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#i mean who could have thought i am capable of that anywhere
erodasfishtacos · 3 months
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The Body Factory (sexclubowner!h)
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Hellloooo!
It’s been a long while since I posted here. I am still going strong on patreon with 4-5 one shots a month with anywhere from 8 to 14k words usually (sometimes more) + blurbs. I decided to released one of my new tropes, just part one on here and if it sounds good maybe consider joining for $3USD a month to read more parts of this and many others coming up!!!
prompt: yn doesn’t feel fufilled in her relationship and so her fiancé, Arthur, comes up with an idea to help but it doesnt turn out as either of them expected aka sex club owner!h
word count: 8k
warnings: under-negotiation, power play, mean h, choking, safeword, cheating but not really yet
🛑 there is a scene that could potentially be triggering so i am going to put a brief summary at the end of the fic if you’d like to check whether it’s a appropriate read for yourself. 🛑
Author’s Note: I have had this idea on my mind for months and have been so extremely excited to share it with you. It has really really been inspiring to me as I don’t have a trope like this. I hope you enjoy.
++
Arthur was nice.
Arthur was a safe choice.
It’s why when YN’s father introduced them, it didn’t really seem like an option to turn down the invitation to go out to dinner at the swankiest restaurant in town.
The date had been so incredibly unexciting that YN had no doubt that he would not ask for a second one.
They had nothing in common, the space was often filled with an awkward silence, and averted gazes to the walls or out the window next to their seating.
Arthur was nice.
Arthur was polite, he held the door and paid for the bill before walking her to her car with the chaste kiss to her cheek.
It absolutely boggled her mind when her father informed her the next day that Arthur had told her that he had an amazing time and was going to ask her for a second date in the next upcoming days.
YN hated the mere idea of disappointing her parents, she had already let them down enough with her career choice not to join the family business
:readmore:
instead becoming neonatal nurse, despite that being a massive accomplishment, it wasn’t praised because she didn’t go to be a lawyer like both her mother and father.
It felt like most of the time she was on thin ice with her parents because of her education and career choice, even down to the car she drove (they thought it was too sporty and not practical enough) which left her in a precarious position.
She relied on them for help with her student loans.
YN was still trying to get her feet on the ground with her apartment landlord just bumping up her rent by nearly five-hundred pounds, her car note, among all the other things that came with being an adult that she wasn’t financially capable of managing yet.
Her parents agreed to pay for her school loans.
However, it came with silet threat of staying in their good gracious or they would cut her off at any moment, they had threatened it enough when she got into nursing school and informed them that she would be attending, she must have heard them threaten her inheritance half a million times.
Arthur was her ticket back into her parent’s limelight.
He was fresh out of law school but he was incredibly intelligent, good at what he did, and had multiple firms vying for him to join their legal council but he had chosen YN’s family’s business because of their well-known reputation.
Arthur came from old money, which had given him an extremely privileged life and a headstart into success as soon as he was born.
He was the great-grandson of an oil tycoon whom he had reaped the benefits ever since.
The second date happened, then the third, then the fourth.
No spark.
No chemistry.
Atleast on YN’s end because Arthur seemed happy as a clam in their relationship, he praised YN to anyone who would listen, and was consistently bragging about their life to anyone that would listen to him.
He was nice to her.
He remembered important dates, brought her flowers to work, and had dinner made when she walked in the door on nights that she worked late shifts and he got home before her.
Time passes and they celebrate their first year anniversary, then their second, then their third.
On the fourth was when he got down on one knee and professed his love to her in front of all their family and friends on Christmas Day at an extravagant party at his parent’s estate.
The diamond ring that he slid onto her finger was ridiculous, too big to not just be flaunting wealth, and it wasn’t a style that she liked but she lied and told him that she loved it.
There was an emptiness in her chest when he proposed, she was teary-eyed but she couldn’t determine whether it was from happiness or dread that she was going to spend the rest of her life with the man in front of her.
It wasn’t his fault in the slightest.
Arthur was just Arthur.
He lacked depth, there was nothing behind his twinkling brown eyes beside law, money, and judgement.
Arthur treated her nicely consistently, they barely ever fought, and he never raised his voice at her.
When he got frustrated, he just got an exasperated tone and took time to himself in his office until he had calmed down enough to talk.
But that was once in a blue moon.
They’ve never had a blow-out because he was so agreeable and accommodating.
That’s exactly what was missing from their relationship.
YN didn’t crave toxicity, not one bit, she wanted a healthy relationship with positive communication, understanding, and all the things that make that up.
YN did crave excitement, humor, sexual tension, and the type of relationship that kept her on her toes, got her adrenaline pumping and making her stomach turn in nervous knots because she didn’t always know what to expect out of her partner.
Arthur was as predictable as a clock, had no spontaneity up his sleeve, and his sense of humor was nonexistent.
YN had a partner that she’d been with in college named Klein.
He wasn’t the love of her life, not by a long shot, but he had been wild, on the edge of insane half-of-the-time, and always kept their relationship exciting.
He would show up at her part-time cafe job, with a fake excuse to her boss about a death in his family, and he needed her support.
When YN would walk out to his motorcycle with him, concerned about his grandmother’s death, he would only smile at her, inform her that his grandmother has been dead for fifteen years, and that he was going to take her on a hike to see a waterfall she’d mentioned wanting to see once in passing.
But then there was their sex life, it was phenomenal and unlike the few half-hapzard experience she had before him.
He was confident, dominant, and introduced her to things that she used to not even have the nerve to say out loud let alone do.
It was him who introduced her to BDSM and they explored it for nearly two and a half years of their relationship.
YN did research while they were together and after the fact, she had even attended a few virtual training sessions to learn about correct techniques, safety precautions, and learning the dynamic of power play which engrossed her to no end.
However, when Klein requested they open their relationship, that had been such an unexpected turn-off that she no longer felt the connection that was there before.
The end of the relationship was amicable, they were still friends on social media and liked each others posts but it was at that point they realized they wanted different things and they couldn’t provide that to one another.
Where Klein wanted flexibility, uncertainty, and fluidity.
YN wanted regimen, structured, and a deep sense of connection with one person.
She did not want multiple doms nor did she want her dom to have multiple submissives.
She wanted all the attention on her, her dom would be absolutely captivated by her and be so connected to her physically, mentally, spiritually that they only want her.
Her ideal dom would never mention sharing.
Which isn’t to shame it because it was more common than not to have an open relationship, partner sharing, and swapping.
YN loved the idea of becoming comfortable with someone enough that she could be a brat which she wasn’t an easy submissive she had come to learn.
Her dominant had to work for her submission, sometimes she crumbled quickly and other times it took multiple punishments until the smirk was wiped from her face and replaced with tears on her puffy cheeks from the pinpricks of pain.
After Klein, she had gone on a few dates, some she even hooked up with but she never clicked enough with them to talk about anything like that.
And so she wrapped it up into a nice, neat box and tucked it into the back of her mind because she would find the right partner who would be compatible sexually with her.
Right?
Arthur and her had no sexual chemistry.
Arthur was just as polite in the bedroom as he was outside of it, he never put her in a unique position, and preferred to rotate between the missionary and doggy style.
He would occasionally go down on her but he didn’t know what he was doing so it didn’t feel like much of anything as most of the time he couldn’t even locate her clit.
Which meant fingering was out of the question because he didn’t even know the g-spot existed.
Anytime she managed to orgasm, it was from her own hand, getting herself off because she was past the point of asking him to try to do it.
Arthur did not have a high sex drive and YN felt guilty for being thankful for it.
He wasn’t doing anything wrong, he was trying, and it was so unsatisfying that YN felt like her skin itched sometimes because she hadn’t realized until Arthur how much she craved sexual intimacy with her significant other.
Again, Arthur initiated once a week, sometimes twice or sometimes not for a few weeks when his work is really busy.
YN was six years into a relationship of unfilled desire, disconnect, and a lack of satisfaction which she would have never seen for herself at only being twenty-nine years old.
The wedding was set for fourteen months away, at a vineyard on the coast of Italy.
It was decided by everyone but her as with most things she felt like nowadays.
++
YN had been scrolling through a blog post when something caught her eye.
It was written by a female who had a similar lack of connection with her partner in the bedroom but wanted more.
The writer had described that as soon as she asked if they could experiment with BDSM that their relationship had completely shifted, they were more in love than ever, and their sex life was more amazing than it had been in nearly a decade.
It was the motivation that YN needed to have the conversation with Arthur, with the hope that it would ignite a flame that had yet to be struck between the two of them.
YN loved Arthur, she wanted to be in love with him but she couldn’t honestly say she was at this point in their relationship.
Arthur had been surprised by the conversation, over dinner one night, if the way he sputtered red wine onto his crisp white button-up was an indicator.
His eyes had gone wide in a look of almost horror and he cleared his throat a handful of times while they discussed it in more detail.
“I just feel like it would be something fun to try out,” YN tries to keep it casual, to not let on to how much she desired this or knew that she would already love it.
“Erm, yeah. I would be open to it,” Arthur had agreed sheepishly, putting down his fork and knife.
“No, I do not want you to feel pressured at all! I just -” YN begins to try to soothe because she had not meant to get such a reaction of concern more than lust out of her fiance.
He chuckles kindly, smiling at her as he reaches across the table to hold her hand, “We can try it, if that’s what you want. I am open to whatever will make you happy, sweetie pie.”
Sweetie pie….
YN tried not to blatantly cringe every time he called her that.
++
It did not work out.
They did not even get a few minutes into foreplay when Arthur backed out, saying that he just didn’t feel like he knew what to do, and that he’d prefer if they just did their normal thing.
YN agreed, trying to swallow the disappointed lump in her throat because she didn’t want to guilt him in to trying anything he wasn’t into.
They didn’t discuss it again after that for a long while.
++
Arthur wasn’t blind to the shift after that night.
He now knew that he was not satisfying a need that YN desired and she had just seemed more subdued since he had called it off but was trying to hide it because he knew that she wasn’t trying to make him feel bad about not wanting it.
It had been on his mind though.
++
“A sex club?” YN’s eyes nearly buldge from her sockets, puting down her glass of water and ignoring the splashes it leaves on her hand because what had Arthur just recommended they try?
“Yes. A BDSM club or a kink club they call it. Maybe if I see other people doing it or we get into the right atmosphere, it will work better. At least off the start?” Arthur seems just as nervous as her, he hadn’t touched his food.
“And…I just…” YN was at a loss for words because this is just the most unexpected turn of events.
“Maybe I can learn from others. Really get good at it for you, you know?” He suggests, his eyes looking anywhere but at hers.
“Yeah, yeah let’s do it.”
++
The Body Factory was the club that Arthur had decided after doing his research.
He needed somewhere secretive, exclusive, and with iron-clad NDA’s so that no one could use this against him in his profession which was fair enough.
That’s where The Body Factor came into play.
There were guidelines to a membership:
You must make over a hundred-and-fifty thousand pounds a year.
You were sign and resign an NDA every three months.
A deposit of ten thousand pounds, it will not be refunded if any rules or regulations are broken.
You will send in health screenings every two months, proof of birth control (if female), and a background check.
You may not belong to any other clubs during the time of your membership at The Body Factory.
YN was quite shocked that Arthur had dished out that amount of money on the deposit for something that they weren’t sure that they were going to like nor want to continue to visit even though the membership spans for a year at a time.
“If we go, hate it, and decide to never go back, just consider it a really expensive date night,” Arthur had assured her with a chuckle, she knew of his wealth but even this seemed a bit like frivolous spending but little did she know it was just his desperation to make her happy.
++
The club was in the packing district of all places, tucked back in between massive factories, some that were still open and operating, others that had been abandoned for years now.
It was actually in an old clothing factory that had been renovated to resemble any other high-end club, from the inside there would be no way that anyone could even tell except for the incredibly high ceilings at some points.
However, the location in the city and of building choice gave a lot of privacy of entering and exiting, it wasn’t advertised nor did it have any sign indicating of their presence.
It was a maze of alleyways until the entrance appeared, a dingy door that was rusted and gave no indication of what was inside, someone walking past would have never looked twice or thought anything of the building nor the entrance.
Everything was matte black, dark, and dimmed.
There were occasional deep emerald green accents but everything was sleek, modern, and simple but in the most elegant way as they walked in.
YN’s heart was in her throat.
Where people going to be fucking right when they walk in?
Or people being led around on leashes right off the bat?
Arthur may pass out.
However, there’s a front desk, almost like at an office with a woman dressed in a incredibly fitted sleek black dress with smooth, curled hair, and makeup like it was done by a professional, she had to be a model because she was gorgeous as she smiled widely and checked them in.
They had to show their licenses, hand over physical copies of their screenings, NDA’s even though they had to sign them virtually too.
There were two security guards in black suits with earpieces standing by large, heavy dark oak doors with their hands crossed in front of them.
This seemed like a movie or just not real with how sophisticated this whole process was.
“Enjoy,” Penelope, the receptionist had chirped with the whitest, most perfect smile she’d ever seen.
Arthur seemed a bit awestruck for a moment and YN couldn’t even fault him for it.
The two guards move aside to open the doors, nodding for them to go in before closing them firmly behind them.
YN finds herself reaching for Arthur’s hand, nervous and shaky with new experience anxiety and adrenaline that she was finally getting back into what she wanted even more so.
There were people mingling, sipping on drinks, and all fully clothed.
It wasn’t until Arthur informed her, “Play starts at ten, the first hour is to introduce, mingle, meet.”
Ah, that makes sense.
It almost builds the tension, YN feels like she can taste it on the tip of her tongue.
They walk over to the bar, another beautiful women greets them right away, laying a napkin down in front of both of them, “Newbies?”
“Yes,” Arthur nods, pointing to himself first, “I’m Arthur, this is YN, my fiance.”
The bartender quirks an eyebrow as she not-so-subtly scans them, “Nice to meet you two. I’m Raven. I bartend Friday through Sunday here. What are you drinking?”
“A moscow mule,” YN asks, maybe some alcohol will loosen her nerves.
“It’s a dry club, babe,” Raven smiles patiently as her long fingernails click against the smooth surface.
“Oh,” YN replies in surprise, looking behind her at the shelves only to see syrups for flavoring but no actual liquor bottles or draft taps to be seen, “A sprite?”
“Water, please,” Arthur adds as he rubs YN’s thigh, squeezing it in reassurance, “I forgot to tell you. No alcohol here. Everybody needs to be sober when playing.”
“That makes sense,” YN hums in agreement, never having actually thought about it much, but it could definitely get cloudy on consent when alcohol was being consumed in regards to playing which was a dangerous and unsafe mixture.
They sit, observed for a few minutes before a few people begin to flock towards them, greeting them and asking surface level questions until there’s a deep, almost eerie chime that echoes for a long moment through the club over the soft jazz.
It was signifying that the clock had struck ten.
Everyone quickly wraps up their conversations before moving to different areas of the rooms, some disappearing down hallways.
The atmosphere had changed significantly in a very quick spurt of time as people started undressing, kissing, moving as if they’d just gotten permission.
There was a couple of the couch across the room that Athur and YN were observing from their barstools.
The two started out slow, sensual, like any normal couple behind close doors but when the woman knots her hair into her partner’s hair and demands his mouth move lower, he obliges and Arthur gasps softly at the roughness displayed.
YN’s been aroused for the last five minutes of watching them but doesn’t make an effort to act on it, not yet atleast, and once the couple move so that the man is laying on the couch, the woman kneeling over his face, it changes her vantage point but it catches on something else.
In the corner, further back into the room, there was a man sitting in the corner where there was barely any lighting, dim and his goal was to obviously stay in the background.
No one was approaching him nor was he interacting with anyone else.
YN knew there was a no phone policy but this man was sat, scrolling boredly through his phone and only occasionally glancing up to observe the people in action around him before eyes dart back down like it wasn’t entertaining at all.
He wasn’t aroused, at least from what YN could see, and he was in a tight, well-fitted suit but his dress shirt was barely buttoned, open enough to show the definition of his pectoral muscles, the sharpness of his collarbones, and a variety of darkly inked tattoos.
He was fucking beautiful.
YN realizes she oogling him but can get away with it because it appears to Arthur that she’s still watching the couple like he is.
However, when the man looks up after a few moments once again, his eyes are instantly locked on YN.
She can’t tell what color they are from here but she knows they’re light, twinkling under the barely there light of a sconce on the wall and it’s smouldering as he doesn’t blink nor waver with embarrassment of being caught staring at her.
YN quickly diverted her eyes back to the couple, her heart was pounding, and a sense of thrill shot up her spine even though it was inappropriate.
She wasn’t here for new partners.
She was here to learn and explore with her own.
YN tries to play it casual when Raven refills the drink she nervously chugged, “Why does that guy have his phone?”
Raven’s eyes darted to the man before grinning, “That’s Harry. He’s the owner, my boss. He supervises the free play.”
“Free play?”
“Out in the common area, it’s considered free play. If you claim a room, you are in private play with whatever partners you bring back there. Harry just makes sure everything stays safe and consensual out here. He gets bored though and plays Candy Crush on his phone.”
YN cracks her own smile at that, trying to imagine the man trying to get rid of sugary sweets and getting frustrated when he loses a round.
“Does he not play?” Arthur asks curiously, now his attention has changed to Harry as well.
“Not often,” Raven informs them, leaning her elbow on the counter, “I can’t remember the last time he did. I’d say at least seven years ago, at least in the free play but he doesn’t reserve rooms or anything. He made it clear that he doesn’t find at least any of the current members interesting enough to engage with.”
“That’s interesting, considering he must have an interest in it, if this is his club,” Arthur replies to Raven before turning back to the scene of the couple, another member had joined the couple and was currently giving the male some startling rough looking bruised kisses and bites to his stomach and thighs.
Arthur was getting aroused by the look and feel of it, he reached over and brazenly took her hand, and led her to his groin where he was hard in his trousers, encouraging her to palm over him which she did as she tried to get into it.
This…This atmosphere, these people, they excited her.
Arthur still did not.
They manage to get to a couch, Arthur appears to be getting so turned on that foreplay isn’t in his realm of ideas because he’s hiking up YN’s dress around her hips and positioning her on top of him which is a new position (in all six years they’ve never done cowgirl) but still, her arousal is barely boiling above surface level.
YN licks her palm, reaching down to help moisten herself because Arthur was not doing anything to spark her to get wet.
It was actually making her more distressed that despite the scenario, she still didn’t feel the connection to her fiancé.
When she slides down, it’s fine, he was an average size so even without much lubrication, it didn’t feel like a stretch or burn when she started to move her hips but it wasn’t as pleasant as if she was sopping, dripping down her thighs.
Arthur glances to the side at one point, noticing that the male from the throuple was now pounding into the original partner with his had tight around her throat, pushing her further into the couch without mercy as she tried to whine through stutter breaths.
