recovering from her orgasm, you keep the heat in her wet pussy and eat her out. You tied your belt around her thighs to keep them close as you put your cock back in her tight pussy, while Chaewon lifted Minju's cute face straight into her tits for her to suck it. Soon, you two were teaming up on her, with Chaewon grabbing Minju's neck while you pinched her nipples. Minju grinded her teeth, overwhelmed by the way you two attacked her. Minju grabbed her ass and then yelled. "PLEASE DON'T STOP.".

Chaewon grossed her legs on top of Minju's face, smothering it with her thighs as the younger girl dove back into her pussy, with a little helping hand shoving her, before going face to face with her and asking, "Are you enjoying being our little fucktoy, Ming?". "Yes." Minju nodded while struggling with the heat you were still putting in her little pussy. Chaewon ran her fingers on Minju's chin as she wanted to watch the pretty girl moan up close before letting Minju suck her thumb as she kept moaning.

"You want him to take you deeper?" Chaewon asked. Minju just nodded this time. "Tell him," Chaewon kept pressuring. "Please, fuck me deeper," Minju says, already very out of breath. "Come here," you promptly answer her, pushing Minju out of bed, taking off your belt from her thighs, and getting her to stand. Your cock now hits her deep in the cervix while you finger her pussy with both hands, and Chaewon just watches and takes the bed all by herself.

Minju gets clapped hard as your balls make a loud noise every time you thurst into her pussy. Even her little tits now bounce like pinballs. "AHHHHH," she says, feeling the heat and placing her right hand at yours, implying you should go easier. But without saying, you two can't understand, as Chaewon now grabs her neck. The bikini marks from her vacation glow as the sun hits the curtains more intensely.

"Show your manager how much of a fucktoy you are," you say as you turn Minju's body around and let her face her manager and manhandle her in front of him. He has to keep his composure, but the truth is, he's nearly creaming his pants. Chaewon giggles as she watches poor Minju get destroyed like a defenseless damsel. You three now get close as Chaewon stands up and grabs Minju while you keep pounding her, as both your left hand and Minju's now rest on her pussy.

Minju continues to get mauled in front of her manager as Chaewon enjoys every second of it. "You like to watch her get fucked, don't you?" she says as the manager remains silent. "ANSWER IT," Chaewon demands of the manager, who can only say "yeah" as Minju now clings to his legs while still being destroyed like a fucktoy. Chaewon taps Minju's ass and rests her head on her back, looking at you naughtily. "Open your mouth and eat her ass," you ask her, diving her head on Minju's butt as Chaewon sticks her tongue out to lick her former groupmate's butthole, enjoying a perfect view of Minju's pussy being stretched out.

You once again perform your classic pussy-to-mouth switcheroo between Chaewon and Minju, making the former laugh once you're ready to pound Minju more and more. Chaewon spits on your dick and gropes Minju's ass cheeks as the younger beuty turns into a moaning mess. "Come to me," you ask Chaewon while Minju is still on all fours, completely neutralized and submissive. She's not going to be able to walk for the next few days.

Chaewon gets ready to sit on your cock as Minju turns around to watch her unnie's upcoming wild ride, still on her knees and very sore. "Turn around," you tell Chaewon. "Ohhh, uhhhh," she moans in anticipation as you fully impale her. You grab Chaewon by her ass and push your cock up her cunt under Minju's watchful eye. "Lick my balls, lick those fucking balls," you ask Minju, who dives between your legs as you push Chaewon's butt slightly upwards to let Minju have a full view of your shaft. Chaewon keeps throwing words of incentive to fuck her harder as you pump her hole faster and she rests her body on your torso.

You lock Chaewon's arms behind her back. "Please, please, fuck me harder," she demands. "I love fucking that pusssy so much," you tell her after kissing her tenderly. "AHHHH FUCK," you are the first to scream as your fast poundings and Minju's mouth on your balls get you close and force you to calm down, but not for long as Chaewon gets more demanding as you resume pounding her while sucking her perky tits. "Deeper. Harder," she keeps saying. You spank her ass, choke her, and pinch her nipples as you get rougher on her, trying to match Chaewon's demanding style. It seems like too much cock is never enough for her.

"I want all of it," Chaewon says. "Then take it, you fucking slut, every inch of it in your cunt," you angrily reply to her as your cock hits her cervix. But Chaewon is indeed antifragile and takes advantage of your little pause to take control of the ride and start bouncing full speed on your big pole.

You shove Chaewon to the side to not cum prematurely. "Lick it," you tell Minju, who rims your asshole and calms you a bit. But Chaewon comes back right where she left off, sitting on your face and grabbing your cock intensely as you two are now engaged on a 69. You try to fuck her face, but Chaewon and her mouth of steel successfully defeat you, with her taking your cock fully deep in her throat and not letting it out. You start to scream again and hold her as hard as you can by the waist. Minju sniffs your balls, and you keep pushing up Chaewon's throat to free yourself from her, but she doesn't bend an inch.

Chaewon only lets you off the control of her throat to talk to Minju, but she is still grabbing your shaft. "Hmmm, yeah, you like licking his balls?" she asks. Minju nods in agreement. "You like being a good little slut?" she continues. "Yes, ma'am," Minju replies in a way that feels like she's almost worshipping Chaewon. "Then go get my rope; go get it," Chaewon replies as she slaps Minju's porcelain face and makes it red.

"Do you want more?" Chaewon giggles as she puts her back against the bed. "Yes, I fucking want more," you say. That woman is getting on your nerves. Sex seems so easy to her. You fuck her like a raging animal, yet she barely flinches. Minju brings the rope, as asked. Chaewon is more satisfied than ever as she ties it around her neck. You put Chaewon's feet in your mouth and pound her in a hardcore missionary, while she slowly wraps the rope fully around her neck.

"Get on the bed," Chaewon tells Minju as she also wraps the youngster around her rope. Your hands hard-fingering Chaewon's cunt and the rope choking her are finally what make her cave and start moaning. "Oh, I love it, I love it, I love it," she says. You start teasing Chaewon's pussy, going in and out of it as you sense her getting more sensitive. "AHHHHH!" she yells as your cock hits the depths of her vagina. Chaewon starts to beg as you grope her boobs and manhandle her. For the first time, you're the real boss, as she grinds her teeth at each pounding your manhood prescribes on her pussy.

Your balls clap hard on her skin while you make fast movements on Chaewon's clitoris, playing with it like a musician playing with the strings of a guitar. "Make that pussy cum," she is still able to demand despite looking as weak as ever. Your whole hand now rests over her clit, making aggressive moves in search of that fallen angel nectar. "OHHHH. OHHHHH. OHHHHH." For the first time, Chaewon turns into a screaming machine; her hard walls clench and start to fall apart.

Chaewon grabs your neck and asks for more, but this time you show her who's in control, as she gets double choked by your hands and the rope. Minju is now merely a spectator of you two's debauchery, as she barely feels her legs after a pounding that looked easy compared to the one Chaewon is taking. Chaewon grunts, and you answer in the same manner, blowing off steam at her slutty, choked face.

"Give it to me," she keeps asking like usual, now with her legs fully spread and her toes going over her head. You could punish her with a surprise cumshot in her cunt right now but decide to have some mercy, instead bringing Minju back to action as you two team up to eat Chaewon's pussy and get her even weaker. Chaewon is strong enough to choke Minju using her legs, but two tongues working her throbbing folds still make her moan as hard as she ever did.

You make eye contact with Minju and give her kisses between the licking you two are performing. You are falling in love with Minju's ethereal beauty. Meeting the love of your life on top of her former groupmate's pussy is a story you don't see often. You stick your cock back inside Chaewon but now treat her as just an audition to impress Minju, who watches it up close with her head still wrapped around Chaewon's legs. As Chaewon asks you to go deeper, you shove your entire cock inside her, not even sparing your balls.

"All the way," Chaewon demands. And you will go all the way, treating Chaewon like a fucktoy, just like the way she treats all her sex partners. "Give me all your cock," Chaewon continues to demand. You give all your cock, but not to her. "Open your mouth," you ask Minju, who stretches her beautiful lips out to receive the juices of her unnie first hand. Minju gets fucked in the face just enough for you to resume the rampage on Chaewon.

You press Minju's head against Chaewon's belly, making her feel the fire under it. You stick your cock balls deep once more inside that insatiable whore, making her scream as you reach her cervix as you feed Minju right after. Chaewon laughs as you use your wrath and frustration to destroy Minju's pretty face. You push yourself to the floor and drag Chaewon alongside you, plowing her cunt in front of Minju's manager. "Harder, harder, harder," she begs as her tits jiggle at each pounding.

Minju's manager is the one enjoying it the most, as he gets to enjoy an extremely sexy view starting with Chaewon and Minju's heads locked at each other, their hairs very messy, going down Chaewon's bouncy tits as she gets plowed down low with your huge stick, her legs fully spread like a crab while you finger her clit with both your thumbs. The manager can't resist such visual overstimulation and cums without touching himself.

"You like watching it?" Chaewon asks the manager just as he finishes bursting a huge load on his trousers. "Tell me, use your words?" she keeps pushing in between moans. Chaewon is now the one auditioning as she pulls out of your cock and sits on your face, getting close to the manager and attempting to seduce him as she points her milky tits and moaning face right in his sights. As she groans harder, she finally gets a positive response from the manager.

Chaewon giggles but is quickly interrupted by the pressure you put on her pussy. "OHHHHH FUCKKK!" she screams as you lead her to finally have an orgasm in front of Minju's manager. You try to take advantage of it by resuming pounding Chaewon and choking her harder using the rope you now hold with your left hand, but she quickly shuts it down and just enjoys your hard and deep thrusts. "Harder," she says, going back to asking.

You asphyxiate Chaewon with the rope and slap her tits; that only turns her into more of a sex demon. Despite you choking her, she's the one who takes control of the ride and gives you yet another close call. "FUCK!" you scream as you kick Chaewon back up to the bed, putting her body upside down while you demand Minju to lick her pussy. You two finally manage to tame Chaewon as her face is buried on Minju's hips while yours are in her insatiable cunt.

"You want that cum?" Chaewon asks Minju as you free her for one last rodeo. "Tell us you want it," she keeps saying. Minju sticks her tongue out, signaling to you that she's begging to taste that cum. "Are you gonna give her the cum or not?" Chaewon provokes you as you grope her tits.

"Cover me in your cum; show how much you love us," Chaewon says. As much as she got on your nerves, you can't say no to such a sex goddess as you ejaculate your semen all over her body, paying special attention to hitting her mole and her boobs the most. Chaewon drains your balls before you can even spare a load for Minju, who has to lick her unnie's sexy body to taste your protein, which Minju does perfectly, filling her cute mouth and pretty face with sperm.

"Good girl," Chaewon tells Minju as she licks and kisses her nipples, which end up being her favorite spot. Minju gives your cock one last deepthroat, which helps her swallow most of your cum, leaving a few drops to swap with Chaewon as they kiss each other. You and Minju are extremely tired, both your genitalia throbbing in pain after such a long and hard sex session. It turns out Chaewon is just an insane woman, which is too much for you two to handle. Minju rests her head on your lap as you tenderly caress her, falling in love as both of you fall asleep on the bed.

But that sleep is short-lived. After 20 minutes or so, you and Minju open your eyes. The first thing Minju sees as she wakes up is her manager manhandling a woman and treating her like a dog, using a rope to choke her while she curses.

"Fuck me in front of her."

#chaewon smut #minju smut #le sserafim smut #izone smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #kpop smut #male reader smut

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cy-cyborg · 8 months

Text

Writing and drawing amputee characters: Not every amputee wears prosthetics (and that's ok)

Not every amputee wears prosthetics, and not doing so is not a sign that they've "given up".

It's a bit of a trope that I've noticed that when an amputee, leg amputees in particular, don't wear prosthetics in media its often used as a sign that they've given up hope/stopped trying/ are depressed etc. If/when they start feeling better, they'll start wearing their prosthetics again, usually accompanied by triumphant or inspiring music (if it's a movie). The most famous example of this is in Forest Gump, Where Dan spends most of the movie after loosing his legs wishing he'd died instead. He does eventually come around, and him finally moving from his wheelchair to prosthetics is meant to highlight this.

The thing is, it's not that it's unrealistic - in fact my last major mental health spiral was started because one of my prosthetics was being a shit and wouldn't go on properly, despite fitting perfectly at the prosthetist's the day before. I'm not going to use my legs when I'm not in a good headspace, but the problem is, this is the only time non-prosthetic using amputees ever get representation: to show how sad they are. Even if that's not what the creator/writer necessarily intended, audiences will often make that assumption on their own unless you're very careful and intentional about how you frame it, because it's what existing media has taught them to expect.

But there are lots of reasons why someone might not use prosthetics:

they might not need them: this is more common in arm amputees because of how difficult it can be to use arm prosthetic, especially above-elbow prosthetics. Most folks learn how to get on without them pretty well. In fact, most of the arm amputees I know don't have prosthetics, or only have them for specific tasks (e.g. I knew a girl who had a prosthetic hand made specifically for rowing, but that's all she used it for).

Other mobility aids just work better for them: for me, I'm faster, more manoeuvrable and can be out for longer when I'm in my wheelchair than I ever could on my prosthetics. Youtube/tik tok creator Josh Sundquist has said the same thing about his crutches, he just feels better using them than his prosthetic. This isn't the case for everyone of course, but it is for some of us. Especially people with above-knee prosthetics, in my experience.

Other disabilities make them harder to use: Some people are unable to use prosthetics due to other disabilities, or even other amputations. Yeah, as it turns out, a lot of prosthetics are only really designed for single-limb amputees. While they're usable for multi-limb amps, they're much harder to use or they might not be able to access every feature. For example, the prosthetic knee I have has the ability to monitor the walk cycle of the other leg and match it as close as possible - but that only works if you have a full leg on the other side. Likewise, my nan didn't like using her prosthetic, as she had limited movement in her shoulders that meant she physically couldn't move her arms in the right way to get her leg on without help.

Prosthetics are expensive in some parts of the world: not everyone can afford a prosthetic. My left prosthetic costs around $5,000 Australian dollars, but my right one (the above knee) cost $125,000AUD. It's the most expensive thing I own that I only got because my country pays for medical equipment for disabled folks. Some places subsidise the cost, but paying 10% of $125,000 is still $12,500. Then in some places, if you don't have insurance, you have to pay for that all by yourself. Even with insurance you still have to pay some of it depending on your cover. Arm prosthetics are even more expensive. Sure, both arms and legs do have cheaper options available, but they're often extremely difficult to use. You get what you pay for.

they aren't suitable for every type of environment: Prosthetics can be finicky and modern ones can be kind of sensitive to the elements. My home town was in a coastal lowland - this means lots of beaches and lots of swamp filled with salty/brackish water. The metals used in prosthetics don't hold up well in those conditions, and so they would rust quicker, I needed to clean them more, I needed to empty sand out of my foot ALL THE TIME (there always seemed to be more. It was like a bag of holding but it was just sand). Some prosthetics can't get wet at all. There were a few amputees who moved to the area when I was older who just didn't bother lol. It wasn't worth the extra effort needed for the maintenance.

People have allergies to the prosthetic material: This is less of a problem in the modern day, but some people are allergic to the materials their prosthetics are made from. You can usually find an alternative but depending on the type of allergy, some people are allergic to the replacements too.

Some people just don't like them.

There's nothing wrong with choosing to go without a prosthetic. There's nothing wrong with deciding they aren't for you. It doesn't make you a failure or sad or anything else. Using or not using prosthetics is a completely morally neutral thing.

Please, if you're writing amputees, consider if a prosthetic really is the best mobility aid for your character and consider having your characters go without, or at least mix it up a bit.

For example, Xari, one of the main characters in my comic, uses prosthetics unsupported and with crutches, and uses a wheelchair. They alternate between them throughout the story.

#disability #disabled #id in alt text #writing #writing disability #disability representation #authors of tumblr #write #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writer #creative writing #writing tips #writing resources #writing help #writing advice #writing disability with cy cyborg

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81folklore · 7 months

Text

dress - SV5 - part 2

pairings: sebastian vettel x famous!reader (fc: taylor swift)

summary: its known that seb has been married for a few years now despite the public never seeing is wife, its also known that yn is in a committed relationship and has been since she disappeared from public eye. maybe they are more connected than people realise

authors note: part two because i didnt realise how long it had gotten but im allergic to actually writing.. also i apologize for the first part literally just being build-up.. i honestly didnt know about the 30 pic limit so...

authors note 2: i used google translate for the german so i hope its correct, also i dont know if petnames like darling or sunshine are used in germany but i had to use them

authors note 3: i actually hate how this turned out :/ but it was very hard to actually get my thoughts onto the page so this will do! this is part 2 so go read part 1 first!!

part 1 part 3 masterlist

ynupdates

liked by user5, user77, olliebearman and 45,920 others

YN IN THE F1 PADDOCK TODAY, I REPEAT YN IN THE PADDOCK

view comments

user77: sorry i dont follow f1, i thought the races were on sundays?

user5: dont be sorry! today is qualifying and tomorrow is the race!

user5: SHES THERE I CANT STAY CALM

user91: does anyone know who she was with in those photos of her by the track?

user5: sebastian vettel and mick schumacher!

user6: SHE WAS WATCHING QUALIFYING WITH SEB AND MICK?? SEB VETTEL?? AND MICK SCHUMACHER?? OH LORDDD

user12: i thought i would survive.. i lied

ynupdates

liked by user5, user20, user99 and 101,782 others

seems like yn is with redbull at todays race looking as gorgous as ever!

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user5: OH OH OH OH

user5: SHE IS STUNING HOLY

user20: her style recently has been AMAZING

user68: out of every team i think redbull would have been one of my last guesses

user6: THE WAY SHE IS WITH REDBULL AND SPENT QUALIFYING WITH REDBULLS GOLDEN BOY OH I FEEL SICK

user99: i love her so much

user42: at least her team will win

user591: IS SHE WEARING A WEDDING RING??

user618: i think so?? honestly i wouldnt be surprised shes very private and has been with her partner for almost 8 years so no wonder he popped the question

user90: i need her to be at every gp

ynupdates

liked by charles_leclerc, user55, user81 and 234,891 others

yn on stage performing dress during the post-race concert at suzuka! as far as we know it was a complete surprise, she came on to sing dress then left. this is her second time performing it to a live audience!

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user81: WHEN IS IT MY TURN TO HEAR DRESS LIVE

user5: charles and seb were both spotted watching her from the side of the stage!

user81: charles taking seb to see his favorite artist..what if i cried

user55: i cant believe i lost dress twice without even knowing i could lose it😭

user8: i hope she had so much fun, ive missed her doing stuff like this :’)

user12: apparently she was laughing and looking off stage at someone throughout, possibly her partner?

user1: SHE AWLAYS LOOKS SO GOOD

user13: so much content this weekend..im going to have major withdrawls

yourusername

liked by sebastianvettel, mickschumacher and 13,712,847 others

four years ago i was given the pleasure of marrying my best friend

i am unable to really put into words how much meeting you and getting to spend the rest of my life with you has changed my life seb, but i tell you i love you enough daily that i hope you understand

when we first met i had no idea how much you would impact me and the way i think, but you have helped me become the woman i am today and i am forever grateful for that

i often feel unworthy of the life you have given me, the life we have together. i wonder how i got to be the one you love and cherish and i know how lucky i am to be the one you spend your life with

you gave me your heart and i promise to look after it for as long as im here, i promise to keep it safe and i know you will look after mine

danke, dass du mich liebst, danke, dass du dich um mich kümmerst. (thank you for loving me, thank you for taking care of me) Ich verspreche, dich bis zu meinem letzten Atemzug zu lieben. (I promise to love you until my last breath) Ich werde nie aufhören, dich zu lieben, Mein Sonnenschein. (I will never stop loving you, my sunshine)

tagged: sebastianvettel

comments on this post have been limited

sebastianvettel: Danke, dass du dein Herz geöffnet hast und mich dich lieben lässt, mein Schatz (Thank you for opening your heart and letting me love you, my darling)

sebastianvettel

liked by yourusername, lewishamilton and 8,728,712 others

I won the most important race. It was the race into the heart of the love of my life, yn. I love you.

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yourusername: 🩵🩵🩵

user5: I CANT DO THIS STOP

user12: hes so sweet :(

user18: ive known about them for a total of 2 minutes but i love them already🫡

user6: dress was written about him…

user71: i feel ill wehn will i get posted like this

sebastianvettel

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername, landonorris and 10,120,859 others

the sunshine of my life

view comments

yourusername: i love you so much

lewishamilton: very happy for you mate!

user13: THEY LOVE EACHOTHER SO MUCH OH MY GOD😭😭

landonorris: 🥹🥹

user82: DRESS WAS WRITTEN BY HER FOR HIM AND HE WAS PROUD OF IT OH LORD

user5: literally my favorite people in the entire universe🫶

user19: still in shock that theyve been married for four years

#f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 smau #f1 social media au #social media au #formula 1 insta au #formula 1 social media au #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel fanfic #sebastian vettel #famous!swift!yn

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yourlazykitkat · 4 months

Text

Hey thanks for checking in, I’m just going crazy on how Scott always resorts to killing himself as a way to level the playing field, give one final advantage to his teammates (double life final with pearl, limited life finale, losing yellow and red life to gem). How his sacrifice is never truly honoured or reciprocated, sometimes becoming an emotional burden for the person he does it for.

Pearl who internalises Scott’s final act of love from double life, coming into this series with the mindset that she will die for her allies. Her fear of being the only one alive and surrounded with the blood of her allies she worked so hard to support. Being denied this chance to be a martyr and then being forced in that final fight to the death once again. Understanding like every other winner, the victory in these death games is not worth it to the point that they would do anything to avoid it. Something scar will realise soon.

Gem, the newest player- one with so much promise. Her eagerness to kill, we all remember that from every player in third life. And the risk-taking, the greed and desperation. Throughout the season, Scott has gifted her hearts and his lives (reluctantly with yellow) with not as much in return (in terms of hearts). Tell me, why did gem have to kill both Scott and impulse? Why not kill one and then let them kill the other? Distribute the hearts properly? It’s because of the instinctual greed of a red life- one that she couldn’t understand the scope of until Scott had only 2 and half hearts. When all he could do was give, and she could only take. Her outrage at the 2v1- god as an audience member who knew that one side agreed to sacrifice because of the odds and the other side didn’t, it felt like a battle deciding which was the better way to love. Gem loses here and moves onto the dead without the consolation that Scott’s sacrifice changed anything.

Scar, who denies Pearl’s offer of sacrifice. Refusing any less than a true fight to the death just like with Grian in the cactus ring. Not having friends this entire season and understanding that he was not the one pearl wanted to give up her life for. As soon as gem dies, he wastes no time attacking pearl despite their alliance because he understands the rules of the game better than anyone- there can only be one winner, the secret keeper demands it. Him, breaking the rules in episode 1, then suffering the consequences for four sessions straight, becoming more isolated and dangerous and eager to please the secret-keeper. Grian, from the dead, telling him that he won as he stands alone. The complete opposite of third life where he wouldn’t have made it to the end without his partner. All he can do now is press succeed.

#I LOVE THE FINAL FIGHT SO MUCH #THEY WERE ALL SO AMAZING #secret life #secret life finale #secret life spoilers #secret life session 9 #goodtimeswithscar #smajor1995 #scott smajor #geminitay #pearlescentmoon #character analysis #I’m not sane rn #don’t touch me I’m crying #desert duo #third life #double life #life series #limited life

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impishjesters · 6 months

Note

I’m devouring the nonsexual intimacy with Jax dawg- oml we eatin good

How would Jax be with an s/o who enjoys leaning on him? I adore physical touch but sometimes if I can’t use my arms it feels like I’m trapped, so it’s nice to just glomp people lmao (s/o is ticklish too- Jax would have a field day with that one)

If you need a little more substance, maybe s/o like randomly serenading Jax in private! Like those old 80s jazz love songs (complete with slow dancing)

Thank you and have a wonderful day/night!

Leaning on one another

warning(s): none unless you count jazz note(s): I joke about it but I actually quite like jazz, maybe not all jazz but it's definitely not the worst type of music. I'm looking at you country music.... A/N: I included a bonus because I thought the idea of cornering this man in his room with jazz music was absolutely hilarious lol

Jax doesn’t have a physical battery per say, but there is definitely a limit to how much he can tolerate at a given time—whether it’s in public or private.

He doesn’t like sitting still for long periods of time and there’s a limit to how vulnerable he’s willing to be at any given time if at all.

So having a s/o that understands this and goes for physical touch like leaning on him or something that’s not inherently seen as romantic and mushy is a win in his book.