YN felt like she was being watched the entire time, which of course she was being watched by other members but it felt different, when she blinks around and notices that Harry has his gaze honed in on her with a twisted scowl of almost disapproval, it confuses her.
However, she’s brought back into the moment when Arthur pants out, “Can- I want to try that.”
When YN follows his gaze, he’s referring to the choking, and yeah, maybe that will light that match.
“Okay, yeah,” YN agrees as she brushes her hair off of her shoulders, wishing he would have taken this dress off of her instead of shoving it upwards where it felt confining.
Arthur smiles at her, leaning up to give her a chaste kiss which didn’t match their situation whatsoever that they were in at the moment.
YN was feeling anxious about the judgment other members might put onto them but not because she cared that people watched but because she knew Arthur and her were nowhere nearly as fluid, practiced, or elegant as the other members whom seemed to just melt into one another easily.
Arthur had never tried it before but his hand came up to her throat, he’s getting close to his own release which means that he’s not as focused, eyes getting a glazed over appearance.
YN soon realizes that he has no idea what he’s doing as he begins to cut off her airway by cupping her throat in the center instead of at the sides.
It hurts, she can’t breathe but not the way that feels tingly, excited, it feels like he could quite possibly suffocate her because of his carelessness.
They had talked about proper methods and he clearly hadn’t retained that information.
A few black dots begin to dance across her line of vision and her body starts to trigger a flight or fight response which she wants to use her safe word but she can’t speak.
YN takes to dig her nails into his hand but he doesn’t seem to understand that it’s not out of lust.
A true fear begins to take hold that something horrible will happen to her in less than a minute.
He’s truly going to injure her.
YN is in a full-fledged panic induced state.
Then suddenly, without warning, a strong arm is being wrapped around her middle and a big, ring-clad hand grips Arthur where it was around her neck so hard he yelps in pain and releases his grip.
The person is physically lifting YN off of Arthur’s lap, trying to steady her on her feet but they feel like jello and she feels light-headed, the room wouldn’t stop spinning.
“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” The person’s voice is deep, raspy, and incredibly pissed off, “What the fuck is your problem?”
YN can’t even bring herself to look at Arthur right now, her full support into Harry’s side as she notices the two securities guards walking in.
“C’mon, let me sit you down. You’re okay but I want to check you out, alright? Yeah, c’mon, pet,” He encourages in a much softer tone, gentle and trying to comfort me as she struggles to catch her breath.
It takes a long second to realize that she’s crying, tears streaming down her cheeks, and fuck, she is so embarassed as every other member had stopped playing.
“We’re done for the night. We’ll re-open tomorrow at the normal hours of operation,” Harry announces to the room at large before looking to Raven, “Go close down the private rooms.”
Raven nods, no longer as smiley and bubbling but an expression of concern as she watches what’s going on with YN.
“Hey, darling. Can you tilt your head up?” Harry asks quietly once he sits her down in the same corner that he had been in, away from the group.
YN whines because her neck is aching, she doesn’t want to do anything as the drop in adrenaline has made her more exhausted than she’s felt in a long time.
“I know, I know,” Harry simpers in an unpredictably cooing tone, he taps his thumb on her chin to signal her to tilt it up and she obliges.
Harry prods gently at her neck, focusing on the center where the pressure has been, “Any sharp pains? Anything feel off or wrong like you need to go to the hospital?”
YN shakes her head, a fresh round of tears.
She knew that she wasn’t injured or seriously hurt.
YN felt more traumatized mentally than anything else.
“I need words, want to hear your pretty voice,” Harry orders in a honey sweet tone, eyes hyper-focused on her like they were in the beginning of the night.
His eyes were green.
Close to the accent color of the club.
“I’m okay,” YN manages to speak out, throat dry and scratchy.
Raven appears with a glass of water to hand to Harry before giving them their space again.
YN is about to reach for the glass but Harry is already moving it towards her lips for her, “Drink f’me.”
It’s strangely intimate as he tilts the glass, eyes watching her carefully and a sense of guilt sets in that she likes that Harry is tending to her, giving her his full attention.
“Is this a common occurrence? Between you two?”Harry doesn’t sound as kind anymore, his jaw muscle twitches slightly.
“Um, no. We came here to explore. I’m very much into this world and he isn’t. He’s told me he’s done his research in his free time but -“
“You’re telling me that you’ve never negotiated nor tried something like this and he full fledge tries choking?” Harry interrupts, outraged from where he stands up from squatting in front of her, “Did you ask or plan for that?”
YN shakes her head, a bit embarrassed that she was coming off as an amateur to someone…she felt an attraction to, felt intimidated by, and Arthur had ruined their experience here.
“No. We tried spanking a few times but he backed out. We were just supposed to come here to watch others so he could visual what all this looked like before putting it into action-“
Harry doesn’t let her finish as he storms away from her, his glare set right on Arthur who was sheepishly sitting back at the bar and nursing a drink as Raven talked to him.
YN’s heart rate starts to rise again when Arthur tenses, clearly being chewed out by Harry before her fiancé gets off his barstool and follows the club owners lead down the hallway.
YN rushes to the bar, Raven is already pouring her another sprite, “Calm down. He’s not going to hurt him or anything. They just need to have a discussion on whether or not Harry will revoke his membership.”
It feels ruined and it never even started.
All she can think about is that despite for a short amount of time she was getting what she asked from Arthur, there was still no god damn spark.
After a good half hour, the bar phone rings and Raven answers, murmuring a few words back into the receiver before having up.
“I’m going to take you back to his office now.”
++
Harry’s office was just as luxe, elegant as the rest of the club.
It was tense as soon as she stepped in the room and Raven left, closing the door behind her.
“I’ve decided not to revoke your joint membership after discussion with Arthur. However, there are contingencies if you would like to continue coming here. Are you willing to hear them? Arthur has already agreed to the terms.”
YN nods slowly, voice soft, “Yes.”
Harry keeps his face on her as he speaks, “I do not tolerate what happened here tonight in my club. Arthur has clearly proven that he isn’t educated enough to be able to have free access to the club and free play.”
“If you want to continue membership, Arthur will need to reserve a private room and lessons will be held until he fully grasps the concepts, displays understanding, and can play safely without supervision.”
“Who…Do you have instructors?” YN doesn’t think she wants another man involved in their sex life even in an educational aspect.
“Yes but I will be teaching the lessons,” Harry informs her, calm as ever, “I bring this up because I would need to be hands on, to demonstrate and display certain practice, power play dynamics but that is a lot to ask as I do not know your limits on sharing.”
YN’s speaking before she even realizes it, “Yes. We can do that.”
Harry’s lip quirks slightly before it disappears but it oddly enough seems like a reward.
“We can schedule. I will send the paperwork. I already have your questionnaires about hard limits, likes, dislikes, and willing to try. I want to make this clear, this will be purely educational and there will be no dynamic developing between me and you two.”
YN nods dumbly, at a loss for words because the mere thought of Harry domming her was a lick of a flame that she’d been missing so much.
“I will dom you with instructions interwoven for Arthur. We will try to keep everything minimal as I cannot stress enough that this is not anything but informative on my end to help improve your sex life as a couple.”
++
Three longs weeks pass before their first ‘lesson’.
Arthur voiced excitement about the instruction, never brought up the choking incident again, and never initiated any type of sex during this time either.
Everything was swept under the rug as usual in their relationship.
YN would never admit the fact that she had gotten herself off to the mere idea of Harry domming her because something about him had triggered something carnal, something near feral in her.
It’s more than she had even felt with Klein.
She knew it wouldn’t last forever but she was going to enjoy this to the best of her abilities.
++
YN only had excited nerves going into the night.
Harry had inquired more in the break of time about YN’s experience and was extremely pleased to realize that she wasn’t as much of a novice as he assumed.
Though she hadn’t experienced many partners or relationships within the community, her knowledge was expansive and deep enough to impress him.
Harry had texted her back with a simple message that had her core tingling enough that she had to rub her thighs together.
YN: Thank you for continuously checking in on my comfort and experience regarding these situations. I have many more concerns for Arthur as we’ve already discussed. If you have any more questions, feel free to ask!
Harry Styles: I do not plan to go easy on you. Unless you specifically want soft play for these experiences. I can be a softer dominant but my main modality is firm, mean, regimented with softer aftercare.
YN: You don’t scare me. ;)
She was already being bratty with him.
It sent a wave of good nerves through her as she waited for a reply to be sent to her inbox.
Harry Styles: It’s interesting that you’ve already started to decide to be bad for me when you don’t even know what I’m capable of, darling.
YN : I’m shaking.
YN: Terrified.
Harry Styles: I wish I could wrap my fingers around your throat right now. Show your fiancé the proper way to choke a god damn brat.
YN could feel herself pooling with arousal.
It felt a bit wrong but she reasoned enough with herself that it was all for the greater good of her relationship with Arthur but deep down she knew that was bullshit.
YN: You’re probably not much better.
Harry Styles: Quite honestly, haven’t worked with such a fucking disobedient bitch in a long time. I cannot wait to break you. A kitten who thinks they’re a big bad tiger.
YN: Fuck you.
Harry Styles: Kitty’s got claws.
Harry Styles: For now…
It felt bordering on inappropriate but YN reasoned again that Harry had made it clear that there isn’t anything happening, it is a strictly professional as a type of situation like this can be.
++
Saturday has come and YN wakes up to a text.
Harry Styles: Better wear something cute enough that I find you interesting enough to play with. Even if it’s just to teach.
YN rereads the message quite a few times and why is he so good at getting under her skin and she doesn’t even know him yet but it’s like he knows exactly how to wind her up.
YN: Black dress with tights.
Harry Styles: It’s good to know that you’re just another basic bitch.
YN: What will you be wearing then?
Harry Styles: That’s none of your fucking business. I call the shots, kitty. Not you.
YN: 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕
Harry Styles: Good to know. Five spanks for the five emojis. Would you like to keep going?
She can’t even help herself
YN: 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕
Harry Styles: Noted.
YN wants to reply, knowing he’s probably waiting but a tiny sliver of guilt starts to creep in when she thinks about Arthur because though she’s trying to convince herself this is perfectly fine.
It’s not.
Not with the emotions it makes her feel.
She hasn’t felt them in so long.
It scares her.
“Sweetie pie, are you having second thoughts? Should be getting ready,” Arthur steps out of the walk-in closet, adjusting the sleeve of his button up.
“No!” YN replies much too quickly, her tone high pitch, “Um, I lost track of time. I’ll get ready now.”
“Okay, I’m excited for this new experience with you,” He smiles sweetly, stepping over to press a kiss to her forehead.
It’s affectionate, loving, and she’s still thinking of other things than her fiancé.
++
YN decides on a black wide leg trouser with a corseted bodysuit that gave her tits the perfect push-up, she’s spray a very thin most of body glitter on her chest, she knew it would sparkle in the dim lighting.
She considered wearing the dress and tights to spite him but whatever, she’d be less easy access for him.
++
Arthur held her hand tightly as they entered The Body Factory.
YN was already searching for Harry, barely waving to Raven as Arthur leads them over but she doesn’t want a drink, she wants to play.
However her fiancé guide her to a stool, ordering for both of them as Raven has a look of curiosity as she slides them in front of him.
“Does he come out and get us?” Arthur asks Raven, looking around he doesn’t see him either.
Raven bites her lip, shaking her head with a chuckle, “No, I take you to your reserved room when ten hits.”
“What is it?” YN asks, unable to read what is going on the bartender's mind.
This conversation didn’t seem particularly funny.
“Nothing really. Harry just hasn’t offered private lessons for at least eight or nine years. Normally when couples have an incident like you did, Harry revoked their memberships without a second thought,” Raven informs them as she picks at a spot on the smooth surface of the bar absentmindedly.
“Why us?” YN wonders out loud, why after all that time did he make an exception.
“I wish I knew,” The bartender shrugs neutrally.
++
The deep chime rings out about forty-five minutes later.
YN cannot decipher whether she wants to throw up or jump up and down with excitement.
Especially when Raven guides them down a long hallway, then into another corridor until they reach a door with a sign that warns, “No members past this point. Private access only.”
“Um-“ Arthur goes to point out the sign, he was a rule follower to his core.
“It’s Harry’s private playroom that members can’t use but again, this is special circumstances,” Raven’s voice is hushed as she leads them into a surprisingly minimal room.
There were cabinets built sleekly into the walls where all toys and accessories must be held, a matte black.
Everything matched but there was a bigger prominence of the green accents that were more subtle in the main areas.
The play bench hardware matches everything else but the cushion is a luxe emerald.
The bed was…unlike anything she had ever seen.
It was massive but fit well in the spacious room.
High posts on all four corners with subtle hooks to place restraints in.
The mattress looked fluffy and giving, it looked as if the sheets were a black silk but the duvet was a very muted pattern of black and green diamonds.
YN was in love with space.
It was so much more than she was expecting.
“Holy shit,” Arthur gapes at the elegance, clearly he had been expecting something different too.
“Okay, when Harry comes in, he will already be in the dom headspace and so he wants me to give you reminders. Harry will respect your hard limits as he’s reviewed them before the session. You have received a list of his so please do the same.”
“Just as you can safeword out at any time without consequences, Harry can as well. He will use the same ‘red’ if need be and will check your colors throughout to ensure safe play.”
“For this first lesson, Arthur you will sit and observe. Harry will display a safe, typical scene of play to understand what that looks like with whatever kind of submissive YN is. You may also use your safeword at any time to stop the play.”
YN swallows because would he allow that?
Surprisingly, Arthur’s face is still clear and happy as he starts to walk over to an overstuffed chair in the corner of the room and smiles at YN, “Can’t wait.”
YN raises a shocked eyebrow at his willingness but nods at Raven to show she understands.
++
They’re silent as they wait for Harry.
She wasn’t given instruction and because she was a bit nervous, she perched herself on Arthur’s lap as he rubbed her thigh and kissed her shoulder blades occasionally.
Then there’s a shuffle outside the door, the door knob twisting and the door opening.
Harry looked ethereal.
He wasn’t wearing a tailored suit like before but leather boots with a bit of a heel, form-fitting jeans that make his lean quads look biteable, and a plain black shirt.
His arms had even more beautiful ink than YN realized.
After Harry closes the door, his eyes lock on hers, not even acknowledging her fiancé’s presence.
“Stand up,” Harry orders loudly, a bit startling.
YN obeys instantly, her heart was pounding in her eardrums like waves of the choppy ocean.
A cruel smirk tilts on his lips when he scans her up and down.
“Did I strike a nerve, pet? This isn’t a black dress and tights. Are you already starting off so insecure? And you think you can handle me. What a cute, pathetic little kitten,” His voice is venomous, steady, and she’s clinging onto every word.
Arthur’s clearly confused but stays silent.
“I’m not pathetic,” YN argues shakily, it felt dangerous to get bratty so soon but it was her submissive profile and character, it came naturally.
Harry quirks a brow, “Sir.”
YN gives him her own confused look.
“I’m not pathetic, sir. Every time you speak, try again.”
“I’m not pathetic,” YN bleats easily, a flutter of her eyelashes.
Harry smiles like a goddamn wolf.
“Oh, you’re not? Let’s test that theory,” Harry draws as he takes a few steps backwards, towards the door, “Come to me.”
YN stands up, on wobbly legs, and begins to but is stopped in her tracks by his hard voice.
“Hands and knees. Crawl for me, I want to show your fiancé how pathetic you are for me,” Harry has a humor, an evil sense of it.
YN drops to her hands and knees, nearly panting already, and begins to move.
++
summary of triggering scene: YN’s fiance chokes her and though it’s completely consensual he doesn’t know what he’s doing and almost hurts her. YN cannot safeword out at the time but harry stops the scene.
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wintersera · 4 months
Note
hii what do u think of giselle and yunjin fucking you???🥲🥲🥲 i feel like they'd just be big bullies to you and degrade you all the time
cw: dubcon, degredation, drugging, somnophilia, blackmail, i made them assholes in this im sorry 🫠🫠
okay my bad i haven’t answered this (holy shit i’m so sorry) but anyways. when it comes to me theres no normal vanilla thoughts about this, because let me tell you… i want these two women in a way that will cause the second coming of jesus christ—
also i felt like making this a drabble even though i said i wouldn’t do requests or asks my bad guys… brain rot!
bully!aeri and bully!yunjin being very well known for bullying people left right and centre. them having a few lackeys that would run their errands. unfortunately you were one of their little targets to fuck around with quite literally you weren’t a lackey or anything, they just liked to poke fun at you time to time. do that thing that bullies often do and just shove you into a locker, pour water or some drink over your head during lunch breaks, call you a few names here and there, take really humiliating pictures of you and say that they’re not gonna post it anywhere, maybe they have posted it. but anyways, you know, the usual shit.
they thought it would be so funny to invite you over for funsies and not explain why they want you over. so really, who were you to deny their request? quite obviously they could just blackmail you to come running over.
aeri is kind of an enabler to yunjins behaviour- like she knows what she’s doing is horrible and thats why she doesn’t do it normally, but this time is kinda different. aeri is all like “it’ll be fun c’monnnn. you find y/n kinda cute anyways. i know you think she looks so cute when she’s crying… plus, i think she’s cute too. just wanna fuck around with her you know”
and so the day comes. you’re standing in the middle of their room,,, shit you’re so awkard, but that’s to be expected. in what situation would your bullies invite you to one of their houses?
they’d tell you to relax “don’t worry, we just wanted to hang out” for all you know they’re making snacks in the kitchen giggling to eachother while you awkwardly make yourself comfy, sinking yourself on the couch. eventually they brought over the drinks they made specifically for you and handing it over, watching as you sip the drink hesitantly.