Don’t get me wrong, he loves you but it’s a lot and he’s not really used to it. He’s still trying to wrap his head around the fact you two are dating, that you like him.

He’s all for being leaned on or having you loosely hang off him in public, sometimes regardless of what side of him you’re leaning on, he might lean back.

Little shit might only catch himself though if you can’t hold him/he catches you off guard and/or lose your footing, he’ll make the attempt to stick an arm out and catch you—but whether you crash or not depends on your own reflexes. (he doesn’t make the rules, sorry babe)

If you wanna be held but not feel restricted, as long as he’s not doing anything he’ll let you stand in front of him, lean back, and drape his arms over you—totally not to just lean on you and be an absolute menace.

In fact, that’s probably how he found out you were ticklish—and that knowledge is far too much power in his hands.

Sure he can do it whenever he wants, but he tends to save it for other unsuspecting situations—like if the two of you get into a little spat and you’re not speaking to him—two can play that game.

He won’t completely restrict your arms but he’ll throw his arms around you and tickle you, it doesn’t always work to ease whatever the spat was about.

That said Jax doesn’t do it when the situation is serious and calls for an actual discussion, he knows at least that much when it comes to reading the room. (That and you’ve probably gotten onto him about it at least once before…)

He also may or may not have tickled you to get you up, you don’t need to sleep but you can still lie down and whatnot. And if you aren’t budging? Tickle time baby.

Bonus

Jax isn’t a dancer by any means, so when he opens the door to his room to find you standing there with music that’s—very much not the repetitive cartoony music that usually plays in this hellscape—he’s a little surprised.

The first question out of his mouth is:

“Is that fucking jazz?”

“No, just normal jazz.”

That response gets a good hearty chuckle out of him.

When you try pulling him in for a dance he’s a little nervous though it comes off as looking irritated, he’s uh, never danced to jazz of all things let alone with someone else.

You’re gonna have to take the reigns on this one, regardless of whether you can dance or not, you started this.

Despite the fact it is jazz playing, he enjoys the situation as a whole, your weight leaning on him the subtle holding one another. And the fact it’s in private? He can comfortably(ish) let himself feel a little vulnerable around you with no risk of having an audience.

Regardless of the fact it’s jazz, if you happen to sing along he considers himself impressed and will jokingly (read: obnoxiously) comment how he feels utterly serenaded, completely wooed, absolutely swooning—it goes on until you stop him, please stop him he’ll just keep going.

#tadc #the amazing digital circus x reader #tadc jax #the amazing digital circus #jax x reader #jax

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olderthannetfic · 2 months

Note

Getting this off my chest:

Back from a small fanfic hiatus, and I am absolutely flabbergasted by all of the fic authors now practically begging their readers to READ THE TAGS.

I’ve been seeing this warning written in summaries, in author’s notes, highlighted in all caps in the actual tags. I’ve read so many apologies written by authors in the comments in response to people chastising the author for writing what they wanted to write, for what they tagged correctly — for what essentially comes down to nothing more than having had other people actively ignore their tags or read despite them.

And there seems to be this bizarre, somehow largely accepted idea that it is the creators job and responsibility to beseech their readers to ‘use caution’ and to ‘stay safe’, to ‘be mindful of their health’…

I am beyond confused here.

Since when??? did exercising the most basic form of common sense and acknowledging one’s personal yeas and nays, likes and limitations, become some other random stranger’s burden rather than one’s own? And especially a random person who tagged their work correctly??? Does no one remember how to harness their own powers of discernment and self-regulation???

This little jaunt back onto ao3 has been unlike any that I’ve ever experienced before. What. Happened?????? Who is this new, apparently severely emotionally unstable and obstinately tags-reading resistant audience everyone has come to focus on?

It all feels so out of touch. The basic concept of ao3 is for the reader to seek out what they want, not what they don’t want. And to actually read. But there seems to have been an extremely strong shift away from reading. On ao3. A site built specifically for reading and writing. (And other fandom artistic pursuits, but not my focus, atm; though I’m sure whatever this is has crept steadily into all spaces there.)

Plummeting reading comprehension must be somewhat to blame; the popularity of fanfic amongst younger and wider audiences, as well. But… young people have always been there, as far as my own experiences go, and it was never like this. It’s as if too many readers don’t know how to make good or even practical decisions for themselves anymore, that they’ve lost the skill of choosing, and now believe that they must consume everything that passes before them; — that they have, for some reason, adopted the belief that any turmoil or dislike or discomfort felt within themselves is harm purposely being done to them by the author.

Idk. Idk, idk, idk. It’s just such a bummer to see how much nervousness and distress has entered the community. Authors notes and comments used to be hilarious fun, or a peek into someone else’s real-life world, used to be casual and full of personality, whereas nowadays, there seems to be an underlying hesitancy and distrust, a sort of growing divide between writers and readers, groups which, until recently, very much were not mutually exclusive.

Idiots have been around forever. The more you cater to them, the more entitled they get. It's best to shut that shit down fast and use no warnings that indicate a willingness to entertain stupid complaints.

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kayjayjwrites · 14 days

Text

Like Bugs in a Rug: Chapter Two

(Previous Chapter)

Summary: Azriel Shadowsinger, mysterious pretty boy extraordinaire himself, was head over heels in love with you for years. Everyone in the room could see it, except for you of course. A series of connected one-shots.

Chapter Word Count: 7,500

Chapter Content Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst kinda, eventual fluff, anxiety/panic attack, vomit (nothing graphic), Rhysand being an ass, Nesta x Reader friendship, Rhysand slander lol, AFAB Reader, Reader (You), fluff, some details about Reader's appearance but overall vague, canon plot spoilers as this is canon compliant-ish Note: So is this fluff? Debatable. But there is still plenty of Az fluff in it, you just got to work for it a little more this time. You don’t need to read the first chapter to understand what’s going on here, but they are connected!

It took almost three years of employment with the Inner Circle for you to personally encounter the ‘Night Triumphant’ persona. You were not impressed. The most serious you’d seen your cousin was ‘High Lord Rhysand’, the fierce leader, but even that was limited to political business outside of Velaris. More so than not, it was just Rhys, your fun loving, sarcastic friend who so happened to wield an enormous amount of power.

The male sitting at his work desk was not your ‘Rhys’. Hell this wasn’t even High Lord Rhysand. The Night Triumphant held eye contact with you, gaze calculated and stern. You studied the authority in his expression, his mouth drawn into a tight line. Staring him down right back, you waited for the facade to break and reveal the male you had come to know as family. You searched his face for the guy who would rather face Amarantha again than put you in such a precarious situation. The very situation that plagued you with consistent nightmares since you left Hewn City.

You did not find that male.

Your gaze flitted to Mor, her body draped in a leather armchair off to the side, hoping to find a trace of humor in her expression. She tried to look nonchalant, but there was a sharp edge to her that betrayed her own trepidation.

Nesta stood an arm’s length away from you, uncharacteristically quiet in the wake of your High Lord’s orders. She seemed as if she was waiting to see who would escalate things first. Rhysand had summoned the three of you to his office to brief everyone on an upcoming…obligation. He prefaced the meeting by saying that he knew it wasn’t an ideal assignment. He wasn’t asking if you wanted to do it, it was non negotiable.

In two months time, you, Nesta, and Mor would be answering a summons to Hewn City. Kier had been requesting a personal audience with you for the last year. Mor and Rhysand could no longer postpone it, as you were a Night Court Courtier afterall.

Still, you did not want to believe that Rhys would ask this of you. “You’re kidding, right? This isn’t very funny, Rhysand.”

“I know you can tell that I am not joking.” His flinty tone brook no argument.

Any hope of reasoning with the Night Triumphant withered away. He summoned you to his office well aware that you wouldn’t take kindly to being sent back. Here you’d been thinking Rhysand understood your trauma best, having been held captive and used while Under the Mountain.

It appeared that you had misjudged him.

Just as you were about to say as much, Mor spoke up for the first time since the meeting started. “Kier threatened mutiny at the last Council meeting. At first he demanded a private audience, even after I informed him of our bargain. When we still refused to send you by yourself despite his threats, he agreed on these terms. You and Nesta because you’re a team, and me because I oversee The Court of Nightmares anyway. He couldn’t argue with that logic.”

You felt like you were going to be sick. After 300 years of being nothing but a tool for your father, the idea of seeing Kier’s face again so soon had your lunch sitting heavy in your stomach. It was inevitable, he thought you were loyal to him, his spy on the inside. You had zero idea how you were going to handle a reunion with him, simply thinking about it made you short of breath.

Your nights were plagued with stress dreams about what it would be like to return to your old home. You avoided stewing on the topic during your waking hours. The inevitability of it all often sent you spiraling, you couldn’t ghost Kier forever, but you thought you had more time. There was no fucking way you were ready. “I can’t do this,” You said, “give me any other assignment, and I’ll do it. Just not this.”

“You can,” Rhysand enunciated each word, slow and deliberate, like he wasn’t sure you would understand him, “and you will.”

Oh hell no. You did not uproot your entire life to be spoken to like that. “Do not speak to me like a child, Rhysand–”

“Then stop acting like one,” he scolded, like you were the one being unreasonable, “this is your duty to your court, what I pay you to do. If you won’t do what needs to be done to protect your court then we don’t have a place for you here.”

Rhysand’s words hit like a blow. Your sharp intake of breath was echoed by both Nesta and Mor, but you couldn’t see them, they might as well have not been there, your world shrinking down to Rhysand as he regarded you coldly.

“So what will it be?” He addressed you, leaning forward over his desk, leering, “will you do as your High Lord asks of you, or will you be resigning today?” He pressured.

Your hands fisted, ire rising up so fast it made your eyes sting with unshed tears. If you got kicked out of Velaris you’d undoubtedly end up back in Hewn City. And you couldn’t let that happen, not after you finally got a taste of freedom.

Rhysand may like to believe himself better than Kier, but how was this any different from how Kier treated you? Was this your destiny? Undeserving of kindness unless you proved your worth?

What about you made people forget that you were a living, breathing being? Just like everyone else in the room, you had feelings that mattered, and hopes for your future. You’d been stripped of your freewill for the first three centuries of your life. It was a wonder that you hadn’t gone mad.

Were you only allowed a taste of freedom? Was that Rhysand’s plan all along? Get you hooked on life in Velaris then dangle it in front of you like you were a simple mule, your freedom the carrot held just out of reach.

It made your blood boil.

“My apologies.” You sneered at him, gone was the meek, conditioned wallflower. You meant all the disrespect. In a dramatic flourish you bowed low to Rhysand, making sure he saw your contempt for him when he met your gaze.

You maintained direct eye contact as you hissed harsh sarcasm at him, “I am at your disposal, High Lord.”

Rhysand’s eyes flared with something dark and aggressive. Time slowed, a pulse of his power cresting over you in a suffocating wave, a preview of how oppressive he could make it if he so wished. Dread replaced your anger, the confidence you’d displayed moments ago dissipating. You struggled to not show how he had shaken you, and by some miracle, you stood your ground. Still, he could probably hear your heart pounding from where he sat.

Amidst the theatrics, your own power had not been so keen on backing down. It had coiled around you like a viper ready to strike, protective, as Rhysand’s prowling darkness prodded your boundaries.

This version of Rhysand left you stricken, unable to reconcile the egregious behavior with the male you’d had breakfast with just that morning. It felt like his power was tearing you in half, and he wasn’t even exerting himself. He looked bored.

Did you escape the clutches of one villain, only to run into the hands of another? Were you really that foolish?

Mor stepped into your field of vision, mouthing something at you. You hadn’t realized your ears were ringing until the shrill noise faded enough for you to hear her calling your name. The frantic quality of her voice snapped you out of whatever daze Rhysand’s power had cast on you.

Right. Nesta and Mor had witnessed that entire thing. You’d forgotten about their presence in the heat of the moment, your attention tunnel visioned on Rhysand. He had humiliated you in front of some of the most important people in your life. The only thing that could have made it worse was if Azriel had been there too.

Intense embarrassment flooded you, a seed of distrust taking root deep in your heart. You felt so stupid, thinking you could trust Rhysand and his Inner Circle. Mor was still trying to get your attention, but you stared right past her, looking at Rhysand like you hated him.

Hell. Maybe you did.

Mor called your name once more with urgency, moving closer to you, half turned so she hadn’t given her back to her High Lord, but solely focused on you. “It’s the best we could do without inciting a civil war.” She tried to clarify, emphasizing on the ‘we’ as she gestured between herself and Rhysand.

“You have to know we wouldn’t put you in this position if we had any other choice. I personally promised I would never leave you alone in that city again, and there is nothing our father can say or do to make me break that promise to you. We will do this together.”

Rhysand’s power had receded, but you could still feel it loitering like a watchdog. Something you’d never imagined Rhys doing to you before the meeting. He’d always spun such pretty promises about your future in Velaris, and you believed him.

And now Mor was doing the same exact thing. More pretty promises, but no proof of her intentions to follow through with them.

Mor’s shoulders visibly sagged, “If you don’t believe me, then look.” She pleaded, offering her mind up for you to read.

You physically recoiled at her suggestion. “I will do no such thing!” You spat back in disgust, “You are my sister, this is supposed to be my family. I will not taint our relationship with my powers in a moment of weakness. You may not return the same respect, but I refuse to surround myself with people I can’t trust without rummaging around their mind for their truths first.”

Unlike some males went unsaid as you fumbled to tone it down for Mor. Your problem was not with her, and she didn’t deserve your harsh words. “I can’t…I won’t….I–”

Frustrated with yourself, you took a steadying breath, emotion burning behind your eyes. Despite your best effort to keep composed, your voice quivered, “I will not be like our father.”

The room was stunned silent, Mor regarded you with sadness, lips parting to respond, but then pursing closed in a tight line.

Rhysand was the one to break the silence. His power dispersed as he leaned back in his chair, acting like he hadn’t just wound you up tight enough to fracture you into pieces.

“So you accept the assignment then?” He inquired, brushing nonexistent lint from the cuff of his dress shirt.

His lack of remorse irked you. Did he not think he could have handled the situation better? Was this how he treated everyone in the Inner Circle? The list of things you wanted clarification on kept growing, so instead you settled on, “Yes.”

“I’m glad we could come to an agreement then.” He drawled, “We will go over details and strategy another time, when we are all more composed.”

You wanted to punch him in his goddamn face.

“For now, this meeting is dismissed.”

As soon as he finished speaking you stormed out of his office, nearly colliding with Nesta in your haste to get away from Rhysand. Originally you were going to visit the library after the meeting. Nesta had suggested a book for you to read, and you wanted to read it so you had something to talk to her about. But you were too worked up to do that now, you needed to get out of there.

You didn’t care where you ended up, so long as you put as much distance between you and Rhysand as possible.

XxXx

By step 174 your blurry vision cleared a smidge, too out of breath to cry for the moment. You didn’t have anyone to help you leave The House of Wind, so you took to the 10,000 stairs with the expectation of someone eventually coming to find you. There was no way in hell you’d actually be able to reach the bottom. You began the descent down the spiraling staircase so fast It was a marvel that you didn’t trip.

Any time you slowed down Rhysand’s words would play on loop in your head. The only way to drown it out was to pick up the pace, the exertion elevating your heart rate enough for it to overpower that nasty voice in the back of your head. If you ran fast enough the only thing you could concentrate on was counting the steps you took.

239 steps down, and you had no choice but to slow down to a more reasonable pace. It was a warm day, and you were getting dizzy. The last thing you wanted to do was pass out. In a desperate attempt to keep your mind occupied as you caught your breath you focused on the breeze cooling the sweat beading up on your forehead. You listened to the slap of your bare feet on the smooth, sun-warmed stone. You thought of the color of the sandals you left behind at the very top of the stairs. You pondered on which step you’d discarded your blouse on after it began to cling to your sweaty skin.

Your guess was step 148.

You hit the first landing platform at step 250, slowing to a walk as you panted, hands propped against your hips as you counted your next few steps. Woozy, you let your eyes fall closed for a moment, but the image of Kier sitting in his throne room beckoning you forward flashed across your mind. You flinched so hard you accidentally opened your eyes looking directly into the sun.

It felt like your head had a heartbeat of its own, vision blotching from the brightness. You didn’t know how your day could get any more bleak as you rapidly blinked the disorienting dots away. Glimpses of The Court of Nightmares throne room lurking behind every blink, Kier looked more like Rhysand each time you closed your eyes.

It made your stomach lurch, and you whimpered around a dry heave.

A particularly strong gust of wind ruffled through your hair, and you can almost hear Azriel’s voice reminding you to focus on your other senses. Your mind can lie to you, but it’s much harder for all your senses to be tricked at the same time.

The sunlight, the ever-present wind, the sound of birds, the smell of fresh air. Let nature ground you.

It just wasn’t enough. You’d only paused for a few moments, but your chest began to feel too tight for your lungs, anxiety squeezing the air out of you before you could properly inhale it. Two months. Just two measly months to figure out what the hell you were going to say to Kier–to your mom, after you’d gone no contact for almost 3 years. Two months to not be petrified of somehow getting trapped down there again.

So you continued down the stairs, pushing yourself harder.

251. 252. 253. Counting them like Azriel had taught you.

It had been after your first dinner with the Inner Circle at the House of Wind. Mor was a little too tipsy to winnow home safely, so the both of you decided it best to share a guest room. You were feeling antsy, Mor having fallen asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

The House of Wind was so different from Hewn City. Cozy and surprisingly casual in decor, but it was carved out of the side of a mountain. With the curtains drawn, in the dark quiet of the night, it almost felt like your bedroom in The Court of Nightmares.

You had thought a glass of water would do you some good, help you settle enough to get some rest. So you set out for the kitchen, taking care to walk quietly so as to not wake anyone. The hallway led to a flight of stairs, which brought you to more hallways that seemed to stretch on, and on, and on. The homey decor fell away, your balance wobbling with the sudden onset of vertigo. Closing your eyes didn’t help, dizzy and disoriented, everything felt like it was tipped on its axis. You couldn’t place where you were, where you were going, just that you were alone. Fear flooded your senses, and you swore you smelled the dank air of the streets of Hewn City like you were still there.

Azriel found you slumped against the wall on shaky legs, your pulse pounding so hard in your ears you couldn’t hear what he was saying to you. The touch of his rough hands on your bare arms was soothing enough to bring you back to yourself. You weren’t walking the streets of Hewn City. You weren’t alone. Azriel had you.

Each inhale had still felt like you were gulping in freezing cold water, your breath coming in irregular gasps. You thought you were going to die in that hallway, suffocating on fucking air.

Azriel took you to the training grounds on the rooftop of all places. You can still remember the brightness of the full moon that night as he coached you through breathing exercises. Then, coaxed you into walking laps with him around the perimeter of the huge training grounds. He counted each step aloud with you until you had calmed enough to tell him what the hell had happened.

And that was how you and the Shadowsinger bonded over Claustrophobia. An unfortunate thing to have in common, an even more unfortunate first thing to find you had in common.

In the moments after you’d come down from your panic attack you wanted to svirel up and fade away, so thoroughly embarrassed. But now, you thanked The Mother for sending Azriel to find you that night.

It was those same coping skills that led you to working out your anxiety after the meeting. 290 steps away from The House of Wind, and you were sure your legs were going to give out if you kept pushing yourself. You came to a slow stop, soles of both your feet planted on the same stair. Lulling your head back so your face was to the cloudless sky, you closed your eyes and pictured that moment with Azriel. Instead of Kier morphing into Rhysand, you saw Azriel walking laps with you around the moonlit training grounds.

You basked in the breeze against your face, your anger and fear still roiling in your stomach, but no longer all consuming. The relief was short lived, a concentrated pang of despair reared its ugly head, raw hurt so overwhelming it chased the warm memories with Azriel away. It made you so tired, so emotionally drained you felt it in the marrow of your bones. You wanted to just let go, collapse in a heap and never get up again.

Yet, by some stroke of willpower, you remained on your feet. You hadn’t warmed up before taking on the stairs, and you could already feel soreness settling into your muscles. Gingerly you sat yourself down on the steps, resting your elbows on your thighs as you rubbed your hands over your face, spreading fresh tears across the top of your cheeks.

If you won’t do what needs to be done to protect your court then we don’t have a place for you here. Rhysand’s words burned the part of you that had always suspected as much. There was this nasty little voice that lived in the back of your head. It would mock you when you were too content in calling this place home.

You wondered if that voice would start to sound like Rhysand.

The thought broke your heart a little bit more. You wanted so badly to make him proud, to earn your place in the Inner Circle, prove that they hadn’t made a mistake taking you in. The worst part was that you thought you were doing good. Not that you’d believed yourself to be one of them, you were still so new, but you thought…you thought…

You don’t know what you fucking thought.

Curling into yourself, your knees tucked in close to your chest, you made yourself as small as possible. The full body trembling made your sobs shaky, your entire being wobbled from the weight of your failure, your naivety. This was what you got for wanting to do it the right way. You’d never built relationships without relying on your powers to sniff out their loyalty beforehand, never truly trusted on your own violation.

Your father always thought it was a stupid risk to take when you could know for sure. You thought it was an awfully lonely way to live, to never trust fully. Perhaps you’d been wrong.

This was what you get, you silly girl. Kier’s voice taunted from the back of your mind. Or was that Rhysand’s voice? Did the difference even matter anymore?

The telltale sound of approaching footsteps closed in on you from behind, you couldn’t tell who it was, all you could smell was the salt of your own tears. Maybe it was one of them coming to take you out of your misery, maybe Rhysand took your display in his office as a sign of disloyalty.

The killing blow never came, so you glanced up to see Nesta taking a seat next to you. The last person you expected to come looking for you if you were being honest.

She didn’t look at you right away, which you appreciated. You were humiliated enough without her seeing you wiping your own snot on your forearm. Her icy stare was focused on the view, the only indication that she had run to catch up with you, a few fly away hairs having been jostled loose from her braids.

“You were pretty hard to catch up to, you know,” She leaned back, supporting her weight on her hands against the step behind her, “for someone who doesn’t regularly train, at least.”

Her attempt at humor, which earlier in the day would have made you indignant, fell flat. Instead inciting a new wave of tears to fall past your lash line. You dropped your head lower to hide it from her, but it did little to smother the sound of your quivering breath.

She didn’t try again, and her presence grew awkward when you didn’t try either, but she stayed next to you regardless.

When it became apparent that she would stay by your side unless you sent her away, you found your words. “What if I can’t do it,” You croaked out, voice absolutely wrecked, “Face my father, return underground? What if I can’t do what’s expected of me? What if it’s too much, too soon? What if I lose everything because I’m not strong enough.” Will never be strong enough.

“Then we will figure it out,” Nesta answered without hesitation, “Together.”

You are alone. That damned voice insisted.

“But Rhysand said–”

“I know what Rhysand said.” Nesta hissed, and you startled, your bloodshot eyes meeting hers for the first time since she arrived. She looked pissed, lips pursed in a scowl as if the High Lord was right in front of her. “Rhysand is an insensitive jackass. He won’t send you away because you messed up one job.”

“How can you know that?” You whispered, already knowing that she couldn’t know for sure.

“Because I’ve pissed him off by doing far worse, and I’m still here.”

You shook your head at her reasoning, not good enough, she can’t know for sure. “You're his mate’s sister, and Cassian’s mate. He can’t exile you.”

“And you're The Morrigan’s sister, and his own cousin.” Nesta deadpanned. “You’re not going to get exiled over a visit to The Court of Nightmares.”

“How can you possibly know that?!” You shouted, one of your hands clutching the fabric of your sweat soaked chest binding as your heart ached. Frantic to believe her, but knowing that you just couldn’t.

“Because Rhysand hates me, we barely tolerate each other on good days. He once threatened to banish me to the human continent,” she rebuked, hands flying about as she grew impassioned, “He loves you. He’s just an overpowered ass on a power trip. You questioned his authority and it hurt his fragile little ego. And even if he was stupid enough to try to cast you out, the rest of the Inner Circle would never let that happen.”

Your nerves were fucking shot. Whatever remained of your bravado frayed with every hagrid breath, it was impossible to stay focused. It was like your powers were waiting for you to be distracted, taking the opportunity to thrash against your mental shields. You didn’t know if it was skill keeping your powers in check, or dumb luck.

Your headache spread across your temples, sharp pain panging behind your eyes. You were already so tired, but the tears would not stop coming. That damned voice, still whispering its poison, adding to the agony. Nesta can’t know for sure, but you could if you just gave in.

You looked Nesta over, her relaxed body language at odds with the determined fire in her eyes. She left herself wide open, she wouldn’t even know if you read her. You’d be in control, your fate wouldn’t be left up to a gamble.