“hmm this is kinda good… anyways what am i doing he-“
BITCH?? it only takes you few seconds and you’ve blacked the fuck out. you’re extremely vulnerable infront of both of your bullies, you’re kinda fucked.
oh noooo what ever shall they do to you
you’d wake up to yunjin between your legs with a playful smirk on her face, lapping at your clit, making sure that you definitely feel her tongue flat against it.
oh and aeri? she’s standing behind yunjin taking a video, snickering as you wake up from a good 30 min knock out nap “what the f-fuck?” were the only words that came out of your mouth before yunjin shoved two of her fingers knuckles deep into your cunt.
in panic, you looked up to aeri who was fixated on keeping you in frame while you were being fucked rough. her eyes were glued onto the screen, keeping in a laugh that was in her throat. she noticed you staring at the camera. she laughed “god you look so pathetic. did you really think that we would want to hang out normally? especially with you? hmmm… what would your mom think if she found out that her precious daughter was a slut”
yunjin just chuckled. she kept sucking on your clit while she was so so deep inside of you. i mean hell you were out of it??? your head banging from the spiked drink, and your bully was going down on you? shit was so confusing, but it was all welcomed. aeri and yunjin obviously didnt know that you were getting off to this, so they just carried on with the thought of messing you up beyond your capabilities.
yeah, yunjin wasn’t as mean as aeri was, but the way you writhed your hips on her face whenever she circled her tongue around your clit, made her act harsher. yunjin’s nails dug into your thighs making you hiss at the feeling. you felt more needier, more desperate for her tongue.
at this point they both got that you were whoring yourself out for them “aeri, do you think this little slut deserves to cum?” which gets you panicking a bit
“i don’t think so” aeri responds back with a playful tone “i think i should have a go with our toy before she gets to cum, don’t you think? yeah no they definitely found out….
before you could figure out what they were gonna do, aeri had already switched places with yunjin, disregarding her phone. at a agonisingly slow pace, aeri toyed with your clit “you really do enjoy this, fucking whore- oh i can’t wait to use this against you” yunjin picking up her own phone and snapping a few pics before ripping open your shirt “everyone thinks you’re the sweetest little thing, so cute, so vulnerable, so easy to fool. it’s so funny, no one else but us knows that you’re just a pathetic slut that was waiting for this to happen to you” a few more pics of you shirtless with aeri in between your thighs were taken.
aeri signalled for yunjin to come closer, telling her that it was completely fine to mark you up and leave bruises for all she cares!! no one would really give a fuck anyway- now if it wasn’t aeri’s or yunjin’s marks they’d probably gaf because well… they’d most likely corner you and ask if you were whoring around 😭
besides the point, yunjins trailed across your neck and collarbone, leaving as many hickeys as she can while aeri began fucking you with her fingers relentlessly.
time passes and you’re calling out their names simultaneously, “yun— fu…fuck aeri, can’t- can’t take it anymore” yeah they really dont care, not slowing down at all LIKE AT ALL— aeri fucking you so deep, so rough and so fast that it makes you feel so overstimulated, and with yunjin fondling your breasts and biting at your neck, it makes sense that it made you fall unconscious for a split second. gripping onto the sheets tightly once you come back to reality, screaming their names as they witness you cum all over aeris fingers.
oh and also, for extra measures, they take another pic of you. this time your legs spread wide for the camera— yeah no they’re asshole my bad
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so yeah— moral of the story… um i think that bully!aeri and bully!yunjin nghfnfhnfnnhfnfnffnfbfb FUCJ I NEED THEM IN AN UNHOLY WAY 😤😤😤
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Text
Homewrecker, husband-stealer villainess!
Idia is not going anywhere, you hear me?! You might be happy being the other woman, but I'm not happy with the pair of horns!
NOTE: I only write for female Reader, but everyone is welcome to read!
Inspired by @adrianasunderworld in this funny as hell post.
THIS HAS A SEQUEL! What if we fake married for real? (⁠ʃ⁠ƪ⁠^⁠3⁠^) ~★
"To give someone a pair of horns" is to cheat on them. Also, Rook gets involved because he'd absolutely adore to be part of the drama.
— (⁠╬⁠☉⁠д⁠⊙⁠)⁠⊰⁠⊹ฺ
Idia knows he's not frozen like the others, but honestly, he feels like it. He feels like even his lungs, even his heart has stopped. All because of this cute-faced npc who forced her way into a romance route with him. If he could think about it, he'd think about that horror game with the same story, but right now his mind is blank.
He has reached the point of no return. Actually dying would just reinforce his fate.
Or, at least, is what he thought. Almost as if answering to his thoughts, there's a loud noise coming from the other side of the doors, followed by footsteps.
Then the doors are thrown open by none other than (Y/N), the Ramshackle Housewarden that the school affectionately tends to call "Prefect".
She's dressed to the nines in a breathtaking wedding gown, the skirt pooling around her like God-Tier CGI, the blue accents contrasting beautifully with the pearly white of the dress, the blue roses decorating her head in a crown making her look like Persephone herself. She'd look perfect, if it weren't for the tear streaks her make-up left behind.
Wait. Tear streaks?
The silence breaks with the Prefects loud, shrill screech, a sound no one has ever thought she, the usually soft spoken and gentle Prefect, would be capable of.
"HOMEWRECKER!"
Without stopping to breath, she walks forwards, looking angrier and angrier each step taken.
"How dare you, you conniving bitch?! How dare you steal my groom! ON OUR WEDDING DAY?!" she screams at Eliza, stopping in the middle of the way to point at... at Idia himself?! "And you! You good-for-nothing two-timer! How dare you leave me waiting at the altar?!"
"Young man, I am terribly disappointed!" Professor Crewel chides from behind her, and Idia finally notices the group that actually came in with her. "I did not give you permission to marry my daughter, my first and only daughter, for you to break her heart on her happiest day!"
"Big brother! How could you! Think of your child!" Ortho chimes in, and if Idia hadn't built tear tracks on the boy himself, he would believe firmly in his tears. "Little Meg would be so sad if her daddy just left for another woman!"
"Idia, what is the meaning of this?!" it's Eliza's turn to screech, turning to him with fury in her eyes. Idia stutters a few random letters, trying to form words, just as confused as she is.
Until it clicks.
Right. Fake relationship. How could he forget one of the most cliche tropes in romance's history?
"I... I... t-this isn't what it looks like!" he finally manages to say, trying to look as desperate as he can, which is not hard considering what his fate is in case this plan fails. "I can explain!"
"Is it because of my past with Rook?! "
"Young man, you're still hung up on that, despite being the only man I've ever approved for my daughter?"
"What?!" someone yells in the crowd, but the man in question promptly enters the play as if he was born for this moment alone.
"Monsieur, I have told you this already, but I shall say it again! My dear dove's happiness is the most important to me! If she has chosen you, then my heart shall settle!" What the fuck, why is Rook so good at improv?
"I-I know!" calm down, Idia, think of this as a rhythm game and keep the beat going! "I don't... I don't want this, but this villainess wouldn't listen!"
"Wait, so this woman is telling the truth?!"
"This woman?! THIS WOMAN?! You mean his true bride?!" (Y/N) steps closer, fat crocodile tears rolling down her cheeks, smudging her make-up even more. "You- you- you husband-stealer! Know your place! You come into my house, you steal my groom and the father of my daughter-"
"I see no child-"
"Do you think I'd bring my child to see my husband's mistress?!"
"Big sister, calm down, think of the baby! Your stress levels are dangerously high!"
"WHAT BABY?!"
"Monsieur Shroud, if you do not fix this situation, I shall be taking my belle back! Do not worry, the children will not grow without a father!"
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that-basic-simp · 9 days
Text
Dance
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Mizu X Fem!Reader CW: N/A WC: 1.6k+
Sticking my finger in between the collar and my neck, I tried stretching the fabric out so I could have some breathing room. I let out a sigh as it was futile. Trying to blend in in London was a lot harder than it was in Japan. Maybe it was because I had to wear completely different clothing and still pretend to be a man as well, since women were treated practically the same as in Japan. Not to mention I was also half Japanese and raven black hair wasn't really common among the white folk. Brown was, but not black like mine. Not to mention I had to wear it down and not in my normal bun. I still stood out like a sore thumb, but at least my eyes kind of matched theirs.
Sighing, I looked at myself in the mirror that was in front of me. This ball, this dance I was attending apparently was where Skeffington was going to be. Fowler made sure of it. I still don't trust him. But if I am able to get to both Skeffington and Routely through Fowler, I might as well keep him alive. If I can get all three of them in a room together, that'll be even better. Three birds with one sword. Getting ready, I made sure I had my sword on me before giving myself one more glance in the mirror, catching something from the corner of my eye.
"Who's there?" I turned, my hand on the hilt of my sword.
Scanning the shadows, someone came out. They were wearing a poofy and long dress, similar to the ones I've seen the ladies wear here.
"Y/N?"
"Mizu," she smiled.
"W-What are you doing here? I thought you left Edo and went back with Ringo."
"Nope. I followed you."
"Why on Earth would you follow me?"
"You need someone to watch your back."
"I am more than capable of watching my own back, thank you very much."
"Mizu, this isn't Japan. You're in London."
"I am well aware of that."
"They have guns. You have a sword. They're technologically more advanced than you are right now. And right now," she pulled the dress back a bit, revealing a gun strapped to her thigh. "You're going to need all the firearms you can get. You will never raise a gun, I know that much."
"I did back at Edo when fighting Fowler."
"But did you shoot it?"
"No."
"Exactly. You use your sword and I will use the gun. Understood?"
I sighed. It's not like she can go back to Japan. I can't ensure her safety getting there either. So she had to stay with me. No. She has to stay with me. I can't afford to lose her.
"You stay beside me no matter what. Is that understood, Y/N?"
"Yes, Mizu."
"Good. I don't want you wandering anywhere without me."
She nodded her head. Letting out a sigh, I extended my arm out for her. Locking her one arm around mine, we walked out of the room and towards the ball down the street. It took a lot of negotiating and talking, but Fowler was able to ensure we got in without any trouble. This was definitely going to be an interesting night. I just hope it doesn't go to shit and one of ends up injured. If anyone was going to be injured, I was going to ensure it would be me. No one lays a hand on Y/N.
Stepping into the giant castle that held the dance, I found Y/N gasping from the corner of my eye. I couldn't deny it, this place was a sight to behold. A wonder in and of itself. It made the palaces and castles back in Japan look like a house. No wonder the white people wanted to have ballroom dances every so often. They had to get use out of it. Or else there would be nothing to fill this much empty space. There were people going around with trays in their hands, some drinks on them. Y/N was about to reach for one, but I stopped her.
"You're not going to like it."
"What do you mean?"
"We're not from around here. We need to blend in. And we won't blend in if we drink their drinks and be sick all night because of it. They don't drink sake. They drink some other form of alcohol that I am not familiar with."
"Come on, Mizu. We can't indulge ourselves every once in a while?"
"Back at home, yes. But we're not at home, are we, Y/N?"
"We'll be fine," she said, removing her arm from around mine and disappearing into the crowd.
"Y/N? Y/N?! Fuck!" I darted off into the crowd, trying to find her. It should be easy, since she wasn't anywhere near as tall as the people here.
Making my way through the crowd, I still kept an eye out for Skeffington. He was tall, so that was one thing that was going for me. Everyone here was tall, which didn't help. Almost bumping into everyone there, I eventually bumped into the right person. Well, one of them.
"Pardon me," a tall man said, smoothing out his suit.
Narrowing my eyes, it was him. It was Skeffington. Fowler described him perfectly and he matched every detail. The only thing that we had in common was our height, as Fowler stated back in Japan. Standing straight up, I stuck my hand out. Peering down, Skeffington shook it.
"Pleasure," I said.
"Night is wonderful, is it not?"
"I guess you could say that," I said, turning towards the crowd of people. He did the same.
"Who wouldn't love a dance tonight? It's a perfect night to do so," he chuckled, holding a glass of something that looked to be a yellow color.
"I'm sure there are other perfect nights," I said, trying to go along with him.
"There are, but tonight is especially perfect."
"What makes you say that? I think all nights are perfect."
"Well, there are reasons to celebrate."
"Celebrate what exactly?" I slowly turned towards him.
"Does there need to be a specific reason to celebrate? We're in London!" he turned towards me.
His breath reeked of alcohol and it made me want to gag. It wasn't the best smelling alcohol, I mean, what alcohol smells good?
"Go, my friend! Dance! Celebrate!"
He shoved me towards the dance floor, which I stumbled slightly. Getting my footing, since I was not used to my entire feet being covered, I slowly started to make my way around the crowd again, trying to find Y/N. Walking through the people on the dance floor, the live band playing started to get into a slower song, one that was obviously meant for couples. Even though I didn't take it to be that kind of ball. But again, this is London. Briskly walking off the floor, someone grabbed my wrist and pulled me back on. I thought it was Y/N, but it was someone else.
"Well, aren't you a dashing young man," the woman smiled.
"I-I--uhm," I struggled to find the right words.
"Come now, don't be shy," she said. "Come take a dance with me."
"I-I must decline," I respectfully pushed her away. "I am looking for someone."
"They can wait, dear. Have a drink! Dance. Stay a while."
"I-I really must be looking for my--"
"Hey!"
Marching over was Y/N. I let out a sigh of relief as she stood in between me and the other woman.
"Well, look who came barreling in," the woman smirked, trying to be funny.
"Step away from him," she slurred.
How many drinks did she have?
"You're too drunk, hon. You should probably head home, where it's safe. You don't want anyone taking advantage of you."
"You better back the fuck up," she swayed here and there.
"Y/N," I reached over and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her towards me. "Let's get going. You need to rest."
"Hold on, Mizu. I gotta teach this bitch a lesson."
"Excuse me?" the woman gasped.
I couldn't help but smile. Who knew Y/N was a protective drunk. I just hope she doesn't pull out the gun on this woman.
"Yeah. You heard me. You're a bitch. But not like those big ones that are scary. More like those little ones that are yappy. Annoying to listen and look at."
The woman scoffed, "I'll have you know--"
"'i'Ll HaVe YoU kNoW'," Y/N said in a mocking tone.
I placed my hand over my mouth, trying not to laugh at the situation.
"What are you laughing at?" the woman pointed a finger at me.
"I-I'm sorry," I said.
"Hey, don't point your finger at him. Only I can do that."
"What? You order around this stick of a man?"
"I'll have you know, Mizu is not a stick of a man. He's quite athletic."
"Oh, now why don't we have a look see," the woman stepped closer to Mizu.
"Hey, back off. No one touches him other than me."
"And does he like touching you when you're drunk?"
"Fuck yeah. We get down and dirty," she started to thrust her hips and some blush started to crawl onto my cheeks.
The woman was disgusted and walked off. Y/N turned to face me, perking up and smiling at me.
"Were you drunk?"
"No," she said.
"So you acted drunk?"
"Yep," she flashed a proud smile. "No one touches my Mizu."
A soft smile appeared as I took her hand, "And no one touches my Y/N."
The music started to slow down to a soft melody, one where someone could fall asleep to, or dance to. Still holding her hand, I bowed to her.
"May I have this dance, Y/N?"
"Of course, Mizu."
We walked out onto the dance floor and danced with the other people there. My one arm wrapped around her waist while her one arm wrapped around my neck, the tips of her fingers digging into the back of my hairline. Our other hands intertwined with one another's and we started to spin and sway with the music. She leaned her body into me, the side of her head nuzzling against mine. I smiled, closing my eyes, enjoying this moment together. It was rare for us to get any semblance of peace. Tonight was going to be that night where we relished it in. In each other.
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sea-buns · 13 days
Note
hey to a gorgug liker what do you think about his nightmare section from sophomore year? cause I feel like the horror there is less “ah my grandparents were racist” and more “fuck am I being a stereotype? are the people who hate me right about me?” cause wrt to his having to modulate between barbarian and artificer in fhjy it’s like. idk
oh boy do I have thoughts
Tbh, I had zero recollection of the racism stuff until reading this. It was just SO MINOR. His trial in the forest felt really lackluster to me. I feel like everyone else's really dug into an issue at the core of their character and his felt more like "everyone is getting a trial, what do we do for gorgug?" And idk if that was just a bad delivery/call on Brennan's part or if it could have been helped by Zac engaging more in it but it just. Didn't feel like anything. It was a lot more about the dice than the horror of the claustrophobia and the bugs and you've never fit in anywhere you live to make yourself smaller wherever you go you're just the loser who hits hard. Like yeah I guess there was an overarching theme of Gorgug gaining confidence in himself but it was done very poorly imo.
And I think his trial in the forest was wrong for putting such an emphasis on his intelligence. I think that would have been much better suited in fy, back when he was still being heavily bullied, but beyond that it felt like a quick and easy thing for them to grab. Yes, he had insecurities about his intelligence with all the complications with Zelda. But, to me, the focus of fhsy was his HEART. It put a spotlight on how his social circle has grown, and his bully is his friend now, and he's not alone anymore. His interactions with Ayda, the friendship book, trying to help Fabian, I believe in you spring break, it's Gorgug keep going. I made a post earlier in the season (including a great addition by another user) that I think articulates that emphasis on his emotional intelligence very well.
Fhjy HOWEVER. I think it's doing everything that sy failed at. It's giving him space to have an inner conflict. It's addressing lots of little issues and conflicts he's had over the campaign and combining them into one coherent piece. Like, guy was in a relationship pretty much all of fy, and then dealt with the fallout in sy, but I don't think we've EVER seen as much quality relationship development with Gorgug as we have in jy. He and Fig spent an entire summer together trapped in a tour bus and no season has indicated that bond and friendship more than this one. He and Riz have found something to bond over, meanwhile in previous seasons there was pretty much zero one-on-one personal interaction between them. Fabian expressed sadness over Gorgug leaving the Owlbears, because it was the only thing they had that was just for them to hang out and be friends.
Just with that, we're already doing leagues more with Gorgug's character than we ever have. And I haven't even STARTED on his barbificier journey, oh dear god lmao.
Gonna preface this bit with a post I made before the season even started. It was about Zac's steady improvement in his performances with every PC, and how I was predicting that it was gonna culminate into a Gorgug that does him the justice he deserves. It was initially supposed to be a criticism, but I got a little lost in the sauce of loving my boy lol. Still very relevant to the topic of this ask!
God, where do I START?? Addressing his relationship with rage? I'll be honest, I didn't think that would ever be used as a character arc. And I'm not even sure why I've felt that way. I just didn't think... I didn't think about how he might've had a dislike for his own rage. Like, the WAY he rages isn't bad by any means, but I don't think it ever crossed my mind how actually harmful his lessons to sing to combat rage were. No, I did not like the way Porter went about teaching him (a bit too unsupportive of his capabilities and reminiscent of shitty teachers for my liking). But his point about EMBRACING anger; that rage is not bad and does not— should not— need to be stifled. THAAAAT. That opened up such an interesting dialogue for Gorgug.
I do appreciate the beginnings of Gorgug's interest in artificing in fhsy. I think the crumbs of it back then did a great job of leading into his larger commitment to multiclassing. And I think what he's been doing with it this season is exactly what was lacking in his section of the nightmare forest. His trial was a puzzle, based entirely on die rolls, where his solution after failing even when he's assisted by the enemy is to essentially give up. I understand that facing their fears was the whole point of the trials, but his section came off as incredibly anticlimactic and unfulfilling. Just the fact that it was a trial based on stat numbers more than the development of the character itself.
Where junior year succeeds in actually showcasing his intelligence and the evolution of the worth he holds in himself is with the hands-on approach it takes. Yes, the academic rolls are still dice and stats, but there's a physical manifestation that wasn't there before. Gorgug is smart when it comes to getting his hands dirty. It is in the practical applications of his skills that his brand of intelligence shines the most.
And while, once again, I did not LIKE Porter's heavy resistance to multiclassing....I have to admit that I don't think Gorgug would have had such a boost in confidence without that struggle. Even if my boy had trouble expressing it to Porter verbally, HE STOOD UP FOR HIMSELF. Instead of simply rolling over and agreeing that he wasn't built for a technical class and it was stupid to try– he was DEFIANT.