Nesta tried to meet your gaze, and you squeezed your eyes shut, turning away from her. It was impossible for you to think with her piercing stare studying you. What reason did Nesta even have to care about what happened to you? She didn’t say shit while Rhysand was ripping your world apart, and yet she showed up here? To do what exactly?

There was a dull ringing in your ears as your power surged against your restraint, and maybe you screamed, maybe you didn’t. Your fingers went up into your hair, fisting at your roots as you pulled, rocking yourself back and forth because it would be so easy.

And maybe if you gave in, that stupid voice would stop.

Nesta called your name, “I wouldn’t let Rhysand kick you out of Velaris.”

The cry you let out sounded almost feral. “I don’t know that!” .

“No, you don’t,” Nesta acquiesced, “but do you trust me?”

Did you trust Nesta? The question cut you into you like the edge of a knife, your heart answering with a resounding yes.

Wow, did you want that to be true. But that sinister voice oozed like an oil slick in the back of your head. Will you do as your High Lord asks of you, or will you be resigning today? You had trusted Rhysand too.

Even if Nesta wanted you here, did you think she would disobey her High Lord for you? You didn’t know, not for sure. Your power reared up again, and your head pounded at the onslaught. That oily voice so loud it was all you could hear. You could know.

“I-I don’t know.” You stammered, stomach churning into grotesque knots.

“Do you trust yourself?” Nesta continued her line of questioning.

That answer came to you quick, no, and it had you lurching forward, your balance lost as you scraped your knees sliding down a couple stairs. You wretched, violent heaves as your stomach emptied out on the stairs in front of you.

No. You didn’t trust yourself.

“There was a time where I didn’t trust myself either.” It was like you weren’t barfing up your guts right in front of her, Nesta spoke with such calm. “Didn’t let anyone close enough to trust, even myself, I didn’t know how.”

You wretched again, your hair getting in the way. Gentle fingers gathered the stray pieces that had fallen from your updo. You hadn’t heard her move over to you, but she was there, steadying you as you struggled through a bout of dry heaving. If you weren’t so miserable, the tenderness coming from Nesta would have shocked the hell out of you.

Her free hand rubbed soothing circles into your back as she continued her tale. “I hated myself,” Nesta confided, voice raspy with emotion, “so much that I drank myself stupid every night to escape the darkness of my own thoughts.”

Now, the random heart to heart did shock you.

Three years of trying to connect with the enigma that was Nesta Archeon. Three years of getting redirected when you asked something too deep. The most you got out of Nesta was what she liked to read, so you picked up reading just to have a reason to approach her outside of assignments. Three years of one sided heart to hearts, evaded personal questions, and turned down sleepover invitations.

And she decided that now was the proper time to trauma dump on you? While you were half dressed, ugly crying with vomit in your hair?

What a baffling female. The confusion helped you relax, so surprised you were by Nesta’s sudden urge to share. Her hand kept a slow, steady rhythm as she continued to rub gentle circles onto your back, you hadn’t realized how tensed you’d been until muscles you didn’t even know you had started going lax.

Whatever Nesta was doing, it was working. So you basked in the comfort her touch provided and listened.

“Someone taught me how to acknowledge those thoughts and let them go. To breathe, and still everything else in my mind, and let my mind think those things, but to not dwell, because that dark self loathing didn’t define me.”

The dark self loathing didn’t define you. Her words chipped at something that had been left festering for far too long. Had that been it all along, that terrible voice in the back of your head, had it been self loathing?

“Give yourself permission to feel, acknowledge it, and let it go.”

And it was so liberating, giving a name to what had been festering under your skin. Hate. Disgust. Cowardice. You cried, but not the agonized, tortured type of wails that had crippled you moments ago. This was a release, the type of ugly cry you do when something you didn’t know was broken starts to heal.

You hated yourself. And that was okay, because as you waited for that awful voice to mock you, it never did. You hated yourself, wept so hard you thought your eyes were going to fall out of your skull, but you had never felt lighter.

Nesta found your hand, gentle at first as if giving you time to pull away. Then she held onto you like the simple touch could convey what you were worth to her. “You are the rock against which the surf crashes. Nothing can break you.” She whispered, but the words resonated like she had shouted them at you.

The smile started as a small twitch at the corners of your mouth, but you knew Nesta saw it all the same. You searched for that dreadful voice, waited for it to speak something dreadful, but the quip never came. The smile that bloomed on your cheeks was wide with astonish.

You couldn’t believe it, after 300+ years of letting that nasty voice ruin you, there was peace. In its place was something new and bright.

Hope.

XxXx

The sound of beating wings announced the arrival of Cassian and Azriel a moment before the weight of their landing sent vibrations through the hard stone of the staircase. The two hulking Illyrian warriors made quick work of the walk up the stairs, their casual conversation trailing off once they were within earshot of you and Nesta.

“Ness!” Cassian’s voice boomed in greeting, cheery and boisterous, “I see why you asked for me to bring Azriel now. Here I thought you were acting on your ‘secret’ fantasies finally. The location left something to be desired, but I wasn’t going to be picky.”

Nesta sat shoulder to shoulder with you, so close, you felt her stiffen at Cassian’s offbeat comment. If you weren’t so drained, you’d be cross with her for summoning more witnesses, but the idea of having to walk back up all those steps upset you far more. The adrenaline high from your anxiety had long worn off, and without its numbing effect, you weren’t sure if you could even stand without your legs wobbling.

Nesta sighed, deep and long suffering, but affectionate nonetheless. “Your inability to read the room will always astound me.”

“Good thing we’re outside, there is no–” Cassian’s breath hitched, now close enough to get a good look at your downcast expression, haggard appearance, and odd attire. You were careful to keep your emotions under control, unwilling to let anyone in the Inner Circle see you in such a vulnerable state. Years of cautious composer, wasted, all because of a meeting that lasted less than 30 minutes. You expected disapproval, your emotions had only been met with ridicule in the past, but the apparent emotions flying across Cassian’s face were anything but cold.

Worry. Guilt. Unease. Cassian’s emotions were so boldly displayed, you didn’t need your powers to disconcert them.

Cassian paused in his ascent as he looked you over for injury, but Azriel closed the distance in the time it took you to blind away the tingle of the latest round of tears. Their concern was almost palatable, and being shown that type of care felt too good to be real.

These males had no reason to care so much, Nesta had no tangible reason to care so much. You were so… you, so replaceable and plain. You breathed through the thought, let it roll over you, maybe that was why they cared so much, because you are you. It had never occurred to you that you were someone worth caring for. Not when your own father never cared. Certainly not after Rhysand gave you the ultimatum to get useful or get out.

You are the rock against which the surf crashes. Nothing can break you. Nesta’s words repeated in your head, sending a zing of determination down your spine.

“What happened? Are you hurt?” Azriel crouched down, his chest siphon reflecting the late afternoon sun. His questions made you feel queasy, but his presence soothed over you like a balm. This male simultaneously was the person you worried about disappointing most, and the person you felt most safe being vulnerable around.

Unlike with Nesta, you didn’t struggle with facing Azriel. He was inspecting the grime covered scrapes on your bare toes. “Where are your shoes?” He asked you, puzzled as he then took note of your sweat soaked bra, “and your shirt?”

A dark look passed over him, if his shadows could withstand the direct sunlight, you were sure they��d be writhing around you. He spoke your name like a whispered prayer, desperate. His gloved hands hesitated as he reached out to cup your face, only smoothing his thumbs over your cheeks when you didn’t jerk away, “please look at me,” and you did, meeting his amber eyes as he wiped remnant tear stains from your cheeks, “Did someone try to hurt you?”

You knew what he meant, but your explanation caught in your throat. A brief moment of shame overwhelmed you, because here you were blubbering over some harsh words from your High Lord, when people suffered far worse fates than your own every day. Azriel began to tense, an icy cold rage taking form as he mistook your silence as an affirmative.

You shook your head ‘no’, hating the troubling turmoil you had unintentionally sowed in him. His shoulders sagged, the sign of his relief so slight, many would have missed it. It was all it took for the remaining threads of your thin composure to snap.

Azriel all but scooped you into his arms as tears blurred your vision, and you crumbled into him, no further prompting needed. He held you so tight, it was like he was trying to hold all your pieces together for you. His wings flared to keep his balance, and maybe later you’d feel sheepish about almost tipping him backwards down those unforgiving stairs, but you relished in the comfort his strength brought you.

“I-I was–It was–” You couldn’t string the sentence together, “We were…I was–” you tried again but your breathing was off, your thoughts all jumbled, and Blessed Mother, you couldn’t do it again. Any words you’d thought about trying to say morphed into sobs, barely audible, but you couldn’t hide the way your body shook with them.

“Rhysand happened.” Nesta asserted, sparing what was left of your dignity by cutting off your senseless stuttering. She summarized the meeting, but touched on the major points that had triggered your anxiety. She was gentle with the recollection of your part in the meeting, scathingly critical of Rhysand.

“When I left Rhysand’s office, The Morrigan was getting in his face, and as much as I would have loved to see how that went down, it felt wrong to not check in with you.” Nesta explained like she was coming clean, “ I asked the house where you were.”

It was about as close to an apology you’d ever get from Nesta. You knew from experience that Nesta took her time warming to people, preferring to mind her business and stay out of Inner Circle drama. Once she’d made an offhand comment about being the center of the drama enough to last her the rest of her fae lifetime.

Keeping your head rested on Azriel’s shoulder, you turned your face to the side so your voice was less muffled, “Thank you,” your words carried on the wind, paper thin, frail, but so heartfelt, “for following me.”

Nesta didn’t respond, and you didn’t dare look at her out of fear of getting weepy again. But you felt it all the same, a shift in the relationship between the two of you. Like a bridge branching out, a new understanding solidified in place, and you knew Nesta had felt it too.

You shifted in Azriel’s arms, intending on testing your strength, but his arms tensed to keep you in place. In one graceful movement that had your head spinning, Azriel stood up right, adjusting to support your weight in a bridal hold.

“How about we get you home and clean you up?” Azriel suggested, loud enough for the others to hear, but the question aimed at you.

Home. As in the apartment you shared with Mor. He had called Velaris your home.

Your heart gave a painful throb, all choked up again at the sentiment. Going home sounded like the most splendid thing in the whole world in that moment. You didn’t want to think about Rhysand or Hewn City anymore, you wanted to go home so much it hurt.

There was some rustling, Cassian coming to stand near Nesta. “Wanna race me back up to the house?” His words were muffled as if his lips were pressed into the crown of Nesta’s head. “Winner gets head.”

The swift resounding slap Cassian received almost made things seem normal.

“Are you two good?” Nesta ignored Cassian’s taunting, and you nodded at the same time Azriel responded with, “Yes, I’ve got her.”

A beat passed in silence, all four of you waiting to see if anyone added anything else. Then rapid footsteps took off up the stairs, and you popped your head up from the crook near Azriel’s underarm to see Nesta sprinting up the stairs.

“Hey!” Cassian bellowed, charging after her, “cheaters never prosper, Nesta!”

“Prove it, you overgrown bat!”

If you weren’t about ready to pass out from exhaustion, you would have laughed at their antics. Azriel was watching them, an unguarded fondness in his hazel eyes you rarely got to see. The two of you stayed like that, Azriel watching his friends, you committing his soft expression to memory. By the time Azriel glanced down to you, Cassian had overtaken Nesta’s lead, their figures dots in the distance.

You were a melted puddle of female in his arms, all tension and stress slipping from your muscles as your eyelids drooped. Try as you might, you couldn’t keep your eyes open for another second. Paranoia nagged at you, fear of what you’d see when you finally rested your eyes.

Nothing. Blissful darkness. Peace.

“I’m going to take off now. Loop your arms around my neck and hold on tight, okay? Once we get up high enough, the rest of the flight will be smooth.”

You did as you were told, any other time you would have been a nervous wreck, but you didn’t have it in you to fret. You’d always winnowed with someone, even learning how to land the drop through the wards when Mor winnowed with you to the House of Wind. You’d thought no one had noticed how you avoided the topic, but surprise surprise, Azriel had noticed.

The thought of being up that high in the sky and dropped sure made your pulse spike. Growing up in an Underground City meant your feet were always planted on the ground. So maybe it wasn’t a stretch to claim that you weren’t a fan of heights, you’d never flown with anyone before, but it would make a lot of damn sense.