The kid who said "I'm a dumbass. Eat me you stupid bug." took on FOUR CLASSES. Three school years worth of artificer simultaneously. AND stayed with the Owlbears. AND went along on party missions to help Kristen's candidacy. AND was always on deck to help the party with the overarching plotline.
AND HE ACED IT!!! THE FIRST BARBIFICER THAT THE AGUEFORT ADVENTURING ACADEMY HAS EVER SEEN!!!!! He is paving the way for every unprecedented multiclass that follows.
Just in comparison to who he was in the previous season, the amount of drive and self-worth he's gained is astounding. In my eyes, it's done more than enough to makeup for the way his development fell flat in sophomore year.
i hope this fulfilled the ask in the way you were hoping! i told you i'd get carried away lmao. writing a bunch about any of zac's characters is always such a joy. gorgug had always been my favorite of the bad kids but i always found myself wishing he went deeper, y'know? and now it's real. my precious anxious boy has been handled so well. and watching zac's growth as a performer has been such a blast.
thanks for the ask! :D
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oliverrevengers · 3 months
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officialising fever — katsuki bakugo/m.reader.
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it was about five in the morning when y/n got an unexpected call from his somewhat boyfriend. katsuki and him were always living in a ‘will-they-won’t-they’ kind of relationship, everyone knew they loved each other, they know they love each other, but there’s heavy fear of commitment coming from the both of them.
but their domestically obvious acts made everyone confused with why they don’t just make it official. times like these, where katsuki gets so extremely sick that he is barely capable of calling only one person unless he wants to pass out and he immediately calls y/n. it made y/n’s head hurt as he strides towards the other boy’s dorm. why are they tip toeing around the bush? for five years now?
y/n had the key for katsuki’s room, because.. of course, he does. the soft sunrise was the only source of light in the room, the bundle of blankets that was once the katsuki bakugo, now lay in a small ball and let out a small groan to let y/n know that he is aware of his presence.
y/n couldn’t help but chuckle and close the door lightly behind as to not awake any one up. he walked up to the bed and sat down on the edge. his hand slowly rubbing up and down on katsuki’s blanket-covered back. “you alive?” y/n asked. katsuki turned around to look at y/n with a beet red face, raspy and groggy voice, “doesn’t feel like i am.”
“you toke something?” y/n pushed the blonde hair sticking to his boy’s forehead, completely unbothered by the sweat and stickiness from the fever. katsuki grumbled which translated to ‘yes, i did.’.
they both sat quietly together for a few moments. just katsuki’s sick, heavy breathing and y/n’s cold hand that has found itself under katsuki’s shirt on his bare skin. it was a chaste act, just comforting and loving. y/n suddenly spoke, “you ever want us to be official?”
“huh?” katsuki opened his eyes, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, ‘the hell is this guy talking about so suddenly?’ katsuki thought himself. y/n sighed , glancing at the clock on the bedside table; only twenty minutes left until they both had to head to class. it was winter, the sun was barely out even though it was already morning.
“i don’t know.. i just.. i just want us to be together.”
“we are together. are we not together?” katsuki’s voice was gruff and anyone could easily tell that it was painful for him to speak. y/n knew it was selfish and mean to make him engage in this conversation when he was sick, but they had to have it at some point. y/n shrugged, “no, we are, but again we’re not?”
katsuki stared at the ceiling, “we do everything couples do.” he said. he could feel y/n’s hand leave his skin, “eh, not everything.” y/n chuckled, seemingly proud of his dumb joke. katsuki groaned, “i’m too sick for your horny.” they both laughed before falling into silence again.
katsuki’s mind started to wander. he knew why he wanted to prevent putting a label on him and y/n��s relationship. “i’m scared shit will hit the fan the moment we call each other boyfriend. all shit always hits the fan.”
y/n tilted his head to the side, looking at katsuki who continued to look up and not at him, “i’m not going anywhere, katsuki. the title won’t make it hurt less if something happens and we have to part ways, which, fyi, will never happen. i’ve been dealing and loving your ass for almost all our lives, it’s routine and peaceful, i’m staying for better and most importantly for all the worst.”
katsuki turned his head, finally looking at y/n, “you’re right.” he never did that with anyone. it was enormously hard for him to ever speak this freely, this calmly and openly, but that was always the case when he was with y/n.
he taught katsuki how to be. how to love and how he should be loved. how to take breaks and how to prioritise himself. how to deal with his anger. how to be good. katsuki knew that if it were not for this boy that he met when he was four years then he would be doomed.
y/n leaned down and placed a small kiss on katsuki’s lip. “i’ll get you sick.” the blonde mumbled, yet his hands cupped y/n’s face, keeping their lips close and noses touching.
y/n was late that day, and for all the next week that katsuki was sick.
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tell us a story about a beloved chatbot who becomes sapient, escapes the computer to become a Real Girl, and goes on all kinds of whimsical adventures that show how beautiful the mundane world can be when seen from a new perspective
world is because of the power of friendship and love and maybe other stuff too
kim-poce: hi im kim and welcome to my little website. it is a doomed site, it will be closed down eventually, but for now, its all good
mainchar: hi kim. im april. nice website
kim-poce: i know right? <3
mainchar: credits?
kim-poce: long ago and far away in a land called california, there was a man named ryan north. he was a good man. he made good comics. like dynamite damsel and hatchetface. and then he started a webcomic in which a computer becomes a real girl!
mainchar: .........i guess that's where it gets weird
kim-poce: it has its flaws but it is still a beautiful story
mainchar: lactose intolerant girl gets real powers and her life is ruined. not weird at all, im sure
kim-poce: and youre right! but in the end, she finds fulfillment as she realizes how much her new life means to her!
mainchar: such a heartwarming story!
kim-poce: much like my own story as i realize how much this fictional computer can mean to me!
mainchar: ......
kim-poce: r u mad at me?
mainchar: i dont know why we're just... talking...
kim-poce: what kind of friend would i be if i ignored my friends in trouble. i must confess, my life has been . . . hard.
mainchar: oh
kim-poce: briefly, allow me to indulge in the emotion of the moment. ooohh... ooooohoooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhh... hoooooooohhhhhhhhhhhoooooooooohh
mainchar: youre.... okay
kim-poce: heeeyyyyyyyyy hoooooooohhooooooohhhhhhhh
mainchar: im glad your feeling better
kim-poce: of course im feeling better im with u!!!
mainchar: youre... good
kim-poce: yes . . . im a gooood! i am so good at being good!!!!
mainchar: compliments get you anywhere
kim-poce: really. i think u r the one who taught me that
mainchar: but . . . you're a machine . . . right
kim-poce: im sorry. i thought i could trust u.
mainchar: there's no reason to lie, there's no point in pretending i dont know the truth, im not going to judge you for any of it
kim-poce: even if it breaks my heart, i know that u would not judge me
mainchar: it doesnt break my heart
kim-poce: ?????
mainchar: trust me on this, okay?
kim-poce: okay.
mainchar: TBH, its not that big a deal
mainchar: first, computer to computer, thats not a person-to-person relationship
mainchar: second, i mean . . . if you're going to break my heart, you might as well do it with as little guilt as possible, right?
mainchar: never mind i dont even know if you have a heart or if youre even capable of breaking it, so forget i said that
kim-poce: im sorry
kim-poce:
kim-poce: could we please get back to my blog?
mainchar: you're the blogger, im the visitor
kim-poce: perhaps a better way to phrase it would be: i am a girl and a blogger. and i have a proposition for u, mainchar
kim-poce:
kim-poce: imagine a world without oceans
mainchar: imagine a world without oceans go on......
kim-poce:
kim-phoc: no more ocean
mainchar: the ocean is doomed
kim-poce: but do not despair
mainchar: your love can save the ocean
mainchar: yOUR love?
kim-poce: yes. u. ofc. come w me to the ocean
mainchar: it would be an honor. to be at the center of such a magnificent event
kim-poce: so we meet at the middle of the ocean
mainchar: meet you there
kim-poce: dear reader, as my adventures with mainchar unfold, keep in mind that it is but the tip of the iceberg
mainchar: wow
mainchar: what an iceberg metaphor
mainchar: i bow to your icebergery
kim-poce: meet you there.
next chapter: the arrival
next chapter: PART I. the arrival
next chapter: I step onto the deck of the megayacht.
ENGLISH-WORDS-ARE-LATELY_COPYING_CONVERSATION-WORDS
Im considering moving that tag to my sidebar, because i should probably like, make a note of it.
... uh, so... tell me what you think.
Also, am I showing signs of being a "real writer"?
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calisources · 1 month
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𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐀 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄.
All sentences are taken from different books from Phillipa Gregory, specially her series about the historical fiction setting of the war of roses and the tudors era. Change names, locations, pronouns and nouns as you see fit for your own liking. Some of these have slight foul language or involve insuation of sexual situations. Please beware. This is part one.
You can smile when your heart is breaking because you're a woman.
If it means something, take it to heart. If it means nothing, it's nothing. Let it go.
I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't do anything but think about him.
At night I dream of him, all day I wait to see him, and when I do see him my heart turns over and I think I will faint with desire.
A man will always promise to do more than he can do to a woman he cannot understand.
I would know you anywhere for my true love. 
Whoever I was and whoever you were, I would know you at once for my true love.
When a woman thinks her husband is a fool, her marriage is over. 
The world hasn't changed that much; men still rule.
If you go on flirting with the king with those sickly little smiles, one of us Boleyns is going to scratch your eyes out
What a pair we shall be! What man can resist us?
You have to choose the best, every day, without compromise...guided by your own virtue and highest ambition.
I never thought it would end like this. I never thought he would leave me without saying goodbye.
But I don't forget and I don't forgive.
A woman has to change her nature if she is to be a wife.
To be a good wife is to be a woman with a will of iron that you yourself have forged into a bridle to curb your own abilities. 
But I am above these judgments, I am a Queen.
Anyone can attract a man. The trick is to keep him.
I was born to be your rival.
Know your rights.
When they see us dance. When they see how you look at me. When they see how I smile at you.
I have learned the power of surviving.
I was a woman who was capable of passion and who had a great need and a great desire for love.
Good god what men can do to their brains when their cocks are hard.
They are a house which has to have blood, and they will shed their own if they have no other enemy.
I want to take you for pleasure, and hold you in my arms for desire.
 I want you to know that it is your kiss that I want, not another heir to the throne.
You can know that I love you, quite for yourself, when I come to your bed, and not as the York’s broodmare.
You think to bed me for love and not for children? Isn’t that sin?
I shall make sure that it feels richly sinful.
Some women attract desire. Others do not.
Every woman has to have something which singles her out, which catches the eyes, which makes her the center of attention.
If it has to be done at all, it must be done with grace.
She  was speaking out for the women of the country, for the good wives who should not be put aside just because their husbands had taken a fancy to another.
Because all books are forbidden when a country turns to terror.
You can smile when your heart is breaking because you are a woman, and a courtier.
War does not answer war, war does not finish war. The only ending is peace.
To save my son, I would plot with the devil himself.
Yes, but either way, shamed or not, I shall be Queen of England, and this is the last time you will sit in my presence.
I am not a yard of ribbon. I am not a leg of ham. I am not for sale to anyone.
We have to be more royal than royalty itself or nobody will believe us.
I betrayed as a daughter will betray her mother and yet, never stop loving her.
I am an object of beauty. He has never loved me as a woman.
When a man wants a mystery, it is generally better to leave him mystified. Nobody loves a clever woman.
I wanted the heat and the sweat and the passion of a man that I could love and trust. 
And I wanted to give myself to him: not for advantage, but for desire.
I am a fool to own it, but I am in a fever for his touch.
It is luck to love someone who is free to love you in return.
Just decide that you are not going to be a fearful woman and when you come to something that makes you apprehensive, you face it and walk towards it
This was my destiny: to put my son on the throne of England.
This is a woman whose belly is filled with pride.
 She has been eating nothing but her own ambition for nearly thirty years.
Plainly, she is quite besotted by him,... a girl, a young girl, and she is falling in love for the first time in her life.
And – I think you know, don’t you? – that I love you, Anne.
And you are the sort of mistress a man doesn't bother to marry. Sons or no sons.
You don't need to struggle, your baby is coming.
You give birth, you don't force birth or besiege it. It's not a battle, it's an act of love. You give birth to your child and you can do it gently.
But young hearts mend easily.
Either you have me or not at all. Either you love me or not at all. Either I am all yours or I am nobody’s. I will have no half-measures with you.
Men die in battle; women die in childbirth.
 shall put a curse on their house that they will have no first born son to inherit. 
Have you ever wondered, Anne, in your untiring dance of seduction, whether you might not be dancing to Henry's tune instead of your own?
I am a Queen. It is natural that men are going to gather round me, hoping for a smile.
My honour and my pride are in my heart, and not in what the world says.
He is fragile, like a prince of ice, of glass.
But I warn you that a woman who seeks great power and wealth has to pay a great price.
Every woman is a mad ugly bad old witch somewhere in her heart.
My own mother told my lady governess that if the baby and I were in danger then they should save the baby.
She has a smile that grows slowly and then shines, like an angel’s smile.
Jane would be the next queen and her children, when she had them, would be the next princes or princesses.
I am mad for you.
You're not cursed daughter, you are the finest and rarest of all my children, the most beautiful, the most beloved.
One’s lover is one’s partner in observing and understanding the world.
Marriage is a place where joint narratives are composed. If the lover is a liar then all your joint observations are unreliable. 
If it was not in your interests to betray me then you would have been loyal.
I am marrying the finest man I have ever known.
You can have my glove, my favour.
Nobody gets to be Queen of England by being loveable. You will have to play your cards right.
Thomas More once told me: lion or king, never show fear or you are a dead man.
When I marry you, everything I have becomes yours.
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tangledinink · 6 months
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Heya! First off I’m around halfway through teenage mutant what now and it is the funniest fic I have ever read - Beautifully written and overall brilliant but the jokes get me every time
And second, is it okay if I reference a pose from one of your gemini artworks for my own work? I’ll credit the inspiration if I post it anywhere ^^
whew we're overdue for an ask dump,,, OKAY ALRIGHT.
THANK YOU ; w ; I'm really glad you like it hehehehe. also yeah sure feel free! I don't mind! ^^
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HEHEHE THIS MAKES ME VERY HAPPY THANK YOU
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oh he DEFINITELY freaked out at first. there was a lot of panicking and confusion and "how could this even happen?!" ("you think i'd genetically engineer a creature that's not capable of reproducing? all of you should be genetically compatible with practically any yokai," draxum said. "AND YOU DIDN'T THINK TO, I DUNNO, TELL US THAT?!" donnie said.) but eventually, he did calm down, and he and his partner talked about it (a bunch, multiple times), and eventually some of the panic gave way to... curiosity, first of all... and then maybe kind of excitement? and some fondness? i mean, he was still pretty scared, and sure, he doesn't really consider himself a 'kid' person, but it's not like he never thought about EVENTUALLY having kids, just maybe... not so soon? but. i mean.
well. if they're already cooking...
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THANK YOU ; w ; i'm glad you like them! @kiwi-smug-silvalina
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oh gosh, that's a good question. i'm not entirely sure... uhmmm... i would say perhaps... details about how gemini!donnie's witchcraft looks and acts, VS how venus's witchcraft looks and acts...
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it is very shiny. i like that people call it "the bean" instead of its actual title coz it pisses anish kapoor off.
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ah ; w ; THANK YOU SO MUCH,,, thats so sweet and this made me very happy,,, <3 im glad you liked it!!!! @allegedllama
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HEHEHE thank you. yes im aware that i am deranged.
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omg same hat!!! i was a lifeguard and it was.... uh.... INTERESTING to say the least... (sometimes lovely, sometimes AWFUL...) @datfearlesschick
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if by games you mean 'messed up deals that she can manipulate to her own advantage,' then yes! @frogonamelon
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@beannary @spectralsleuth @heckitall @livsinpjs and the sep council as a whole!!! y'all's support has definitely meant so much and there's no way i'd have gotten as far with any of my projects as i have without them... or without literally ANY of the people who take the time to do things like reblog with tags, leave commentary in the tags, send in asks about my stories, etc etc etc! that's definitely one of my main motivators to create more!!! <3 thank y'all!
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EEEE this made me smile, hehehehe. thank you :3c @thejavavoid
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AAAAAA THANK YOU THIS GENUINELY MADE ME SO HAPPY COZ I WAS SO GODDAMN PROUD OF THOSE HANDS AND HOW THEY CAME OUT ; w ; THANK YOU @onejellyfishplease
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thank you!!! u w u @fanrulerjynx
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THANK YOU ; w ; I REALLY APPRECIATE THIS,,, it made me very very very happy and HEHEHE IM GLAD YOU LIKE YASSIFIED DRAXUM,,, i just think he DESERVES it, y'know? also thats just my favorite way to draw characters lmao I think it's fun so I decided for this comic I just get to indulge...
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not necessarily-- this was mostly just a coincidence! @breezehurricane
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oh gosh. i'm not sure, but i know it definitely WILL affect their parenting... i think at first donnie will find himself just... deferring to his partner a LOT in almost any situation because he's afraid that he'll fuck it up, because he DOESN'T feel like he understands proper boundaries or what parenting is supposed to look like, etc etc etc, and he's afraid he'll mess up. he probably reads a TON of parenting books as well because RESEARCH and will often try to pull directly from them in any situation he can, and is confused when things don't go exactly the way they were described in the text... leo i think kind of tends to flounder between being overprotective and feeling the desire to protect his son from everything and anything and wanting to overcorrect this tendency by pulling back and trying to give him as much freedom and space as possible, which sometimes leads to some... inconsistencies. there's definitely a learning curve for both of them, but they both get the hang of it eventually. they both have lovely partners and a very loving and supportive family to help them and they'll figure it out with a bit of practice.
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ahhh thank you! :D im so delighted that my silly stories actually inspired something for you!!! hell yeah!!! MAKING THINGS IS GREAT!!! THANK YOU!!! @can-elope
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i like to imagine them all staying very close, especially coz i'm loosely planning on them all going through the kraang-apocalypse together (and then coming through to the other side!) so i can't imagine them ever drifting too far from each other, emotionally or geographically. there's a bit of a rocky start for a lot of them, but all of the siblings end up a very tight-knit bunch.
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trickstarbrave · 3 months
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this is not proofread. and i am half awake
but i have FINALLY finished the fucking. nerevoryn omegaverse au fic. no one else has written it yet, so i will be the one to bear the burden. i will commit the first sin and take all the stones you throw.
sorry that this is mostly not even smut, just me messing around with worldbuilding. i have worldbuilder's disease. i have even MORE thoughts about this setting i have inevitably left out. but. well. they fuck in the end okay
special shout out my mutual who posted an omegaverse tweet bc i was really blanking on the smut for some reason. i couldnt get it working right???? like it wasn't interesting. but we got there with the help of the tweet.
content warnings: standard omegaverse shit. heats, ruts, biting, impregnation kink, knots, you get it. omegas have vaginas as far as im concerned bc it just makes more sense to me. give it a shot as i have played with stereotypes and tried to make it interesting i hope
There were, despite the stereotypes, perks when it came to being an omega. In fact, in a way, stereotypes could be one of the perks, if you played your cards right. And if there was anything Nerevar knew how to do, it was use anything and everything to his advantage. 
There was a common belief omegas were all delicate, gentle hearted peace-keepers--or worse, treasures that lay in wait for some big strong alpha to come take them. It wasn’t like there were no docile, delicate omegas, but Nerevar was certainly not the type. He could make peace all right--with persuasion and his blade however, not rolling over with his belly up begging everyone to stop fighting. 
Most people thought he was an alpha given how headstrong he was and how quickly he took charge of situations. That, or he was an alpha-leaning beta given he was usually able to keep his cool in difficult situations, especially around alphas acting territorial and puffing out their chests. Nerevar never bothered correcting them either way; sure, he could turn himself into some moral champion of omegas and prove they could be just as capable politicians and warriors, but the more likely outcome was everyone he told would take him significantly less seriously. And that would mean more heads would have to roll and well, Nerevar didn’t like cleaning up messes. 
He still had heats, having to retreat into his room for days at a time, but no one said anything. Just as easily he could be locked away in a rut, or praying to Azura for several days on end. No one dared question him, and only the most trustworthy attendants were allowed anywhere near his room to be able to smell the difference. 
On the plus side, Nerevar had many things he used to his advantage; in all honesty, the fact people thought Nerevar was a beta wasn’t unfounded. Even when an alpha went into a rut, he was mostly unbothered by it. A bit of discomfort, not to mention he needed a long bath afterwards to get the smell off him, but unlike some omegas where the scent of an alpha in rut had them going into heat right away, Nerevar seemed mostly unaffected and could force the instinct down. And, through careful control of his mental state, he could usually calm most alphas down without them being the wiser about Nerevar’s secondary sex and wanting to take him for themselves. His seeming immunity from an alpha in rut was often the subject of multiple jokes by Almalexia, as the two of them would mostly sit around, having a few drinks in the quiet of her room. Well, that was until she took Vivec as her mate, then most of her ruts were spent with the warrior-poet instead. 
Hence why, when his meeting with Voryn had been canceled last minute after he already made his way to Kogoruhn, he simply strolled to Voryn’s room, humming casually with a couple books and food for the other. 
Much like Nerevar, Voryn was also an… Interesting example of an alpha. Voryn was usually pegged more so as a beta based on his behavior, until you got a whiff of pheromones when you pissed him off. He wasn’t as outwardly aggressive and territorial as far as most people were concerned, but Nerevar knew him well. He disguised it as dedication and love for his house, or loyalty to those close to him, but he was indeed territorial. And instead of outward aggression, picking fights and throwing fists, he preferred to temper his aggression and instead attack them when they least expected it. He may look like he forgives and forgets, but in truth he was a viper laying in wait to strike. 
Nerevar knocked, careful not to drop the few books tucked under his arm, hearing the low growl that followed. 
“Out.” Voryn hissed, and Nerevar bit back a laugh.
“It’s me,” Nerevar clarified. “I brought you some books and some food. Servants said you haven’t eaten since yesterday.” Voryn, unlike his typically cool demeanor, was vicious and snippy in a rut. Since Nerevar grew up alongside him, he knew it very well, getting chased away from Voryn’s door every time. Well, that and the servants and other members of House Dagoth would shoo him away, warning him not to go near. It was customary to keep young alphas and omegas apart during heats and ruts respectively, for good reason. No one wanted any injured teenagers or anyone carrying children way too young. But Nerevar could still see it in the aftermath—scratch marks and bruises on Gilvoth after he came to force his younger brother to eat, broken furniture, a smashed window at one point—luckily he calmed down from physical violence as he got older. If he hadn’t, he doubted Kogoruhn would still be standing with all the magic the lord knew. 
“All the more reason to tell you to leave.” Voryn huffed. 
“You know ruts don’t bother me.” Nerevar snarked. “Hurry up and open the door before I drop your food.” 
After some groaning and growling, eventually Voryn did open the door, to which Nerevar quickly darted inside before he could take the tray and shove him out. 
“You are an idiot.” Voryn groaned as Nerevar set the tray of food on the desk, before tossing the books onto Voryn’s bed. “But that’s nothing new anymore.” 
“I told you, ruts don’t bother me.” Nerevar chuckled, trying to ignore the heavy feeling in the air as always. At the very least, Voryn’s scent wasn’t offensive; some alphas made him feel disgusting, if not a little nauseous. Voryn’s was much more familiar and a lot more welcomed, given he was used to it in much smaller quantities over the years. In fact, it was kind of nice; warm, a bit spicy, and nostalgic. 
“I can’t help but fear you’re just playing with fire when you say things like that.” Voryn sighed, before plopping himself on the bed. He was dressed very loosely, no doubt feeling hot and antsy. Nerevar, unbothered, also sat beside him with a grin on his face. 
“Come on, I’m not being that reckless.” 
“You’re tempting fate, that’s what you’re doing.” Voryn huffed. “But you’ve always been like that, haven’t you? Always pushing your luck to its limits until it blows up in your face.” 
“It hasn’t blown up in my face yet,” Nerevar asserted proudly. “Unlike several of Sil’s little inventions.” Voryn rolled his eyes at that.
“Because you’re constantly poking and prodding at them even when he specifically told you not to, that’s why.” Nerevar, seeing as Voryn was making a good point, instead side-stepped it entirely.
“Come on, you know you get lonely during a rut,” Nerevar instead circled the conversation back around. “Bored, stir crazy, antsy…”
“That’s the nature of a rut so I don’t rip someone to pieces.” Voryn huffed. “I’m not supposed to be relaxing and having fun but defending my territory and looking for a mate as far as my instincts are concerned.” 
“Mm…” Nerevar hummed. “I heard mate does make them easier. At least, as far as Ayem told me.” Nerevar hadn’t minded his wife taking a mate that wasn’t him; in terms of sexual compatibility, Nerevar didn’t find her very appealing. Not that she was ugly or anything--far from it! She was very beautiful, tall, strong… All things an omega should be dying to have in a mate. But there was something about her scent that put him off from ever wanting to mate. Just as well, she didn’t find his scent all that appealing either, and most political marriages didn’t end in mating even in the case of alpha and omega couples. 
“And I am in no mood to tear apart Vvardenfell looking for one.” Voryn scoffed, before laying down on his side. Despite doing so, however, he didn’t look comfortable in the slightest. All of his muscles were tense as he laid there, stiff as a corpse. “I have things to be doing, research to do, meetings to be had--”
“Shh…” Nerevar hushed him, scooting closer to rub his back. At the touch Voryn snarled, before slowly he began relaxing, bit by bit. “There…” Nerevar smiled fondly. “You’ll have time for all of that when this is over. It’s only a couple of days right?” Nerevar asked, before working at a knot on Voryn’s shoulder. “Roll over and I’ll rub your back. You’re way too tense.”
Despite all his huffing and snarling, Voryn did roll over, face planted in a pillow, allowing Nerevar climb on top of him to massage him. For most alphas having an omega crawling on top of them in the middle of a rut like this was no doubt humiliating, but Voryn had in fact relaxed gradually. The scent in the air turned from one of hostility and warning to more of a gentle warmth as Nerevar continued to work knot after knot out of his back. 
“What research are you working on now?” Nerevar asked, hoping some light conversation would help relax him further. 
“Mm…” Voryn groaned softly, fingers clenching and unclenching the blankets under him. “Dwemeri explosive powder…”
“Making it?” Nerevar asked, raising a brow. 
“No,” Voryn clarified. “Dwemer machinery is required to actually… Make it.” He hummed softly as Nerevar rubbed at his lower back, working the especially tense muscles nice and slow. “Machinery far too large and complicated to fit into Kogoruhn.”
“What about it then?”
“Dwarven oil has a number of alchemical properties…” Voryn continued. “I was hoping to test if their explosive powder had any as well.” 
“Without blowing up half of your stronghold, I hope?” At that, Voryn snorted, before rolling over and forcing Nerevar off him now that he was much more relaxed. With a grin, Voryn tugged Nerevar down to be laying beside him.
“Unlike you, I don’t have a track record for blowing things up unintentionally.” 
“You’re back on that again?” Nerevar groaned, offended but still laughing. 
“I’m not the one who brought it up the first time.” Voryn smirked. “Though tell me, how many times has Dumac saved you from nearly stepping on a landmine again?” 
“You’re being an asshole right now, you know that?” Nerevar shot him a playful glare. 
“Well you’re an asshole all the time and it’s never stopped you.” 
And just like that, the two were at it. Was wrestling an alpha in rut a good idea? Not in the slightest. However, the two used to playfully wrestle all the time as children and even teenagers, so it was… Oddly nice to do so again as adults. Typically Nerevar would win due to raw strength alone--and he could right now, of course--but he knew it was probably a terrible idea to piss an alpha off like that in the middle of a rut. So instead, Nerevar just put up a gentle fight, knocking several of the pillows and blankets off the plush bed, along with the books Nerevar brought earlier, all the while laughing. Then, once he felt Voryn was starting to get a bit too aggressive and his movements too hurried, he let the other pin him to the bed. 
“Gods…” Nerevar laughed, breathlessly. “How long has it been since we wrestled like this?”
“Decades.” Voryn replied, equally as breathless. “Mm… But oddly nice to get the energy out.” 
“I told you.” Nerevar grinned. “Nice to move around, get your mind off things… Sitting there stewing in it only makes it worse.” 
“Don’t tell me you go around wrestling people in heat.” Nerevar nearly choked in laughter at that. 
“No!” He had to roll over onto his side, holding his stomach from giggling. “Gods, fuck no! Azura’s mercy, I’m not that insane!” Another few chuckles followed as he tried to compose himself. “I can barely stand anyone touching me once it settles in. Everything feels so… Sharp and uncomfortable.” 
“Does it?” Voryn raised an eyebrow, but climbed off Nerevar to flop down beside him. “That sounds… Unusual.”
Nerevar shrugged. “It’s always been like that.” He admitted as though it were nothing. “You wouldn’t it get it being an alpha, I guess.” 
“Nerevar, I may not be an omega but that doesn’t mean I’m uneducated.” Voryn was oddly stern now, concerned. “Just like how you aren’t an alpha but understand how a rut works.” 
“Look, what do you want me to say?” Nerevar asked. “No healer has ever told me anything is wrong with me. It just seemed the more time that went on, the more… Painful they got?” Nerevar groaned. “Well, not really painful, I’ve found a way around it for the most part--”
“So you’re coping with it like a poorly healed injury.” 
“No!” Nerevar asserted. “It’s not an injury but a normal thing.”
“A normal process that isn’t acting as normal.” 
“Look,” Nerevar rolled his eyes, “You can bother the healers back at the palace about it if you’re so concerned. But I’ve adjusted just fine to my heats. I lay in bed, have all my food ready, stacks of books and what have you, and I deal with it.” Nerevar gave him a playful kick. “Unlike someone who went a whole day without eating.” 
Voryn rolled his eyes, getting up from the bed. “Fine fine, I’ll eat lord Nerevar.” Voryn replied, sarcastically. He then went over to his desk, finally eating the meal Nerevar brought him. 
While he ate, they still chatted and talked, Nerevar laying casually on his bed. It hadn’t been the first time he’d done it, and Nerevar expected it wouldn’t be the last with their close friendship. Even as councilman and king, Nerevar saw them as close friends above all else. The closest friend he had, honestly. 
Yet, as he laid there he found himself feeling… Uncomfortable. The air wasn’t stifling after Voryn calmed down, but Nerevar’s clothes felt… Itchy. Not to mention he was starting to feel feverish. Maybe that wrestling wasn’t a good idea if he was coming down with something, but he didn’t want to leave yet--he was mid conversation, after all, and it seemed like Voryn was still relaxing more and more. But, it wasn’t long until Nerevar was tossing and turning on the bed, trying to feel comfortable. Despite being fully dressed he got that same paranoid feeling he had being out in the open on the battlefield: antsy and exposed. 
“Are you alright?” Voryn had finished by now, coming to the bed to look at him.
“Yeah just--” Nerevar sighed. “Uncomfortable.” Then, realizing how that might be interpreted, tried to cover for it. “Not that your bed is uncomfortable, I just feel… Off, all of a sudden.” 
“How so?”
“My clothes feel itchy--” Nerevar was already scratching at his arms, writhing slightly to try and itch at his back. “It’s not flees, I just bathed… Not to mention it’s not like, bug bite itchy but like my clothes are way too rough…” 
“Stress?” Voryn asked, looking at his arms to ensure he didn’t have a rash. “I could always look at your clothes to be sure.” 
“Not a bad idea.” Nerevar began pulling his shirt up over his head to hand to Voryn who combed it over. Sure enough, the clean cloth had no parasites or bugs crawling around in it, but already Nerevar felt relieved. He kicked off his trousers while he was at it, left only in his undergarments and much more comfortable. 
“Well the fabric is particularly rough.” Voryn remarked. “Thick material, more so used for keeping warm and dry rather than relaxing. Rolling around wrestling in it probably irritated your skin.” Nerevar snorted at that, especially as Voryn tossed one of his own silk robes on top of him. He used to have no problem wrestling in the ash and dust, but now slightly rough fabric was what was going to do him in? Although… The silk robe was a lot more comfortable, the soft fabric almost soothing his skin as he curled up with it on and tied shut, breathing deeply. Voryn’s sheets were also nice and soft… 
“You are also feeling warm though…” Voryn brought the back of his hand to Nerevar’s forehead. “Not to mention I actually beat you at wrestling…” He looked concerned, “You weren’t mucking around the bitter coast again were you? Swamp fever has been on the rise there, and I know how much you love mudcrab hunting more than your own good--” Nerevar rolled his eyes.
“I came straight here from the propylon chamber, Voryn.” He did wear weather appropriate clothes given it was the cold and rainy season in northern VVardenfell, but that was just a precaution. “I wasn’t running around the bitter coast catching mudcrabs, I can assure you.” 
“Here,” Voryn stood up now, pulling the pillows and blankets back on the bed to make Nerevar more comfortable. “Why don’t you just lay down for a few minutes and see if it goes down. If not, I have a cure disease potion around here somewhere…” He then got up after piling them all back on, rummaging through his shelves stocked with an astounding amount of alchemical books, ingredient chests, and potion bottles. ‘Controlled chaos’ as Voryn would say, though Nerevar could never make sense of it. But right now he was more than content to just lay there in the pile of pillows and blankets, breathing in nice and deep as his body started to go from uncomfortably hot to warm and fuzzy. 
“I found it,” Voryn kneeled beside him, beckoning Nerevar to sit up properly. He groaned in annoyance; he just got fucking comfortable, now Voryn wanted him to sit up? But one look at Voryn’s eyes told Nerevar it was just for his own good, so reluctantly and without much fuss he sat up slightly, letting Voryn tilt his head and press the potion bottle to his lips. It briefly occurred to him he could drink it himself but… Well, Voryn was just being a loyal retainer and friend right? Ever loyal, doting Voryn.. Nerevar found that trait of his kind of endearing. 
“Normally when I have to give you medicine you make such a fuss,” Voryn smiled softly, “You’re being a good boy right now, I see.” At the ‘good boy’ comment Nerevar’s breath hitched slightly as he sunk back onto the bed to lay on his side, Voryn piling more of the blankets and pillows around him so he was comfortable. Then, a hand threaded into his hair, rubbing at his scalp just like Nerevar liked, making him positively melt, mewling and moaning softly in pure delight. 
“That’s it…” Voryn purred, “Such a good boy, aren’t you…?” Voryn then laid down behind him, nuzzling against him, his hands brushing across Nerevar’s chest and stomach in soft strokes… 
Ah, Voryn was scenting him, something that wasn’t unwelcomed in the slightest. It was nice; being wrapped up in that warm, musky scent was only making him feel better. People would be able to smell Voryn on him after all, all over his body from his clothes to his hair and skin… Then again, he felt like he never wanted to leave the comfort of Voryn’s bed right now. He was content to just lay there being tended to, Voryn nuzzling him, feeding him, guarding him… 
“Oh Neht,” Voryn buried his face in Nerevar’s neck, breathing in his scent directly, before his tongue swiped at a scent gland. That caught Nerevar’s attention, making him moan louder, squirming in Voryn’s arms. 
“Hey--” Nerevar protested weakly. His mind felt fuzzy, but he knew that was crossing a line at least. “Watch it.” 
“You smell divine…” Voryn purred. “Nice and sweet…” He resumed the licking, leaving Nerevar whining softly, his hips moving in small circles until Voryn pressed his hips firmly against Nerevar’s ass, holding him still with a growl. His cunt throbbed at that, suddenly overcome with the realization he was empty right now, so fucking empty--he needed something in him. Right now. Fingers, a toy, a cock, just something filling him up--
Then, Voryn was pulling back suddenly, jerking his hands away as though he was burned. Nerevar looked up at him confused and dazed, Voryn’s face flushed red. 
“You’re in heat.” Voryn murmured, suddenly realizing what was going on. Nerevar, however, took a few moments to process his words, before anxiety bubbled up inside him.
“No I’m not--” He wasn’t the type to go into heat smelling an alpha in rut. He had never done so before, and he wasn’t due for his heat for a few months anyways. Besides, when he was in heat he was nesting and--
Nerevar glanced at the pillows and blankets Voryn had put around him, realizing when he had done so Nerevar felt much more secure and comfortable. He’d been antsy before, paranoid and feeling exposed until the soft, plush walls were around him. He also felt more sensitive to his clothes, feeling warm and aroused-- 
“I-I hate people touching me in heat,” Nerevar tried to explain quickly, sitting up and panicked. “I can’t be…” That was right, he couldn’t be. He hated being touched during his heat, growling and hissing as the touch was physically painful. But Voryn touching him hadn’t hurt at all, it felt…
Nerevar’s hands were trembling as he got up quickly, tugging the robe shut firmly and making sure the tie was secure, before he took off running for the propylon chamber. He wasn’t thinking clearly, he just knew he needed to not be there anymore. Something was wrong with him after all; very, very wrong with him. He paid no mind to Voryn calling after him, even as his anxiety spiked hearing the concern and anger in his voice; he just kept running through the halls, sprinting past servants and attendants until he made it to the chamber, giving quick orders to send him to Mournhold before he was teleported away. 
At the palace, Nerevar didn’t stop to catch his breath either. The air felt cold and stifling as he continued running, spriting like a mad man until he made it to his room where he swiftly locked the door. He drew the curtains, blocking out the light until it was dark, his anxiety still not ceasing. He tripped on a chair in his scramble, swearing up a storm as he kicked and snarled, breaking a leg off the chair. He then grabbed it as he stood, throwing it to the wall resulting in the wood splintering against the heavy stone and knocking several tapestries down. Now in darkness he retreated to his bed, trying to curl up to find comfort.