Your musing was cut short. Azriel launched straight up into the sky, powerful wings effortlessly gaining momentum and speed. You clung to him, hands clasped together around his neck in a death grip, screaming bloody murder the entire ascend. Although you would deny it if anyone asked.

Things evened out once Azriel felt he was high enough, setting a leisure pace towards what you assumed to be the direction of Mor’s apartment. Your eyes were squeezed shut, wind whipping your hair out of what was left of your updo, tossing it across your face.

You must have been quite the sight, if the amusement in Azriel’s voice was any indication. “Are you going to look at the view?”

Your hair was a disheveled mess across your face, the wind burned your already sore eyes when you tried to pry them open. “Even if I wanted to, I can’t keep my eyes open,” It was probably beautiful, but you didn’t want to push your luck, you’d had enough panic attacks for the day, “Luckily, I don’t want to.”

He chuckled. “Next time then.”

Blame it on the fatigue, but you found yourself nodding in agreement. Something you may come to regret when he urges you to fly with him instead of winnowing the next time you travel together.

But maybe it won’t be so bad, if Azriel was the one carrying you. With your eyes closed, ear pressed to his chest, his steady heartbeat lulled the residual tension and anxiety away until all you felt was the security of his arms. You could almost forget that you were hundreds of feet off the ground.

In Azriel’s care, it was easy to relax, he wouldn’t let anything bad happen. It was in that half dozing state, snuggled up as close as you could get to him, that your sleepy mind realized moments like these were the ones you wanted to remember.

Ultimately, Rhysand’s nasty words were a small part of your day. The majority of your time was spent with Nesta, bonding with her in a way you’d never managed previously. Something that would have never happened if Rhysand hadn’t been a dick.

Yeah. You’d much rather remember the day as the Nesta heart-to-heart incident. Or the first time you flew with Azriel.

Drifting into a deeper sleep, you dreamt of the way Cassian’s laughter echoed with joy as he chased after Nesta up the stairs. You dreamt of soaring through the clouds with Azriel, the same fondness you’d seen in his eyes for Cassian and Nesta, but aimed at you.

It may take you the rest of your life, but you would replace all the trauma muddying up your memories with new memories you wanted to remember. New memories filled with laughter, affection, trust, and adventure.

One day at a time.

Rhysand could go pound sand though.

XxXx

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter (coming soon)

A/N: Don't worry the next part is going to be more like the first chapter. There will be like two more chapters sprinkled in that have a more serious tone, but the rest will be fluff, drama, and tomfoolery a plenty. Stay tuned for cheeky Cassian in the next update!!

Tag List: @f4iry-bell @jediknightjana @microwaveallthedemons @olive-main

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @5onedirection5

@brieflyclassymortal @hauntedstudentobservationus

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fluff #Like Bugs in a Rug #my writing #kayjaywrites #nesta archeron #the morrigan #a court of thorns and roses #rhysand #cassian

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fairmerthefarmer · 1 month

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Some warm up sketches cause I have a whole lot of ideas for HTTYD illustrations/fanart but I need to remember how to draw these guys. (Hiccups hair is so baffling to me to figure out the shapes and have it look right)

My sister and I have very suddenly decided to rewatch the spin-off shows for HTTYD (not that weird new one, just the ones set in between the first two movies)

I love so much how they expand on the dragon lore but also on the side characters!! Ive got my things about the shows I’d critique, but overall it’s just such a good time.

Also I first watched RTTE in highschool (I remember finding it, binging all the episodes available in a night and being left right at the cliffhanger in season 3) and I was embarrassed about it. I think mostly because the animation style is visibly cheaper than the movies? So it looks more made for children (I mean the target audience still is kids, but also probably young teens so me at the time) (also watching it now despite the budget limits I’m loving the lighting in particular) (rtte improved visually a lot over RoB especially.)

It’s always fun to go back to the things you liked when you were younger and maybe embarrassed but then it’s like “oh actually I had good taste sometimes this is fucking great”

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thesiltverses · 23 days

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Hello! I found the silt verses about three weeks ago and have listened to it several times since. I have a few things to say.

I absolutely adore that episode about the national grid workers. I think it’s my favorite episode of any podcast I’ve ever listened to. My favorite part of that first episode Paige is in is how she justifies not standing up for Vaughn, that cognitive dissonance that you wrote so well. This episode gives me what I wanted from that episode, the workers all banding together to stop the wasteful sacrifice of one of them. The actor who played the foreman did an incredible job as well. I think that having him discuss which of his workers he would sacrifice was such a significant moment, despite how brief it is. It cuts right to the big question that I took away from the podcast which is, “How much is someone willing to sacrifice in order to maintain their comfort?” And the utter disrespect of Glodditch (apologies for the spelling) refusing to cancel even the radio but asking grid workers to kill themselves for 200kw/h! Top tier episode.

I grew up in the south and went to college in Appalachia. I saw the disparity in technology and “advancement” if that makes sense that poverty brings, and the way you set up the world invokes that feeling in me again. You are an amazing world builder and storyteller.

I really enjoyed the cameos - I’m a big fan of malevolent/devisor, Old gods of Appalachia, and all of Jonny sims work, so hearing familiar voices was an absolute delight. Harlan Guthrie as an acolyte of the snuff gods might have been a bit too on the nose with some of the things that man writes, though… /pos

I’m transmasculine, and something that I really appreciate is how you manage to make a trans man do some objectively awful things, but still manage to make him a complex, full character that I was rooting for very frequently. Brother Faulkner is so, so important to me as a character. Paula Vogel has a play called “Indecent,” which is about the true story of a troupe of I believe German Jewish actors between the years of 1910ish and 1940s putting on a show called “God of Vengeance” by Sholem Asch, also a Jewish man. “God of Vengeance” has queer themes and received a lot of criticism from the Jewish community for showing Jewish folks in a “bad” light at a time when there was already so much hatred for Jewish people. Brother Faulkner being as complex and, in my opinion, malicious and cutthroat as he is at a time when trans people face so much bigotry, especially legislatively in the United States, brings this conversation about “God of Vengeance” up again for me. I also love how normalized non-binary people are in this world, without question. “Sibling this or that,” the hunter, adjudicator Shrew - big thanks from me for all of this.

All of this to say, I love this podcast. Can you talk more about the rhetorical gods? Is Babble one? What makes them one if they are, or why aren’t they? I’m fascinated by them. Can you talk more about the propaganda gods too?

Thank you so much for the thoughtful and kind words!

I'll check out Indecent, it sounds really interesting and I'm very glad to hear Faulkner works for you as a character. I think the topic of how to include and write queer characters who are capable of terrible things and thoughts (because, after all, these characters are human beings and not tutelary exemplars), within the context of both a rising movement of transphobia right now and centuries-old scapegoating / pathologising portrayals more generally, is a really knotty but a really important one, and I always want to make sure I'm approaching it with care and due responsibility as well as a sense of humility around the limitations of what, as a cis writer, I can actually achieve.

To that end, I don't want to ever take the audience response for granted, but I'm always really grateful to hear that the portrayal is working for a listener!

Propaganda gods: gods whose prayer-marks or ritual verses are fed directly to the enemy, enforcing destructive or sabotaging changes to reality (so rather than sending a destructive saint or angel to rampage over the foe, you might drop pamphlets or send radio messages to the enemy to 'convert' them).

Rhetorical gods: gods whose followers possess reality-warping powers of language itself (which is why 'rhetorical god' is a polite way of saying 'liar's god'). In other words, the paranoia around them comes partly down to the fact that a disciple like Val may appear to be a limitless shaper of new forms, rather than shaped into a limited form of their own, as a result of their worship.

#carmen maria machado has a fun mini-essay about queer villainous portrayals which I do recommend

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shannonsketches · 4 months

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I noticed that the element of the triforce that the individual characters are supposed to represent, is also their weakness. Zelda's wisdom is being stifled by doubt and lack of experience; she's eager to learn, but her zeal is not enough and relies on faith and Link to save the day. I'm not implying that wisdom and faith cannot go hand in hand, but she needs to be able to represent her element more. Maybe her wisdom is knowing when to wait and allow someone else to bear the task? But it takes away too much initiative from her. Ganon's element is power but he's the one who ends up losing almost every time. And Ganondorf on his own, isn't powerless! He's a king, he knows magic, he can wield almost any weapon, he's patient, conniving and intelligent and knows how to make best with what he has. He isn't weak! And yet, the whole split happened, because he was feeling powerless.

They locked themselves in a self-sabotaging cycle that's powered by doubt.

Yeah! So one of the reasons I really love the Triforce lore is that it’s a three-way mirror that reflects both what the user has and also what they need (very wizard of oz).

Ganondorf is a very powerful man, physically, and magically.

Politically, though, he’s next to helpless, which is an awful thing for a king to be. He’s a king of thieves in OoT, because the Gerudo are not a wealthy or thriving nation there. In-Game they don’t have a local living area like the other regions (or even a store — just one floating bombchu salesman in the middle of the desert) — they’ve got a post-war fortress full of guards, and a temple that is being used as a secret base Hylians can’t get to.

Consider also, Ganondorf is the most highly decorated of the Gerudo, and he’s not decked out in gold. He’s wearing mostly iron and topaz. Nabooru and Twinrova are the only ones who have gold fixtures/jewelry along with the higher ranked guards for their protective elements (which is why I think it could arguably be pale bronze or yellow brass, which is a common and highly durable gold alternative).

The Gerudo are implicitly just surviving in OoT, and Hyrule speaks of them like they’re monsters (except for the one guy in town who has a fetish). More than that, WW establishes that his real grief comes from the weather, which any mortal is powerless to control.

So Ganondorf is powerful as a person, but powerless as a king, which is literally the only thing he was born to be.

Be that as it may, though, he is a well-loved king, and a survivor, and a thief, so he also has to embody both wisdom and courage too!

Zelda is the most obvious mirror to Ganondorf. She is a very powerful woman politically and magically, but physically-- compared to Ganondorf -- she's terribly meek. That's the obvious read, that they're 1:1 Parallels, but her real weakness lies in her courage.

Zelda (in OoT) leans on her massive political power -- In the child timeline, she literally sees a foreign dignitary executed before he does anything wrong, based on a recurring dream she has.

Do you know how insane that is? Do you realize how powerful she is?

Ganondorf is not just some guy -- he's a foreign KING. He's a KING that a TEN YEAR OLD had EXECUTED based on VIBES.

And we think she embodies wisdom because her vibes were (as we, the audience know) correct. But it's actually because as an adult, she understands that none of it needed to happen that way. That the only reason Ganondorf was able to pull off his stunt and get the Triforce at all was because she tried to control the situation, sending Link to gather everything Ganondorf couldn't get himself and put it all precisely where Ganondorf needed it to be.

Despite being a child at the time, by the end of the story, by the time she's Sheik, Zelda is taking full responsibility for what happened, and is doing everything in her now extremely limited power to fix it. She's so sorry to need Link, and at the end of it all is desperate to give him another chance to be a kid, and to be innocent, and to be happy, because she realized so quickly that she never should've involved him, visions be damned. She knows none of it was his fault or his business, and she's mortified that she dragged him into it in her own attempt to control the weather.

These other two items shift in other games -- WW and Twilight Princess show us a Zelda with tremendous courage and very little power, physical or political. And then the Wild's era, despite removing the Triforce narrative, shows us a Zelda with immense power and terrible guilt and insecurity -- her power locked behind her fear, and she is only able to access both when she embraces courage.

Which brings us to Link.

Link, on the surface, is a third wheel in a chess game between ancients. But the reality is that he's the base of the prism. He's the foundation that reflects both of the others.

There are MANY different personalities for Link, and personally my favorite gag is that Link is simply too stupid to be scared, but that's just a gag -- because something I've come to really enjoy and respect about him is that he consistently displays fear. Link embodies courage because he is full of fear and chooses to fight anyway. Link leads a good life. He is comfortable, he has family, he has friends, he knows peace. What makes Link courageous is that he is willing to give up his access to all of that if it means that everyone else keeps theirs.

Link will lock himself in a room with the apocalypse if it means he's the only one who gets hurt, and it's not because he believes this is his sacred duty, or his life's purpose -- he'd much rather be at home chasing chickens around or riding his pony through some pretty scenic route -- it's because he is so full of love for other people that he's willing to give up anything to keep them safe.

Link's not very powerful, but he is also unburdened by any desire to be powerful. Link's not very wise, but he is unburdened by any desire to be wise. Link is content in who he is, Link is happy to keep things simple. But Link is so brave that he becomes a leader, which actually makes him the most dangerous of the three.

Courage, unburdened, is fucking terrifying. To both Wisdom and Power. Because, unlike Wisdom and Power, Courage is contagious.

Link can empower and inspire and reveal truths others might not have been able to find on their own. Link doesn't need charisma or brutality. Link can build armies just by being observed.

"But Sketches, you haven't really said anything about how Link reflects the other two." It's subtle! But he does. I see it like this:

• Ganondorf reflects Link's relentless determination, refusing to stand down in the face of impossible odds. In this way, they're connected by their power and courage. • Zelda reflects Ganondorf's burden of being born in a crown, forcing them to learn leadership, and how to use their recklessness strategically, as children. In this way, they're connected by their power and wisdom. • Link reflects Zelda's sense of love for the faceless innocent, and her dedication to protecting all who can't protect themselves. In this way, they're connected by their courage and wisdom.

Because the inherent configuration of the triforce requires those connections to be balanced -- Separately they are overwhelmed by their traits. Ganondorf is willing to sacrifice everything he is in order to reach his goals, Zelda is so pre-occupied with preventing prophecy she ends up instigating it, and Link is so ready to step in and help that he never considers the consequences.

Every single one of them, left to their own devices, would rather see themselves destroyed than fail those who may or may not be relying on their success. They're all very similar, highly reflective characters who all represent compelling foils for each other and yes, display how their unfettered strengths are also the thing that damage them most.

#i LOVE triforce plot #I will never stop loving triforce mythos #FUCK good versus evil give me people being desperate and flawed #lozhc #oot eidolon #this is a very sloppy disorganized essay but I'm done looking at it I'm setting it free laksjdla

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cherrysoojins · 9 months

Text

scream.

ghostface! choi san & ghostface! jung wooyoung, oneshot/drabble (no pt. 2), horror themes, subjects of murder, underlying yandere themes, for mature audiences ( no smut ).

🔪 — : the annual frat halloween party hosted by your two best friends was not supposed to turn into a actual halloween horror movie for you.

this was not how halloween night was supposed to go.

party music loud and blaring, drowning out the screams and the slaughter as everyone finds just one more person dead.

not just another person, but another person you slept with. another person you dated. another person who looked in your general vicinity. every male with at least some correlation to you, you realize, have all become victims of a murder in that house party.

how many people have died at this rate? you’re not too sure.

having your phone in your shaky hands as you hid in the cupboards under the bathroom sink, you texted someone— anyone, hands moving frantically against the electronics keyboard. calling someone didn’t seem like a safe option, knowing you wouldn’t be able to keep your shaky voice at bay despite the blaring music.

halloween was not supposed to be like this. halloween was never supposed to actually be scary. halloween horrors were not supposed to actually come true.

how did you get here? what brought this upon the night? why were people who were involved with you dying left and right? was it a coincidence? were people still dying as you hid under the sink, encased in the darkness, relatively safe for now? why couldn’t people get out? could people get out?

should you get out?

like any normal person in a situation like this, your mind raced back and forth with possibilities, what if’s, and or’s, what should you do, do you save yourself or other people?

the latter was the easiest thought you had. albeit selfish, but it was always you. you came first.

people would keep dying and you would stay hidden.

until you couldn’t.

until the door to the bathroom creaked open, heavy thumps of boots sounding out, close to you. close to your safety.

turning the phone off, encasing yourself in the complete darkness, you stilled. other things like extra deodorants and razors, common bathroom necessities littered around your body, but you refused to be the dumb blonde in horror movies.

so you didn’t move, you held your breath.

“come on, y/n,” san’s voice rung out, tantalizing, dark— so different from the voice you hear everyday walking around campus.

deep down, you knew none of those guys’ deaths were coincidences.

you just didn’t want san to be the bad guy.

“you can’t keep hiding, times limited, baby.” his voice cooed out, banging his fist against the wall loudly, looking to freak you out and give yourself away.

you didn’t. keeping calm and breathing deep, you just had to play it cool. you just can’t be scared.

you could hear a frustrated groan following a tear of the shower curtains being roughly pulled back, a kick to the bathtub. he’s losing patience, you’re losing your mind at how close he seems to be getting.

but he was never that thorough, he was just a stupid frat boy— or so you thought until now. used to think that he wasn’t very capable of much besides throwing big frat parties and serving as a pretty face, he always used to be a little clueless in a lot of aspects.

but what if that’s a front and he checks every goddamn inch of this bathroom, proving how thorough and smart he actually can be?

footsteps walked around the bathroom some more before you finally heard them disappear. where? you don’t know, but surely far enough away.

turning on your phone once again, your fingers frantically texted anyone within reach— ‘call the cops’ ‘murderer’ ‘think i might die please hurry’, anything you could. anything to save yourself.

“gotcha.” a voice perked, yanking the doors open to the cupboard, making you scream. hands immediately shot out and grabbed your ankle that was bunched up under the sink, harshly yanking you out to where your head slammed against the tiled floor.

“oh, man. you can fool san, but not me.” wooyoung this time. shock taking over your body.

words can’t formulate the feeling. the dread. anguish. fear. betrayal.

they were working together.

they were working together?

“come on, baby. places to be, things to do.” san piqued from the doorframe, leaning on it in his all black attire that matched wooyoung’s, two ghost face masks in his hand, lifting them and jiggling them around as if he was taunting you with that dimpled smirk on his face.

“you… the people…” your voice trailed off, looking back at wooyoung.

“dead or they left. let’s go before the party gets busted.” wooyoung joked, grabbing you by the waist and slinging you over his shoulder.

you didn’t fight back. how could you against your best friend?

lifting your head up to look at the bathroom you were once safe in, eyes meeting your other best friends who still had his dimpled smile along his features.

“we’re gonna have so much fun, baby.” san said, the ghost face masks still dangling in his hand.

halloween was not supposed to end like this.

not proofread lol 😝🫵🏻

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blue-rose-soul · 3 months

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"Great Alastor Altruist* died for his friends!"

This scene has been spinning in my brain since Thursday. Like a lot of other people, my first thought was that this was an indication that Alastor had grown to care for Charlie and her friends at the hotel. And it's not because of the words he says. Even if you're watching without subtitles and don't see the quotations around that phrase, it's pretty obvious that he's laughing at the very thought.

"Me? Alastor? Dying for them?"

"Ridiculous."

"Absurd!"

"Utterly laughable!"

No, what makes me think that there might be a kernel of truth there isn't the words by themselves. It's the look on his face as he says them.

This is the part where Alastor's angry snarl breaks and he begins to look genuinely afraid. He clutches his chest. He digs his fingers into his scalp, drags his hand down the side of his face. And that's a perfectly reasonable reaction to nearly dying! It's very human! But I think it's very telling that this expression doesn't settle on his face until he's talking about dying for someone else. Before this he looked more angry than anything, and he lapses back into anger up until he begins talking about trying to find a way out of his deal.

Now, don't get me wrong, I understand why anyone would think otherwise. The thing about Alastor is that, despite how blatant it is, his mask works. Like I stated earlier, I find myself searching every word, expression, and gesture from Alastor for double meaning. Ostensibly, there's no one here for Alastor to lie to**. No one he has to put up an act for. But his smile, which he's already fully admitted is faker than fake, remains firmly in place. I wonder if putting up an act is so second nature to him at this point he can't help but do it even when he's alone. Maybe he tries to fool himself as much as other people.

I believe that he has come to care, but I can't fully believe it. I won't be surprised to be wrong. But there are some scenes that just don't make sense to me if he really doesn't care at all.

His chat with Niffty the night before the extermination, for example. Niffty isn't really someone he needs to trick. He has power over her, whether it's because he owns her soul or because of her blind devotion to him. It's telling that while everyone else is hanging out together, sharing drinks at the bar, Alastor keeps his distance and positions himself above them. At this point, Alastor seems to care about them the way we, the audience, care about them; as entertainment. He's enjoying watching their story unfold up close, but that's all there is to it. He admits to Niffty that one could get accustomed to being with them. Not him though! He's above all that.

Then the battle happens. At first, Alastor's role in the battle didn't require him to assume too much risk. He was on crowd control, limiting the number of exorcists the rest of the hazbins have to deal with at once. And he slayed a not insubstantial number of angels in the process***. But then Adam broke through Alastor's shield and singled him out. It would have been reasonable for Alastor to put some distance between himself and the Lead Exorcist. Charlie did say it was his job to deal with Adam, but as I've already discussed, Alastor really had no hope of winning that fight alone. Maybe if he'd escaped right then and there, or fought Adam alongside Charlie things would have turned out differently. Granted, I don't think his pride would have allowed him to take either of those options.

Regardless, the end result is that Alastor did come very close to dying for a cause that wasn't his. Considering what Adam did to the hotel, Alastor's pretty damn lucky he's not in two pieces here.

Now, I don't think this means Alastor is immediately going to turn around and integrate int o the hazbin family. Immediately after this line where he mocks the idea of dying for Charlie's cause, he gets angry again, leans further into the Radio Demon persona and starts contemplating ways to escape his contract. I think, that like someone recoiling after accidentally touching a hot stove, Alastor's going to pull further away from them. One thing I am certain about is how Alastor feels about his leash; he hates it. He wants to be rid of it. He doesn't know how to do that yet, but he's working out a plan and having Charlie in his corner is part of that plan. Giving a genuine shit about her or the other hazbins is not part of that plan. It's another leash, not as literal as the one connecting him to his patron but just as binding.

Alastor realizing he might actually care about these people may just make him more dangerous to them than if he just didn't care at all.

(*The word 'altruist' here being used as a title, not a name. Like something you'd see in a newspaper headline, or on a headstone.)

(**There do seem to be some odd eye motifs in the environment, but at no point does Alastor give any indication he is aware of them or acknowledge their presence in anyway. And I highly doubt he would have said certain things if he believed his patron was actively watching him.)

(***Taking this opportunity to go off topic a bit to call the Vees out on their hypocrisy. For all their bluster about 'taking the fight to Heaven' and how 'pussy' the older Overlords supposedly are, I didn't see any of them on the battlefield. Alastor was. He fought as long and hard as he could. There was nothing cowardly about him living to fight another day.)

#theory #random thoughts #Hazbin Hotel #Alastor #or y'know maybe I'm way off base and he really doesn't care about them even a little #I won't pretend like I've got an impartial perspective #Alastor's my favorite character and a big part of me WANTS him to care #I know he's in no way shape or form a good guy #However I do think that the possibility is there #and don't go telling people that they're idiots for interpreting media differently than you do. that's rude. stop it

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cerastes · 3 months

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With the exception of Arknights what are your thoughts on gacha games?

I don't feel like I need to exclude Arknights from the statement, I can criticize things even if I like them.

In general, I don't like that their widely accepted and even defended business model is "Capitalize on FOMO, exploit gambling addictions, create dependent users". I also think that the use of the "game as a service" model, and one that needs to keep pumping content forever and can't risk to alienate the player, severely limits what can be done with the medium in terms of creativity, because you can't kill off playable characters nilly willy (I actually think Epic Seven was cooking with this, Epic Seven will kill off playable characters and remove them from the plot if it feels like it, or at least used to back when I played, don't know nowadays), relationships and dynamics with characters tend to be limited because otherwise your audience can feel like you are cucking them, and I wish I was kidding but just look at the absolute dumpster fire of a drama going on as we speak (22nd of January, 2024) in Girls' Frontline 2 over in China over one of the characters having interactions with a male NPC, and you can't ever bring a true sense of finality to any given arc because everything ends up having to be foreshadowing, set-up, build-up and so on and on and on. In many cases, you also have a mold cast of Must Have tropes in your playable cast: The Maid, The Idol, The One That Worships The Ground You Walk On, The Underage And Underclothed One, The Underage (But We Treat This One As A Precious Child!) One, Foxgirl, The Cold And Highly Analytical One (But Actually, Loves You), Chuuni, etc, so it feels like in every game I kinda already know at least a third of the cast minimum already and I'm kind of primed to not really want to know them, even though there's subversions I end up liking sometimes (Fenny from Snowbreak is an example of an Idol-type I ended up loving despite not liking Idol-types).