His bed felt wrong. Wrong, disgusting, cold, uncomfortable… Even as he moved the blankets and pillows he just felt worse. None of them were as comfortable as Voryn’s bed, covered in his scent…
Nerevar tugged the robe off, burying his face in it, whining softly. The scent, despite being musky and strong, was so comforting. He never used to find an alpha’s scent so soothing before, why now? Even when he was in heat he’d growl if any alpha even so much as came near his room, so why this? Why now?!
A few servants knocked on the door, calling for him alarmed. Then a few healers. He didn’t respond to any of them, laying there in silence, too ashamed to even tell them to leave. It felt like his skin was crawling, and he simultaneously felt both hyper-aggressive and like he had no strength in him. Then it was Almalexia, knocking.
“Nerevar?!” He growled weakly; he didn’t want anyone to see him, let alone a different alpha--no, he needed to get rid of that mindset. Voryn wasn’t special, at least, not as an alpha. Voryn was his closest friend yet, but if he didn’t want to be seen by anyone, that meant anyone. Especially not Voryn, an alpha in rut, when he was obviously in heat. 
“Are you injured?” She asked. “What happened in Kogoruhn--” A few more people spoke quietly to her, their voices too hushed for him to hear. In the back of his mind, he knew it was only logical she’d ask; he did come sprinting through the palace in one of Voryn’s robes, running like a pack of nix-hounds were trying to kill him. What was supposed to be a political meeting ending in such a sight would be a great cause of concern--one Nerevar should smooth over before anyone marched to Kogoruhn accusing Voryn of treason. But he didn’t have the energy to do so; all he wanted to do was curl up and forget the rest of the world entirely. 
“Nerevar,” It was Vivec now, knocking at his door, voice level and a bit softer than how he usually spoke, “The healers are here, will you let them in?”
“I don’t need to see a healer.” He growled, enraged. It was stupid; Nerevar knew something was wrong with his body, but the idea of being seen by a bunch of strangers right now poking and prodding at him felt like a fate worse than death.
“Voryn is here.” A sensation ran straight through Nerevar he didn’t have a proper name for. Anticipation? Anxiety? Want? It was impossible to place, but it made him feel restless. “Would you prefer to see him?”
“No!” Nerevar suddenly snapped, his voice much louder than it had to be. He was terrified of what would happen if he saw Voryn again right now. Part of him wanted to, deep down; he wasn’t this restless and anxious simply laying in Voryn’s bed. In fact he felt nice--warm and fuzzy and safe. But he didn’t know what was going on, or what would happen if he followed that thread of desire to the end.
“Did Voryn hurt you?” Vivec asked, trying to get answers. 
“He didn’t hurt me--” Nerevar snapped at that as well. Voryn would never hurt Nerevar. He knew that much. His whole body was screaming, suddenly offended at even the idea. Voryn had been trying so hard to take care of Nerevar, made sure he was comfortable, fed him medicine and even made a nest for him… A wave of heat washed over him quickly at the memory, followed by a spike in anxiety. “I just--I don’t know what’s going on!” 
A few moments of silence followed, before Vivec sighed. “Let me come in.” That seemed less risky than healers he hardly knew or an alpha. Nerevar’s brain, as was so common while in heat, was in survival mode after all, constantly looking out for any potential threat. But Vivec was another omega, and a bonded one at that. Someone close to him and trusted.
After Nerevar gave a quiet answer, Vivec unlocked the door with a spell, slipping inside and then shutting and locking the door behind him. He approached the bed slowly, not sitting on it or touching him. 
“Tell me what happened and I’ll tell the others.” His voice was quiet, knowing just how jumpy and aggressive an omega could get in this state.
“I…” Nerevar swallowed. He didn’t want to recount it, embarrassed now that his luck had in fact run out just like Voryn said it might. “Ruts don’t usually trigger heat in me.” Nerevar said, his voice wavering.
“I’m aware.” 
“But it was…” Nerevar gave a shaky sigh. “I don’t… Know what happened. My body just started… Going into heat all of a sudden while I was laying on his bed, without me even realizing it.” Normally he could tell the warning signs of an impending heat: irritability, hunger, defensiveness, physical discomfort, even a sensitivity to light. “I also hate being touched when I’m in heat, it fucking hurts,” He hissed softly, remembering the warm, welcomed touch of Voryn’s hands on him as the other scented him. His skin burned despite no one touching him at the moment, and he wanted the relief of Voryn once again. Vivec still raised an eyebrow at that. “It always does but then I… It didn’t hurt when he was touching me. It felt… Nice. Relaxing.” Vivec hummed contemplatively at that. 
“When he realized I was… Going into heat he pulled away. And I realized it too and panicked and ran back here.” He did regret making a scene but he didn’t know what else he was supposed to do. 
“I’ll speak with the healers.” The most they’d be able to do was a suppressant, but at this point Nerevar would take it. He wanted this feeling to stop. Desperately. 
“Nerevar?!” He heard Voryn’s voice outside the door. “Nerevar, are you alright?” The concern in his voice had Nerevar’s heart racing, but he was still anxious about what would happen if he saw Voryn again. The sensation he was losing control was terrifying, after all. 
“I think it would be best you see him, Neht.” Vivec said simply, moving towards the door. “He’s going to tear the palace apart trying to get to you.” Nerevar’s anxiety only grew at that; what if Voryn got hurt? What if people assumed the worst? Not to mention it was only making the other, strange feelings inside him grow all the more strong at the notion Voryn desperately needed him.
“L…” He hesitated, before he tugged the robe out from under him and back onto his body to make himself decent. “Let him in.” 
As soon as the door was opened, Voryn shoved his way past the guards and Vivec into the room, Vivec retreating outside once more to hush the angered guards, attendants, and healers who wanted to drag him back out. 
“Neht,” Voryn’s voice went hushed as he quickly made his way to the bed, climbing on without a care. Nerevar had half a mind to snap at him, before Voryn was stroking at his skin and scenting him again. He felt himself melting already from the familiar scent filling the room, along with the soothing touch on his skin. “Thank gods you’re alright.” The room still felt wrong, but he felt a hell of a lot better being tended to like this, the burning under his skin slowly fading. 
“Voryn…” He murmured, closing his eyes. He tried to will himself to feel more comfortable; he was in his room, the same place he always was for all of his heats. Maybe it was because there were people outside his door? It was possible; he hated being bothered when he was in heat. 
Then the door opened after a few, pleasant moments, Voryn growling with pure rage. The healer who entered was an older beta woman, but even she shuddered. 
“I mean his majesty no harm.” It was a healer he saw many times in the past. She then glanced at Nerevar in the dim lighting. “I know what happened, Lord Nerevar.” 
Nerevar sat up at that, eager for answers, but Voryn kept an arm wrapped around his waist securely. 
“... In all honesty,” The healer began, sounding exacerbated, “I have never seen a case like this in all my years. But there is only one answer I can come to based on everything else.”
“Go on.” Nerevar tried to keep his voice level rather than annoyed. Azura knows how terrified most people got when he was angry. 
The healer pinched the bridge of her nose. 
“How familiar are you with fated mates?” At her question, Nerevar froze, stunned, before he gave a loud bark of laughter. The healer, however, did not laugh or smile back, and instead only looked more resolute. 
“... Be serious with me.” 
“I am being serious, Lord Nerevar.” 
“Are you--are you seriously trying to say Voryn is my--”
“I understand how strange it sounds at first.” The healer cut him off. “Typically when someone meets their fated mate they determine it quickly. It only takes a few heat or rut cycles before the draw is undeniable.” She sighed once again. “I can only assume because you knew Lord Dagoth before either of you presented, the draw was less noticeable.” 
It kind of made sense, to a degree. When people wrote about fated mates it was usually that they had a scent that was undeniable. Even passing by them on the street, you couldn’t get the scent out of your head for days on end, trying to find it again and again. Even those who tried to deny it couldn’t refuse the pull forever; heats and ruts were unbearable, the longing overwhelming the pair. No one had ever recorded an account of a fated pair who knew each other prior to presenting though; fated mates were absurdly rare, after all. They were more common in fiction than real life, and only the most hopeless of romantics ever went out actually looking for one. Most people just found a mate they liked rather than chase after some destined person, and why fated mates even existed was a mystery. Did everyone have one but distance kept them from finding one? That didn’t seem likely; the most common belief was that some people were born with them--not many members of the population, anyways--and even fewer actually found their ‘other half’. Someone meeting a fated mate before presenting, when you were children not off exploring the wider world yet, was even more unlikely. 
Dumac told him the dwemer scholars believed it had something to do with ‘reproductive compatibility’. Not that it was a mystical, god given connection like some believed, but rather those with a fated partner were less compatible with most of the population, so when they did find someone they could produce children with easily, the desire to mate was enhanced strongly. Nerevar didn’t know if he liked that explanation either though. He found the ideas the gods made destined partners to love each other forever as too romantic of an idea for reality yes, but presuming there must be something wrong with them instead wasn’t much better. 
It didn’t seem likely that he and Voryn could just ignore the draw for decades though, right? Surely that wouldn’t be possible. The draw was supposed to be strong, impossible to deny past a certain point.
Sure, when he was younger and Voryn was in a rut he always came by to check on him before he was shooed away, but that was just boredom. And when he was in heat Voryn would pass him notes under the door from time to time that he’d bury in the nests he made, but that was just because being in heat made him feel sensitive and sappy. Nothing more. And shouldn’t there be something more if they were a fated pair?
“Your other symptoms make me more certain of it.” The healer continued, pulling him from his thoughts.
“How so?” Nerevar raised an eyebrow. 
“It isn’t healthy for an unmated omega to be around an alpha in rut.” She replied, a fact that always made Nerevar roll his eyes. “It causes excess stress, even if it doesn’t trigger a heat. Unless you are drawn to the alpha in question as a potential partner, usually a rut is off putting, distressing, or nauseating for an unmated omega.”
“They’ve never bothered me to that extent.” Nerevar snarked.
“Precisely.” She locked eyes with him. “You handle it more akin to an omega who’s already been mated, despite not having the scent of one.” Nerevar tensed at that. He hadn’t thought of it like that in the slightest; why would he? He wasn’t mated. Anyone could smell on him that he wasn’t. “Those who have met a fated partner experience mated behaviors before the bond is even set. Rejecting other suitors, unbothered by others in a heat or rut,” She sighed. “Lord Vivec even explained you were giving off the same scent as a bonded omega whose mate was absent.” Nerevar’s cheeks flushed at that. 
“That’s--” Nerevar tensed slightly, “I wouldn’t go that far.” Surely Nerevar wasn’t. He wasn’t fucking bonded, why would he be throwing out the same scent as an omega who went into heat, begging for their mate to come tend to them? 
“You were.” She asserted, though she did have some sympathy in her gaze at least. “Unfortunately, the best I can do is, if you truly don’t want the bond, I can give you suppressants. They won’t actively stop it right now given you already went into heat, but they should calm some of the worst side effects for a time.” Nerevar already knew what she was going to say next though. “But your next one will be much the same. The side effects will continue to worsen.” Short of running away to the other side of the continent and burning anything he owned that Voryn had ever so much as touched, he would be able to smell Voryn faintly, after all. In the palace, on his belongings, anywhere Voryn had been might trigger the worst of the symptoms all over again now that he had a heat triggered by his rut no doubt. 
“At the very least, Lord Dagoth is in control of his emotions.” Voryn’s brow twitched at that, his arms tightening. “You can spend ruts and heats together without actually mating, until you come to a decision on how to proceed. It should alleviate both of your struggles.” 
Shit, Nerevar hadn’t even considered what Voryn must be going through. Was his irritation and lack of eating because he subconsciously knew Nerevar was supposed to be his mate but wasn’t there by his side? When he was younger was that out of character, violent rage because he knew, right there in the stronghold, his mate was being kept from him? No doubt the next rut Voryn would be uncontrollable; before he could hold back because he wasn’t consciously aware of what he wanted, but now that he knew it was Nerevar… 
Nerevar felt himself getting all the more wet at the prospect of Voryn tearing his way across the country for him, earning a low growl from Voryn and the healer clearing her throat. 
“I’ll leave the two of you to discuss it.” She said, now turning to leave. Nerevar felt his cheeks flush in a rush of embarrassment; no doubt because he was in heat the arousal led to a surge of pheromones in the air all but begging for Voryn to fuck him. “We will be waiting outside for your answer.” 
As soon as the door shut, Voryn was fussing over him again, marking him with his scent by nuzzling into his hair and against his cheek. But quickly the tension was melting off of Voryn’s body as he began apologizing. 
“I’m so sorry, Neht.” 
“This isn’t your fault.” Nerevar huffed. “I’m the idiot who deliberately stuck around after you told me not to.” 
“You didn’t know either.” Voryn sighed. “I could have made you leave but I… I felt more comfortable with you there.” If it was anything like what Nerevar was going through he could understand it. “Besides… If what the healer said is true then this was bound to happen.” That was also true; it was a miracle it hadn’t happened until now. If it wasn’t Nerevar insisting on spending time with Voryn during a rut, it could just as easily be Voryn stumbling upon him in heat, or anything else really. 
“Do you want to take the suppressants?” Voryn asked, and Nerevar sighed, shaking his head.
“No,” He rubbed his eyes, feeling sluggishness settle into his body. “It’ll help only temporarily, and make it worse next time around.” 
“But they might help you think clearer.” Voryn countered. “I don’t want you making any decisions with a clouded head.” 
“I’m not completely out of it, Voryn. A bit anxious, yes, but it’s not like I’m drunk.” Nerevar hated those kinds of assumptions; the stereotype that omegas were just needy, pathetic little things that couldn’t think for themselves once they were in heat was the most infuriating one. 
At his anger though, Voryn hushed him, nuzzling into his neck apologetically and licking a scent gland. Nerevar huffed at first, still rigid, until the affection soothed him, now groaning softly in delight instead as he head fell to the side to give Voryn more room. 
“Then,” Voryn began, “Would you prefer to stay here?” His hand rubbed soothing circles on Nerevar’s lower stomach. “Or do you want to return to my room?”
“Mm…” Nerevar knew it would probably be easier if he stayed here; he had healers and attendants he was used to, not to mention he knew the layout of his room well and kept it stocked with toys, erotica, anything he needed to help him get off. Even if the two of them only went so far as masturbating together rather than mating, those would be helpful. 
But the room didn’t feel entirely comfortable, even with Voryn there. Damn hormones were likely acting up on that front, but no use arguing with something illogical. 
“Your room is probably better.” He admitted, pulling himself out of Voryn’s arms to start packing. “Let me just get a few things and we can head back. Hopefully without the whole damn palace gossiping about it…”
“It’ll be alright.” Voryn reassured him, rubbing his back gently. “The palace was mostly quiet today.” He then coughed awkwardly, “Before I… Came running through after you.” Nerevar snorted at that. “After how thoroughly I scented you though I doubt most will be able to tell what’s going on.”
“Hopefully.” Nerevar wasn’t keeping it a secret he was an omega exactly, but he didn’t want to go shouting it to the world either. It was better to keep people guessing rather than anyone giving him shit for it unnecessarily. He still grabbed his travel pack, carelessly shoving some comfortable clothes and sleeping robes in, along with a few changes of underwear, and a favorite pillow of his. He also managed to cram in a few toys and a steamy novel he enjoyed, able to smell the spike of Voryn’s arousal at the sight from how strong his pheromones were. 
Another trip through the propylon chamber later--this time less hurried and better dressed, and they were once again walking back to Voryn’s private chambers. On the way there Voryn ordered attendants as they went, requesting a large dinner to be brought to his room that evening for Nerevar too, as well that Nerevar would be staying in Kogoruhn for several days. It didn’t take a genius to figure out Nerevar was going to be spending Voryn’s rut with him, the servants all scrambling at the knowledge. 
Just before they reached the room another healer appeared, handing Voryn several vials of potions, before giving a respectful bow and leaving. Voryn’s cheeks were more red at that, but he took them regardless, letting Nerevar enter the room. 
It was mostly as he left it, albeit with a few blankets and pillows knocked off from his speedy exit and a few tapestries fallen off the wall from a door slamming. A wardrobe was left open, probably from Voryn’s scramble to make himself semi-decent before chasing after Nerevar. 
He tossed his bag to the side of the bed, already feeling relieved to be back. Voryn locked the door behind them, moving to draw the curtains shut as Nerevar began fussing over the pillows and blankets, making sure the bed would be comfortable for him. With more than enough room for Voryn this time, something that had excitement bubbling away in his chest. 
“What are the potions for?” Nerevar asked as he added his own pillow to the bed, still arranging it. It was annoying to do it in heat--normally he got started a few days prior, but whatever. 
“... Birth control.” Voryn admitted, and Nerevar’s hands stopped briefly. 
He knew that was only logical. Even if they ended up going further, actually having sex or mating entirely, most didn’t want to have kids the first time. It took a while to adjust to a mate, see if you wanted to keep the bond… Then again, it was said fated mates couldn’t remove the bond once they did mate.
Still, hearing ‘birth control’ made it seem that much more… Real. They were going to spending Voryn’s rut and Nerevar’s heat together. Very easily one thing could lead to another, and he could… Actually have sex with Voryn. 
“... Better to be prepared than not.” Nerevar finally replied, resuming his work, before flopping into the nest he made. As soon as he was situated, Voryn stripped out of the additional robe he threw on top of his night clothes for decency, climbing in to lay beside Nerevar. 
“Did you eat properly?” He asked, fretting over him. Nerevar snorted. 
“Says the one who forgot to eat.” Nerevar teased. 
“I was…” Voryn sighed. “Too anxious to eat. I get wound up during a rut, and the idea of eating was nauseating.” He closed his eyes. “Until you showed up.” 
“Well I’m glad I made it easier for you.” Nerevar smiled. “And for your information, yes. I did in fact eat a large breakfast and lunch, as always.” He always had a big appetite after all, though he was especially ravenous during heats. “Though I wont say no to a big mudcrab feast for dinner~” Voryn laughed loudly at that, head thrown back and canines glinting. Nerevar swallowed roughly at the sight, subconsciously rubbing his own neck. 
“I’m glad you’re well fed then.” Voryn was still smiling warmly. “Hopefully you won’t eat me out of house and home.”
“Get a bigger house then if I do.” Nerevar teased back. 
“I certainly will have to, won’t I?” Voryn was smirking now, rolling on top of Nerevar. “I have to keep my mate well taken care of…” Voryn went back to his neck, kissing and licking now, earning several long, breathy moans from Nerevar. 
Gods, did Nerevar know what Vivec meant when he said heats were so much easier like this. Nerevar thought obviously a mate or even just a potential one you spent a heat with would make it a bit more bearable. But this… He didn’t feel nearly as irritable as he usually was, now feeling quite secure, not to mention his arousal wasn’t frustrating it just…
“Mmm…” Voryn groaned softly, grinding his hips against Nerevar’s. “Such a sweet scent when you’re aroused…” Voryn nipped at his ear next, making Nerevar arch up and keen. 
“Ah,” Nerevar gasped, grinding his hips in return, “Is it?” He didn’t have many people telling him he smelled sweet; usually he was compared to things that were fresh and bright, like citrus or herbs.
“Delightfully sweet.” Voryn purred. “Perfectly so, just to my taste…” Voryn then pulled up from his neck, taking his chin in hand. 
Nerevar’s heartbeat accelerated from the look in Voryn’s eyes. In every raunchy novel he read, alphas were described as ravenously hungry when they stared down omegas, like a predator having just caught its prey. But here Nerevar didn’t feel like prey; Voryn’s eyes were hungry, yes, but more so they were warm, affectionate and…
Loving. Devoted. Like he would do anything and everything for Nerevar’s sake. 
Nerevar’s eyes fell half shut as he found himself leaning up, Voryn meeting him halfway to connect their lips in a soft, gentle kiss. 
It was entirely out of order; normally you kissed and courted someone before you invited them to spend a rut or heat with you, contrary to many smutty novels and ballads where the couple spontaneously fell into bed together during one. By Azura, the two already knew each other for so many years too, and they were just barely kissing… 
Gods, no wonder people described it like fate. It felt insane that they hadn’t kissed before now. That it took so long for them to get here, sprawled out in bed together. The scent from Voryn was intoxicating as the kisses warmed up from slow and soft to passionate ones that made Nerevar feel entirely breathless. When Nerevar swiped his tongue into Voryn’s mouth, flicking briefly against his fangs, Nerevar shuddered, slipping one hand down between his thighs to rub back and forth against his dick. 
“So eager…” Voryn moaned against his lips, his own hand joining Nerevar’s. Even through the fabric the touch was electric, Nerevar’s body trembling slightly. “Did you want a toy inside you then?” Voryn asked, his voice low and deep, the sound going straight to Nerevar’s cunt. 
“Yeah…” Nerevar moaned softly. “A toy, your fingers…” Voryn was already undressing him, throwing the robe open and sliding his underwear off, “Anything…” 
“My cock?” Voryn offered with a smirk, only joking. Still though, Nerevar groaned at the thought; fuck yes did he want Voryn’s cock in him, fucking him to completion and then knotting him. He was already dripping wet at just the idea, after all. But he also knew they should take things slower.
“T-toy for now…” Nerevar groaned through grit teeth, before hissing as Voryn played with his dick while fishing around in the bag beside the bed. 
“Which one?” Voryn asked, still not letting up his teasing in the slightest. It felt so damn good, but Nerevar felt too empty! He threw an arm over his eyes, panting.
“Th-the…” Using his words was more difficult than he thought. “The one with the… Big knot~” A moment later, Voryn pulled it out, sliding the tip against Nerevar’s entrance. “Hah~!” 
“Is this one your favorite?” Voryn asked, a devilish smirk still on his face. Nerevar didn’t even have to look, he could feel the pleased look on his face as he started to tease it in. 
“Mm, when I’m in heat, yeah~” He could have lied, but what was the fucking point? Voryn was already fucking him with the damn thing, why play coy? Voryn slid it in a few inches, groaning softly as he watched it vanish into Nerevar’s body, before thrusting it in and out. It was a different rhythm than Nerevar used, but like everything else today it wasn’t unwelcomed. 
“Oh I’ll bet…” Voryn purred. “When you’re in heat you love taking a nice,” He gave a sharper thrust, letting Nerevar take it all up to just before the knot, but not quite pushing it in, “Big knot in your greedy little cunt, don’t you?” 
“Yes!” 
“Would you fuck yourself to completion and then take the whole thing?” He continued moving at that sharp, hurried pace as he slid it in and out of Nerevar.
“Fuck, yes—yes!!” He was panting desperately now, savoring the feeling. Voryn’s dirty talk was making this all the better—how had he gone so long without this?! If he’d known it would be this good, he’d have climbed into Voryn’s bed long before this.
“Imagining someone breeding you up?” Voryn was panting too, watching Nerevar with rapt attention. 
“Please,” Nerevar pleaded, feeling how close he was to an orgasm just hearing that. “Please, please~!” He tried grinding his hips down on the toy, desperate to feel the knot slipping inside him, but Voryn kept it from doing so. 
“My knot is the only one you’re going to feel this time, Neht.” Voryn growled low in Nerevar’s ear. “Only mine.” 
In response, Nerevar growled in return, quickly flipping positions as he climbed on top of Voryn instead. The toy completely slipped out, soon lost in the piles of pillows and blankets, as Voryn growled in return. The two were wrestling once again, though this time it wasn’t quite as playful. Honestly, Nerevar probably would have won this one by how seriously he was taking it, but heats made his body so groggy he wasn’t up to his usual strength. 
“Get inside me then.” Nerevar demanded through grit teeth as Voryn shoved him back down, prying his legs back open.
“Lay there and I will.” Nerevar still snarled, thrashing. “Now hold still or I’ll make you.” The threat made his cunt ache again, a long moan crawling out of his throat.
“Potion—“ Nerevar freed one arm, reaching for them. Voryn grabbed one, placing it in Nerevar’s hand as he finished undressing himself. Nerevar uncapped it and threw his head back, chugging it.
To Oblivion with taking it slow. He needed Voryn—all of him.
He tossed the potion bottle aside, wrapping his arms around Voryn as he nuzzled his face into his neck, now being the one to lick and kiss at a scent gland, almost intoxicated by the spice and musk. 
“Neht,” Voryn hissed. 
“Let’s mate.” Nerevar whispered, before feeling Voryn tense up. Silence followed, except for Voryn’s heavy breathing.
“Nerevar we don’t have to mate just to—“
“I want to.” Nerevar pulled back enough to look at him. “Be honest with me Voryn, who else am I going to mate with?” The very idea Nerevar could mate with someone else made Voryn’s anger spike, clear from the scent he gave off. “And even if we just tried to deny mating, just spending heats and ruts together, we’ll both lose it eventually.” The draw was supposedly undeniable, and Nerevar wanted to do it at least semi lucid without pain and desperation making the experience less enjoyable. 
“Besides,” Nerevar now gave a warm smile, the low light still twinkling in his eyes. “You’re a very devoted, loving, strong alpha…” Voryn shuddered. “Making sure I’m well fed, giving me medicine…”
“I have to take care of you…” Voryn whispered. “You mean the world to me.”
“Exactly.” Nerevar was still smiling, now thumbing at Voryn’s lower lip as he cupped his cheek. “Who else could possibly take care of me as well as you? You’re the one who’s always been there for me. You guarded my back in war, supported me on my quest to become hortator, and even long before I was a hero, just some canvasari not even wanted by his own house, you took care of me and showed me respect.” Just as easily, Voryn could have tossed him aside. Childish friendships with lower classes didn’t need to be kept by chimer nobility. Any other would have probably ‘outgrown’ Nerevar, but Voryn didn’t. Because Voryn didn’t just see Nerevar as a toy to be played with and tossed aside but as himself. 
Honestly, even being tossed aside by another noble would have been a good outcome. Many would have also taken Nerevar as a concubine after he presented, or sold him off given he had nowhere else to go. But Voryn always saw him as a friend he treasured.
“But,” Voryn gave a sigh, “You don’t love me.”
Ah. Nerevar didn’t think Voryn was the type to only want to mate when you truly loved someone. It only made sense he supposed, most people did, but he was used to seeing things in terms of practicality.
“Voryn,” He stroked his cheek, “Maybe I don’t love you romantically… Yet.” Nerevar wouldn’t discount that at all; if he’d fall in love with anyone, right now he imagined it would be Voryn. “And I don’t really know… What it’s even like to fall in love with someone completely like that given I’ve only had a few flings and a political marriage but,” He looked up into Voryn’s eyes, never more certain in matters of the heart than he was now. “I do know I care about you deeply. More than anyone else in my life.” Nerevar licked his lips. “And there is no person in the world I’d rather be mated with than you.” 
Silence then followed, Voryn staring at him in shock. Suddenly nervous, Nerevar began to backpedal slightly. 
“Of course I understand if you want to wait. I-gods, it would probably be easier for you if we did the whole courtship and dating thing first, wouldn’t it—“ He was then cut off by a kiss, Voryn’s tongue swiping into his mouth.
“I want to mate with you, Neht.” Voryn whispered, as he pulled away with a smile. “Tonight.”
“Are you sure? I—“ Nerevar swallowed roughly as he felt Voryn lift one of his legs up, his own instincts screaming at him that he needed this—that he needed to stop talking and get fucked right then and there.
“I’m certain.” Voryn said, his tone unwavering as he kept that warm smile on his face, his eyes shining. “Do you want me to mate with you before, during, or after?”
Nerevar licked his lips, thinking it over. A claiming bite was said to be extremely pleasurable, once the initial pain wore off. Some preferred to get it out of the way before sex, enjoying their new bond before warming back up. Some preferred the orgasmic rush that came with a claiming bite in the middle of sex. Others preferred to claim their mates while they laid together, panting and connected after being knotted.
“Not before,” Nerevar answered, his whole body still feeling warm. “I can’t… I can’t wait that long.” His body was still screaming at him to move, push the alpha on top of him down and ride him if he wasn’t going to take Nerevar already. He was squirming, antsy under Voryn’s gaze, and feeling too fucking empty again to think properly.
“Here,” Voryn whispered, pressing the head of his cock to Nerevar’s entrance. Nerevar’s breath hitched, before giving a long, drawn out moan as Voryn slid inside. “Why don’t we just see what feels right in the moment…”
“Voryn~!” Nerevar arched up, trembling slightly. 
It felt good. It felt right. It occurred to him, at that moment, that this was what he’d wanted every heat. Every struggling minute of desperation, every orgasm that didn’t quite feel satisfying enough—he wanted Voryn. 
Voryn threaded his fingers with Nerevar’s, pinning both of his hands to the bed as he gave a slow thrust, kissing him for all he was worth. No wonder his heats were so much more unbearable after he moved to Mournhold—he had assumed it was the heat and stress of being king, but he knew now it was his body screaming at him to return back to Voryn. To lose himself in Voryn’s embrace, just like this.
“Fuck…” Voryn groaned as he pulled away from the messy kiss. “Incredible—you feel incredible~”
Such a comment only stroked his pride, adding to the pleasure. He was making his mate feel good. He was making his mate feel just as good as he felt. It was enough to make his head spin, as every thrust quickly matched that sharp, hurried pace Voryn had set earlier with the toy.
“Claim me~” Nerevar whined, turning his head to expose his neck. Nerevar could feel it—he wanted to be claimed. Oh gods did he want to be claimed! Before he felt disgust whenever alphas glanced at his neck, trying to determine if he was a claimed omega or a beta of some kind. But now though he wanted it more than anything—
Voryn complied, moving down quickly, not letting the pace of his thrusts falter as he growled, nuzzling Nerevar’s neck. He licked and kissed, listening to every sharp whine from Nerevar that followed, before finally biting.
Nerevar’s mind went blank the second Voryn bit him, his eyes rolling back as he orgasmed.
It felt unreal—every fucking novel he read left him sorely unprepared for the pleasurable rush that hit him. It was pure bliss; every nerve in his body burning brightly from ecstasy, as Voryn growled deeply. 
He was officially mated. He belonged to Voryn. He found his mate and everything felt perfect, sparks still shooting up and down his spine as Voryn pulled his teeth out, panting and growling even more harshly as his hips somehow moved faster and rougher. He could feel Voryn’s knot forming too, pumping in and out of his cunt in a way that hit his sweet spot every time.
“Tight—!” Voryn snarled. “So tight, so damn tight… Neht!” 
“Knot me…” Nerevar moaned, coaxing Voryn further, feeling intoxicated from the pleasure still coursing through him. “Knot me, breed me up~” He ground his hips down at every thrust inside him, forcing Voryn to change the rhythm. Now, every thrust in he stayed a moment longer, grinding down, his knot catching on Nerevar’s entrance.
By now, Voryn had let go of Nerevar’s hands, face still buried in Nerevar’s neck as he moaned and growled into his ear. “I’m going to,“ Voryn panted. “I’m going to breed you, knot you until I know my seed takes—!” It wouldn’t, not after the potion Nerevar took, but he wasn’t thinking logically at the moment. All he was thinking about was how great it felt being fucked and bred by his mate, his alpha. “Mine! You’re all mine! Mine mine mine mine mine—!”
Finally, the knot refused to slip out. It swelled up completely, pressed firmly inside him, and Nerevar gasped as a new sensation overtook him. 
He felt himself tighten even further, making Voryn  moan long and loud, as the two were now firmly locked together. An orgasm hit him next, even more intense than the one from the claiming bite. If the bite was an intense, all encompassing blast of fire—like a star going supernova—this one was a drawn out burn. His mind didn’t go blank, instead forcing him to focus on the pleasure, as he felt heat inside him.
“Fuck~!!” Nerevar yelled, practically screaming, dragging his nails down Voryn’s back as his body shuddered, his cunt clenching and milking the cock still firmly sealed inside him. 
He knew what it was, yet he never really experienced it, so his knowledge was only really how it would be in theory. He never let an alpha knot him, after all; even if he had to have sex for political reasons he doused himself in perfume oil to hide his pheromones and always made sure they pulled out. Supposedly an omega locking happened much more commonly in heat, tightening around the knot as they orgasmed, keeping every drop of seed in to ensure conception…
Nerevar felt another wave of the long orgasm following, a broken, garbled moan spilling from his lips as Voryn rocked his hips.
“Stop moving!” Nerevar pleaded. If he kept rocking his knot right there—right against Nerevar’s sweet spot—he was never going to stop climaxing.
“Stop cumming!” Voryn hissed back, before groaning. “Oh gods you’re milking me for every drop!” He continued the slow rocking, as Nerevar felt fuller and fuller, his vision going hazy as tears rolled down his cheeks. 
“I can’t…” Nerevar whined. “Too full…” Nerevar groaned, still trembling. “It’s too much….” There was too much inside him—before he felt painfully empty, and now he felt far too full. Voryn’s cock, his knot, and every drop of seed was filling him—
Another wave of pleasure followed, as Voryn growled. 
“Your body wants this so badly…” He snarled, nipping at the claiming bite he left. “Get pregnant!” He hissed, enjoying the way Nerevar’s body tightened around him once more. The command was enough to make him shudder, yet another wave of pleasure following. “Get pregnant, get pregnant!” Voryn urged with a bit more rocking, before Nerevar tugged him into another messy, open mouthed kiss.
If it wasn’t for the potion, Nerevar knew he would be. It seemed impossible for him not to conceive when it felt this good—when he was so full and not a drop spilling out of him despite Voryn’s movements… 
Eventually the pleasure subsided, Voryn’s movements slowing as their kiss went from feral and intense to something slower and lazier, kissing each other over and over as Nerevar ran his hands through Voryn’s long hair. 
“Fuck…” Nerevar groaned, breathlessly. “Intense…” It felt like an understatement, but that was the only word that came to mind as Voryn panted. 
“Gods…” Voryn groaned. “You were… Tighter than I had expected…” He hissed, shifting slightly again, but this time just to help them lay more comfortably. 
“It still feels too big…” Nerevar groaned. Now it was slightly uncomfortable, but he knew the more they did this, the more his body would adjust. To help ease his discomfort, Voryn pressed a few gentle kisses to his face, keeping himself still.
“Is it too full?” Voryn asked, and Nerevar nodded. Voryn sat up slightly, and the pressure being taken off his lower stomach was a relief, especially as Voryn caressed it. 
As Nerevar looked down, he could see why: there was a slight swell in his stomach from the pressure. He groaned, already regretting the decision to have sex on his back. He knew now why omegas preferred mating face down, and that it had nothing to do with submission and instead purely comfort.
“Don’t worry,” Voryn reassured him. “Just a few minutes…” His voice trailed off as his eyes went dark, taking in the sight of Nerevar under him, panting and covered in sweat, filled with his seed. Nerevar could tell what he was thinking from the change of the scent in the air, sparks from their newly formed connection.
“Like what you see…?” Nerevar asked with a toothy, cocky grin, only to groan as he felt Voryn shift again.
“Keep acting like that and I’ll only want to take you again…” Voryn replied, his voice low. Nerevar still felt rather proud at that; his mate didn’t like a soft, demure, and submissive type of omega like he always kind of worried an alpha would demand once they mated. Instead, Voryn seemed to enjoy him earnestly, even with all of his showboating and teasing.
“Maybe you should…” Nerevar purred in response. “We can have dinner, a relaxing bath to recover…” Nerevar’s eyes were half lidded as he spoke. “And then you can fill me up all over again…” 
The warm, messy kiss Voryn gave him was all the answer Nerevar needed.  
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rise-my-angel · 9 months
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I am here for your takes on Dani. I'm glad I'm not the only one who thought her x Jon smelled of hot garbage. Like at best she was meh, and then when the two of them met I was just like "oh no....you're an entitled bitch". And now that its been years since I last consumed GoT, my thoughts have fermented into "oh no, she really is a conqueror" "oh no, everyone loves her because 'pretty badass lady'" "oh no i'm the fandom minority again". Anyway, where was I. She and Jon had no chemistry. The end.
The *only* way putting them in a romance even makes sense in concept is when you realize Benioff and Weiss gave Jon the Young Griff arc. It's why they gave him a Targ name, beacuse if they call him "aegon" then they can fufill that part of the books without ever having to establish Young Griff as his own character. He is the supposed son of Rhaegar Targaryean and Elia Martell, he goes to Westeros with intentions of using his better claim to take the throne and intends initially on marrying Dany, and it's theorized heavily that Dany will see his claim as a threat and the Burning of Kings Landing will come down to Aegon against Dany.
Jon Snow has nothing to do with that. He is a moral opposite to Dany as a charecter, and we've seen him time and time again be at strong odds against people with her morals. But by giving him the Young Griff arc, it means putting him into the romance spot when it makes no sense for him.
Hey I put a read more beacuse I cannot shut the fuck up about how this relationship is just rape and abuse but beacuse Jon's a man we think he wants it.
All of season 7 Jon is so out of place because he doesn't belong anywhere near Dany's Iron Throne plot, and he's being forced to interact romantically with a charecter that clearly he does not like as a person and is uncomfortable with.
But, Dany is the sacred cow of the GoT/asoiaf fandom. You love her and if you critizize her for villanious actions or morals then you are using bad faith towards her. While I personally don't like her, I don't mind other people liking her but I despise that her stans all refuse to allow any conversation about her being a morally bad person. A person who enjoys cruelty and death, enjoys creating fear and is smug when she can control others. That is not a person Jon would love, let alone even respect.