On the other hand, even with these negatives in mind, having a game that periodically updates and adds content, and that you can discreetly play pretty much everywhere on the go due to smartphones being their main 'console', games that foster community and something to talk about with your friends that also play and that will always have something new every couple of weeks, as well as inspire fanart, fanworks, analysis, and commentary, and that tend to be more risque and interesting with their designs is honestly good to have. I personally enjoy the community aspect of gacha games, I consider it one of the two most important aspects for me, because I know I can come here, for example, and see people talking about the story, the characters, the music, the gameplay, and more, every day, and the other important thing to me is how discreet they are, since I can just play a few maps or stages in my phone real fast midst a social situation at work, and then hop back in with a renewed social battery or when a topic I like comes up.

I fully get when people showcase their disdain for gacha, yeah, but if we really want to be nitpicky, the majority of the game industry is kind of a cesspool of toxicity, which is not to say "stop bashing gacha" and instead say "bash the whole thing if you're going to be bashing it anyway" (and we should! Game devs and other personnel in the industry have been crying for better conditions for years now!). Either way, if someone decides to sit at the gambling den, it becomes their responsibility. I want there to be more safeguards for people with actual addictions and to protect them, but with this in mind, if anyone still decides to sit at the den, it's assumed they are going to take responsibility for their actions and financial decisions.

So all in all, yeah, predatory games that suffer in quality due to their own trappings, but also good sources of community, inspiration, and effective at being discreet games you can play anywhere and that get periodic updates (this isn't necessarily exclusive to gacha but it is an aspect of them that bears mentioning, which I point out since no doubt people will want to point out there's good non-gacha smartphone game options out there)

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cacti-are-like-flamingos · 9 months

Text

Wasted Oxygen...

Gojo Satoru x Reader x Geto Suguru

The Cursed Trio | Mr. Sandman

...

Despite being the ever energetic guy he was, Haibara loved to sit down and people-watch. Silently observing others go about their daily business, unaware of their audience as they freely express themselves through large and small mannerisms.

He'd always make sure to find a nice cozy spot, somewhere a bit hidden so no one could see his lingering eyes. If Kento was here, he'd been stating how inappropriately creepy he was being. He could already hear him hehe

Regardless of what his partner would think, the raven-haired boy could easily spend hours observing the world interact with itself. If he was lucky enough, he'd see an entire movie unfold right before his eyes.

Most of the time, though, he tried to call upon his inner Sherlock. Using the art of deduction to figure out the possible stories from every passer-goer.

Usually, it'd be more fun with you considering your extraordinary ability to deduce people to downright filth.

The two of you hanging out, making up stories for every person that caught either of your eyes had become a little routine of yours, one that started from his days of teaching you Japanese. He'd tell you certain words while discreetly pointing to people who embodied said words --- he hadn't expected for you to suddenly start rambling about the possible nuisances of each and every person you saw

And the fact that you had no filter made it worse! The amount of times he had to cover for you after you'd accidentally said something rather insulting about a person who stood close enough to hear --- double digits!

Regardless, it's the same reason as to why you're the most attuned person in terms of others emotions --- once you notice the patterns, you'll see them everywhere is what you'd often say to him

Although, it did leave him wondering. Just how were you so good at people-reading? Is that how you got along with those two so well? Because you knew instantly what they were about the moment you met them?

No, that can't be. On numerous occasions, you've complained about how Gojo and Suguru confused you. You claimed that they were like a whole new different breed of soul that you've never come across before.

Haibara blinked

Souls. The first time he heard about your Cursed Technique, he had to admit --- he'd never heard of a technique like yours.

Cursed Sight: Chains, a cursed technique that bestows its user with the ability to perceive the spiritual and see the souls of living beings as well as curses. The way it works is rather simple, or so, that's how you mentioned it to be.

As one knows, everything is made up of energy. So by simply channeling your own cursed energy, you can manipulate the strands into forming objects. By focusing well enough, you could bring said objects into the physical world: however, there was a catch.

You could never break eye contact.

The technique had great potential. Just visualize the item you need and Wala! It's there. (You had a preference for chains ghost rider type beat. You'd chain curses down to limit its movements prior to going for the kill. In times where the Curse proved too strong, you'd hold it down while continuously attacking it with an already cursed energy-imbued weapon)

To be honest, your fights were quite the spectacle. The way you expertly used your chains to capture curses, the way you used the ends of the chains to destroy them with such force --- ooh la la (aizawa x ghost rider's love child)

We're getting side tracked --- point is, your ability allowed you to see people's essence. You knew when they lied, you knew what they felt, their soul usually said everything you needed to know (you confessed that the soul only shows the most general of feelings so that's why you depended on deducting to truly understand people's intentions)

One major down side, you could never turn it off. I don't think you've ever really seen someone's face much less your own. Bodies are shaped around the soul, and the soul is always so blinding with its different hues. At least, the silhouettes had somewhat of expressions. (Further clarification, it's like cutting out human shape out of colored paper. Just three-dimensional. AH, THINK GOD FROM FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST but include the shape of hair and outfits) You could see the shapes of their eyes, the slope of their nose, and the curve of their lips.

(and now, you're probably asking -- but OP, what about clothes? How do we have a sense of style if we can't see the look when we look in the mirror? That is true. Wearing outfits will just accentuate your soul's shape. But the moment it's off and on a hangar, you can see it plain as day since it's soulless on its own. Also Ieiri helps you, sometimes even Yaga if you're that desperate)

"You're going to hurt yourself from thinking so hard, Haibara." There you are! You even brought, "Hiya!" "Senpai!" Gojo glared at you, "Meh, why aren't you ever this respectful? Hm? You have to respect our customs, foreigner!"

You scoff, "I do respect your customs, just not you."

"Bitch."

"Masochist."

"Masochist?! The hell is that for?"

"You like me insulting you, your soul lives for it. Got a degradation kink, old man?" "Who the fuck you calling old man for?! I'm just a year old-" "Haibara~! Let's go get something to eat!" "O-Oi! Don't run away, pussy!" You stick your tongue out at him as you pull Haibara by the arm, dragging him to some nearby tall selling takoyaki

You spent the entire day ignoring Gojo, who sulked behind you and Haibara as you dragged said male all around Roppongi where you were supposed to meet up with one other. Yep, you guessed it!

Mei Mei!

(don't you just love mixing friend groups and praying to whatever god is out there that it all works out? 😁)

Mei Mei couldn't care less about Haibara, though she did seem to acknowledge him as somewhat worth having around in regards to his 'service potential', but honestly, her indifference was palpable

Instead, Mei Mei focused on you, whose face held a dreamy look as the pretty woman spoke to you with that lovely sing-song voice of hers (she still HELLA sus iykyk but for the sake of this, she ain't. She's just greedy here)

Gojo was irked by how close Mei Mei got to you, his face unbelievably stoic as he watched you and Mei Mei interact (cue that anime angry mark and eyebrow twitch)— Mei Mei acting like a sugar mama to you as the white-haired woman walked you around pointing at shit she knew you'd like.

Ah, I can already hear some of you confused --- specifically the ones who are really into canon.

You see, Mei Mei does nothing out of the goodness of her heart. No, no. Greed is the very foundation of her character. And so, it would make sense that she wouldn't just spend her money on anyone just for the hell of it.

And so, the truth. You and Mei Mei had this secret arrangement --- in return for a few favors and pieces of key-information that she can't quite get from her watchful crows, Mei Mei would pay for your services. Usually, she'd just send the cash over but whenever the two of you are together, she'd provide you a little shopping spree. (No-one knows about this btw)

Despite the previous, it was evident that Mei Mei liked you. She saw you as her favorite little Kouhai, mainly because of how resourceful you could be, and the way your personalities seemed to mesh well together was exquisite in her opinion.

(Side Note: Your relationship with her is incredibly on-the-surface. The reason why you get along so well is because you adapt yourself to her personality. I wouldn't say you're a people-pleaser, although you are, but more of a subtle manipulating type of thing. Idk how to put it)

You weren't at all annoying like the others. Additionally, you had a higher chance of reaching your service potential than any other (i don't even know if that's a compliment or an insult and I wrote it 🤪)

Gojo wasn't a big fan of Mei Mei spoiling you, and it led to a whole day of the two of them kind of fighting to show off who could spoil you the most (though it may or may not have been your plan from the get-go).

The situation became more obvious to Haibara when you wrapped your arm around his, a wicked smile upon your lips as you quietly inquired from Haibara what he wanted. Not fully grasping the scheme, he answered, and then you'd claimed as your current desire, which Mei Mei and Gojo would then buy immediately.

Eventually, Kento joins after receiving a SOS text message from Haibara. At the sight of the two wordlessly seething cotton swabs with you smirking in front of them, Kento dragged him away (he only greeted you, he could care less about the other two)

While Mei Mei was preoccupied with a phone call, and Gojo was off buying something sweet for you and spicy for Suguru, to eat together later — you found yourself sitting at the same spot Haibara had been sitting earlier.

There was someone next to it, but that didn't stop you as you plopped yourself down, attention focused on the people walking by. Blissfully unaware of the minor curses that plagued them.

Sometimes, if you felt merciful, you would destroy the curse. Weaker curses didn't require you to physically manifest your chains; a small, invisible chain was all it took to loop around the curse and squeeze them to death.

"Never seen a technique like yours, foreigner."

At the stranger's words, you paused. You hadn't sensed any cursed energy from the person sitting next to you, so how could they have known? Glancing to your side, you tilted your head in slight confusion as you examined the man sitting next to you

"what happened to 'hello'? 'how are you'? To introductions, in general?" There was a slight tease to your words yet your fingers subtly twitched by your side

The raven-haired man snorted in amusement, a slight smirk on his lips as he leaned back against the wall of the bench. His hands were in his pockets as he didn't once look your way.

"How long have you been here with them?" Something in his voice had put you on edge, but at the same time, you didn't feel imminently in danger.

"Long enough, give or take."

He made a face, "Like it, so far?"

You shrugged your shoulders, your eyes still on his silhouette as you answered, "Neutral, so far."

"So you haven't been here long enough," he sassed back earning a short snort from you.

"Oh? Why's that?" "You'll see, soon enough." And with that, he stood up, walking away from you without another word. You stared at his soul, watching it get tinier with every step he took.

You had met many dark blues, but the edges of his were... fuzzy. Not clearly definable. That was new.

Surprisingly, you didn't feel shook or concerned. You actually felt a rush of excitement, the sort you got from trying to solve the mystery of some crime show before the narrator could even reveal the truth.

Suddenly, Gojo appeared in the corner of your eye, his sunglasses pulled down his nose as his iridescent eyes gazed down at you.

His eyes were the only ones you had ever truly seen. You thought it was because of his Six-Eyes.

"Yo! Got the drugs," he said, to which you replied with a casual "Hm."

He narrowed his eyes, "What happened?"

So observant

You perked up, "What?"

He repeated, a small frown on his lips, "What happened?"

You shrugged, "Just an... interesting encounter, that's all."

Gojo knew better. But he also knew you.

"Alright, let's go. Mei Mei already left, and she wanted me to give you this," he said with displeasure in his voice as he threw a bag into your lap—a luxury brand bag. But not before handing you yet another bag, another luxury brand.

With a sense of curiosity, you gently untied the bag's ribbon and opened it, revealing a small box inside. Your fingers carefully lifted the lid, revealing the gift within as you opened the box

A single earring, a crescent moon hanging from it. It's metal glimmering under the setting sun (wow, time passed fast today)

"Now we can match!" Gojo said. Showing off his wrist, a silver bracelet with a sun hanging from it.

You snorted, "What about Suguru, hm?" (While you asked, you put the earring on without another moment's notice)

He rolled his eyes, revealing another bag matching your own, "His is here...ya like it, tho?"

Having stood up from where you sat, you smiled softly as you affectionately bumped your head onto his shoulder before motioning for him to walk with you. (You didn't get to see his grin, but you could feel it.)

"Let's go home, Gojo," you said, with Mei Mei's gift loosely wrapped around your wrist, knowing it could wait.

...

(A/N): Ugh, I keep having to come back to fix certain things so it can better fit my narrative. I keep writing these shits while being tired af, and when I wake up --- I forget my own canon 🙄

Anyways

Who do you think the rando guy is?

Also did you notice how you immediately checked Gojo's gift rather than Mei Mei's? In fact, you completely ignored her gift to you.

Moreover, have any of you noticed that whenever you get to know someone --- their name alters? I wonder what that implies for certain people.

And what does a fuzzy outline mean?

This was also supposed to take another turn but then the characters charactered and here we are now.

Drop a comment

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Hope you enjoyed!

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