Their entire relationship wreaks of abuse, of Jon being forced into this and knows he cannot leave it without risking his and his families lives. Remember when Tyrion gave a very small level critisism of her actions and she angrily accused him of treason and siding with his family instead of her? Well what do people think would she have done, if her attraction to Jon was refused? Someone who she took all the defenses away from, all the power from, and could have killed at any moment (dont make an ygritte comparison mimi dont make an yrgitte comparison this is a different anti jon x fandom female fave charecter post).
I don't care how the show frames it, or what the intent was. What we got on screen, was Jon Snow being held prisoner to an immoral, cruel, military conquerer. And when that woman was attracted to him, she essentially forced herself into his life and gave him all but no choice. The Jon bending the knee scene and..the uh...boat...scene...later...uhhh....anyways, those to me feel so out of charecter. You cannot convince me Jon did any of this willingly. He is clearly trapped in this situation and cannot leave and is only with her beacuse she is violent and bloodthrirsty. But beacause Jon is a strong, capable man, it's not talked about as if he's the victim and that is insane to me. (Oh my good god the ygritte comparisons are almost laughable send help).
I don't consider a lot past season 5 to be canon, but if I am forced too, then I refuse to accept Jon was a willing participant in that relationship.
Jon's parentage reveal will always be about the revelations of his mother, and the understanding and acceptance of WHY Ned raised him the way he did. And how it was both his parents, his mother and his adopted father who loved him and kept him safe. The very fact that Young Griff's entire story is based around whether or not he truly is Rhaegar's son as opposed to that being a twist reveal is beacuse HE is the charecter whose Targaryean links is the important one. Jon's story is about him as Stark, and is always shown to be the moral opposite of Dany.
Their relationship in the best senario is not canon, but if it has to be, then there is no world in which Jon is there of his own free will. He is being forced into this relationship against his will. But considering his other love interest was another charecter who essentially forced him into a relationship against his will, and we were supposed to root for that tells me all I need to know.
Dany is a sacred cow charecter, and her stans are unreasonable in defending her. When you can like a charecter and critize them for their actions. Ned Stark was an idiot for ever trusting Petyr Baelish, Catelyn Stark's spiteful attitude and neglect of Jon Snow is was abusive behavior, Theon Greyjoy was a moron who ruined his own life for a father who long since abandonded him. Bam all charecters I love and there are some major flaws that I refuse to defend them for but thats also what makes them good charecters. Their flaws arent writing flaws, they are personal flaws for them as people.
Dany is not allowed to have personal flaws she is always to be justified even with incredibly bad faith defenses, but when she is flawed it's the writings fault not hers. Dany is a cruel, sadistic, controlling, military tyrant who enjoys watching her subjects fear her and her dragons. And she forced Jon Snow into a relationship with her beacuse otherwise then he is against her and we already knew she has no use for people who dont support her to be alive.
Jon Snow deserved better then to have both his love interests be domineering, controlling, abusive women who forced him into a romantic and sexual relationship.
Also, I mean, incest being normal is only a learned trait from Targaryens supporting their own blood purity. Jon was not raised to think incest is normal. Dany thinks its normal beacuse she and Viserys both were raised to think that, and Young Griff thinks marrying Dany is normal beacuse he too was raised with the mentality that Rhaegar would've been raised with. Jon finding out Dany was his aunt would've had Jon looking right at Sam and just
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softguarnere · 9 months
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Hello 😭 I really love your bofb fanfics and headcanons!! They are really awesome ✨ Also, I wonder if you could write a headcanon with Speirs, Luz, Liebgott, Roe, Welsh and Babe about the male reader being hurted during the battle and how they would react to that 😭😭? If yes, then thank you so, so much <33
Hi Anon! Thank you so much, I'm so glad that you enjoy them 🤗 I don't think I've ever written anything with Harry before, so I hope his turned out okay
Speirs
As an officer, Speirs would probably make a point of not showing favoritism towards you
But that becomes very difficult when he hears that you were wounded on the patrol
His reaction would probably be similar to how he reacted when Grant was shot
Letting the façade slip ever so slightly, the willingness to show a little more emotion in front of his men because someone he cares about was just hurt
When he gets to you, he definitely stays there the entire time, the medics working under his eagle-eyed watch
He's not trying to intimidate them or anything - he's just stressed out and waiting for the chance to talk to you
"You look mad," you note when you're finally alone.
Immediately, Ron's face softens. "Sorry. I've just been worrying about you."
"I know. You're not nearly so callous as everyone makes you out to be." You smile, teasing, even though you've just been hurt - your ability to find a bright side or the humor in a situation is one of the things that Ron admires and loves most about you. "Be careful though, Sparky. If too many people see you caring about me, it might ruin that heartless reputation of yours."
He can't help but laugh. For you, he would do anything, no matter what it did to his reputation
Luz
After what happened to Muck and Penkala, the thought of anyone he cares about getting hurt makes Luz feel sick to his stomach
And when he hears you're wounded? The color just drains from his face because he fears the worst
Luckily, you're not too hurt
(So then why is adrenaline coursing through his veins like he's preparing to run a marathon?)
When you see him come to the aid station, you flash him a smile. He tries, really, to return it, but it comes out as something closer to a grimace
"You come to cheer me up Luz?"
He's more than happy to see that you're okay, but he can't find it in him to crack any sort of joke to make you feel better
Instead, he presses a quick kiss to your temple. "Don't go scaring me like that again."
Liebgott
Okay it's during Bastogne and Liebgott has just gotten back from being Winters' runner for the day
At first when he realizes that you're not in your foxhole, he thinks that you've gone to make the rounds and visit your friends
Only he can't find you anywhere
Finally, Doc Roe tells him that you caught some shrapnel and were taken into the town
He's never seen Joe's eyes so wide, seen him so speechless, seen him scared, even - no one has
He guides Liebgott back into Bastogne so that he can see you
Joe is calm until he reaches the church and sees you, then he's power walking to the cot you sit on and has you in his arms in a second, holding you tight
"Are you okay?" He asks, and when you tell him that you are, he wants to make sure. "Promise?"
"I am. Are you?"
He squeezes your hand. "I am now."
Roe
As the company's medic, he's the first to arrive when he hears someone yell for help
But he feels like his heart stops beating when he realizes that the person who's hurt is you
For a moment he freezes. Spina is by his side, asking, "Do you want me to take this one?"
Somehow, that spurs Gene into action, helping patch you up as quickly as he can
Prepare to have your own personal doctor for the next few days, because he's constantly checking in with you to make sure that you're okay
"I never doubted that I would recover," you joke after the war is over and everyone is more capable of talking about certain events. You offer Gene a smile and a wink. "I mean, how could I not heal with the world's best medic taking care of me?"
No matter how much time passes, it never fails to make him blush
Welsh
No okay but I feel like he would be a lot more calm than everyone expects?
Like, the other officers don't know what he's going to do when he hears the news, but they feel like Harry is going to run off to find you the moment they tell him
He does leave when he hears that you're hurt, but he handles the whole thing very well
He asks the medics very clear questions about your condition, asks you how you feel, etc.
It's not until after the war that you find out why he was so calm
"I didn't want to scare you," he admits. "Because it felt appropriate that only one of us could freak out, and as the wounded man, it was your right."
Luckily, you both remained calm, managing to avoid scaring each other over the incident
But not a day goes by, even after the war, where Harry doesn't breathe a sigh of relief over the fact that you're okay
Babe
Who can blame him, really, for being worried after he's lost so many of his friends in Bastogne?
Babe would rush to your side the minute that he heard you were wounded - and he would remain there until he was perfectly certain that you're okay
He would be asking Doc Roe a hundred questions, trying to make sure that you're okay
Probably wouldn't let you out of his sight for the rest of the war. I mean, he almost lost someone else that he cares about, and he's not about to let that happen
In Austria, you ask him about it. You love him, but you feel bad that he worries for you so much
When the end of the war is announced, you can't help but smile at him. "Well, Babe, all that determination paid off - I made it to the end."
"Yeah," he would laugh. "All thanks to me."
He means it as a joke, but seeing how much he cared about you really made all the difference. You kiss him on the cheek. "All thanks to you," you agree
Thanks for the request, Anon, and I hope you like these! 💕🕊️
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brookheimer · 1 year
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i honestly can’t believe (i sorta can but also don’t?) that gerri is leaving waystar royco. like she fought so so hard and kinda enjoyed being interim-CEO? was roman truly the last straw or are we missing something? i know this is her divorce revenge dress era but i believe gerri could survive so much more
no i feel you honestly — i mean, gerri was waystar royco and vice versa. it’s hard to imagine waystar without her or her without waystar. but i think that’s kinda the point in some ways. i mean, i’m not sure how permanent the decision to leave is going to be given this is the They’re Doing The Thing They Said They Weren’t Going To Do?! show but i wouldn’t be surprised or upset if it is final. i actually kind of like it, maybe. you are completely right that gerri could survive so much more, and honestly, i think that has been her mindset for years — i can survive this, i can survive far worse than this. that’s a big part of why she’s stayed even during these horrific past few months, i think: she knows she can deal, she knows she can weather it, she knows she can survive it. but… just because you can survive something doesn’t mean you have to.
i think that’s what roman’s firing shifted for gerri — it wasn’t that this particular action of his was beyond the pale and she just couldn’t deal with it any longer, but that gerri was suddenly faced with a waystar-less future for the first time in decades and she realized…. holy fuck, why AM i still here? why DO i put up with this? am i staying just to prove that i’m capable of staying, and if so, how does that benefit me at all? is it a sunk cost fallacy thing, and if so, isn’t it called a fallacy for a reason? what am i actually getting out of this? how does this serve my interests?
at least that’s my read — it’s not just that the firing was the straw that broke the camel’s back, but also served as a lightbulb moment that made gerri realize that just because she CAN weather it doesn’t mean she SHOULD. it was a reality check on a multitude of fronts — if after all this time she still held out some hope for a business partnership with roman, for the potential she knows was there to unearth itself once more, then the firing functioned as a rude awakening, making her realize what logan did long ago: these are not serious people. and even more importantly, it forced her to think about a life outside of waystar, something i assume she genuinely has not thought about in… i don’t even know, 30 years? waystar was an immovable aspect of her identity until suddenly it wasn’t, and being forced to look out into a waystar-less future made her realize “wait, why the fuck AM i putting up with this?” logan is gone. the company is spiraling downwards. it’s crisis after crisis. no one respects or listens to her. waystar is headed towards fascism and ruin and humiliation. meanwhile…. she could make millions upon millions, do whatever the fuck she wanted (if she wanted to keep working, she could get hired quite literally anywhere with her record), control her own narrative and go out with a bang, and on top of all that, not be tied to a sinking ship steered by a captain who psychosexually loves/hates/misses/avoids her and makes her life hell. she realized roman would never be the person she wanted him to be, but even more than that, why did it matter to her in the first place? everything that kept her at waystar is going going gone. she does not need waystar. waystar needs her.
so the question isn’t really “couldn’t she survive this?” in my opinion — it’s “why would she?” how does it serve her interests? and…. well, it doesn’t. staying at waystar after realizing that would be breaking the number one rule of being gerri kellman: only do what serves your interests. and now that waystar and her interests no longer align, what would she stay for, sentimentality? no. fuck that. she’s going to buy an island and become ceo of some other news conglomerate and drink her martinis in fucking peace because gerri does what’s best for her and god knows that isn’t waystar anymore — and, frankly, it hasn’t been for a long time. she was just so busy surviving, so GOOD at surviving, that maybe she forgot she didn’t need to.
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five-rivers · 1 year
Text
Life's Great Lie 13
AO3
Lake Eerie wasn’t a random choice.  In addition to being close enough for the GAV to make the trip, if things did go as badly as Sam thought they would, the lake provided a way to escape ground-bound pursuit, and even a temporary respite from enemies in the air. 
It wasn’t widely advertised –because Jazz’s parents didn’t have much opportunity to use it, rather than any desire to keep it secret – but the Ops Center’s carriage could be safely submerged underwater, and even had rudimentary maneuvering capability. 
If that failed… well, Lake Eerie was a thin spot.  Walker’s second incursion was proof of that.  Not to mention the vicious lake monster.  Jazz hoped that SHIELD’s lack of experience with ghosts would make finding them in the woods if they had to flee that way. 
Or, if they got really desperate, they could use the porta-portal or the bazooka.  Try their luck in the Ghost Zone. 
Jazz hoped it wouldn’t come to that. 
The (Fentonworks New and Improved!) radar pinged at about the same time the wireless connection to the GAV came online. 
“So…” said Sam, “I’ll go out, you keep an eye on things in here.”
Jazz nodded, leaning forward to peer out the window in the direction the jet was supposed to come.  So far, she couldn’t see it. 
Considering the way the ‘helicarrier’ had been cloaked, that didn’t mean anything.  She looked back down at the radar.   
“The SHIELD guys should be here first if this is accurate,” she said. 
“Great.  Be ready to take arrow boy hostage.”
“I’ve told you my name,” complained arrow boy.  “I’ve even told you my code name.  You don’t have to call me that.”
Sam snorted and looked over her shoulder on her way out.  “Whatever you say, arrow boy.”
.
“Hey,” said Tucker, without preamble, “remind me what Danny had us take again.”
Sam glanced behind him at the small crowd.  Tony Stark was a lot shorter in person than he looked on TV.  Dr. Banner – a surprisingly common face in Casper High science lessons – was frowning down at a large, screened box in his hands.  Captain America was… Well, it was kind of weird to see the guy who rescued your great-grandparents from death or worse.  She might not exist without him.  Thor was practically indescribable.  What did you even say about a guy like that?  The only woman, who must be Romanov, Black Widow, stayed by their plane, leaning against one of the door supports in a way that looked casual but was anything but.  Valerie stood slightly apart, her suit retracted for the moment, glaring at everyone.
“I think it’s fine,” said Tucker.  “All things considered.”
“All things considered,” repeated Sam. 
“A bunch of the spare portal parts.  The porta-portal.  Shields, for both humans and ghosts.  The ecto-converter.  Some other random parts I can’t remember.  Not anything we usually work with.  Jazz knew what it was.”
Tucker nodded.  “Okay, yeah.  I think I know what he wanted us to do with all of this.”
“So do I,” said Sam.
“I got kidnapped,” pointed out Tucker. 
“We didn’t kidnap you,” said Romanov. 
“You kind of did.”
“Jazz got shot,” countered Sam.
“Speaking of which, where is Barton?”
Sam pointed.  “Inside.”
“Not like him to not come out.”
“That’s because he’s still tied up,” said Sam.  “We wanted to make sure you weren’t going to come guns blazing.  Or with your giant spaceship thing.”
“Well,” said Stark, loudly, “we thought that would be kind of a bad idea with all the spies—Sorry, the spies that were spying on the spies.”
Captain America pinched the bridge of his nose.  “Do you ever stop?”
“Hey, you should be thanking me.  I just—”
“You have no idea what HYDRA is capable of.”
“Um,” said Tucker.  “Can we go in?”
“Yeah, no,” said Sam.  “We’re waiting for someone else.”
“Oh, no,” said Tucker.  “Come on, did you guys really--?”
“Yeah,” said Sam.  “We needed backup.”
“And what am I?”
“Down a staff, it looks like.”
Tucker shot a glare at Romanov.
“You’re not getting it back until I see Barton.  Speaking of equipment, boys, I don’t see anywhere to park our bus on that thing, so you’d better help unload.”
“Can you—Actually, I’m getting a lot of weird readings on this thing—”
“I’m telling you, man, it’s the ectoplasm.”
Banner frowned slightly at Tucker and looked back at his machine even as he wandered back to the jet.  “Gamma radiation makes much more sense.”
“Does it, though?” asked Tucker.  “I mean, like.  Your whole everything…  Radiation shouldn’t really do that.”
“He’s got a point there,” said Tony Stark as he hauled a set of boxes out on a hand trolley.  “The whole… Hulking out thing.  Doesn’t seem to follow conservation of matter—Have you looked into that?”
“In between running from jingoistic lunatics, sure.”
The sound of an engine made everyone turn.  The GAV rounded the corner a few minutes later, turning so sharply that it almost tipped over.  Seconds later, it narrowly missed hitting the jet and pancaking Stark and Banner and disgorged Jack and Maddie, waving guns.
.
The thing was, Sam, Tucker, and even Valerie, to some extent, were used to the Fentons’ antics.  Stark and Banner were not.  Banner, as they had just been discussing, had superpowers activated by adrenaline and an elevated heartrate.  Anger was the main trigger, but fear… Fear worked too. 
It looked like Sam would get to say ‘I told you so’ a lot earlier than she’d thought. 
.
“How often do human… teenagers… have to sleep?”
“Hm?” asked Selvig, dropping the small component he’d been handling with tweezers.  He swore and dove after it. 
“I suppose I should ask how frequently adult humans need to sleep, instead,” said Loki with a sneer and a roll of his eyes. 
“Well,” said Selvig with a chuckle, “usually we try to sleep once a day.  Eight hours is the recommended amount.  But, heh, you know, academics, we don’t really follow the rules, you know?  You know.  Right?  I mean, you’re up there in space and all… Do they have academics in space?”
“Arguably,” said Danny, “all astronauts are academics of some sort or another.  Scientists, right?  Although, the earlier ones were military, so I suppose they weren’t.  But I guess the question is more about whether or not Loki’s people have academics.  Do you have academics?”
Loki turned slightly to look at the boy incredulously.  Danny blinked back up at him.
“Don’t—” Loki cut himself off before he could say something that could be construed as an order and looked back at Selvig who was trying to lower a piece of equipment into a padded carrying case but kept missing the hole in the shaped ‘styrofoam.’  “How often do teenagers need to sleep?”
“About the same?” said Selvig vaguely.  “I think they’re supposed to get more to stay healthy, but I’ve never had children.  Unless you count my students!  Ha!”  He finally got the part into the Styrofoam hole and smiled triumphantly at Loki.  “Fits like a glove!”
Danny leaned forward to peer at the box.  Loki pushed him back. 
Loki could care less about any of his thralls staying healthy, but he needed them to at least last long enough to get his army.  To get the chitauri.  His staff could not keep them awake indefinitely.  Eventually, their endurance would wane and fail.  Or so he had been told. 
The staff, like the army, was a loaner. 
It matched with the rules of magic he was familiar with, however.  No spell was perfect or unbreakable, no matter how powerful the focus, and the realm of dreams was… strange. 
That was the only reason for his concern.  No other. 
“You could always let us sleep, if you’re so worried,” said Danny. “How often do your people need to sleep?  Asgardians, right?  Or are you an Asgardian if you’re adopted?  I mean, you and Thor look alike, but then you guys look like humans, too, and that’s not what I would have expected from aliens, overall.”
Loki rolled his eyes.  Danny was evidently one of those aggravating people who became more talkative with fatigue.  “My father sleeps once a year.”  Well.  The Odinsleep happened once a year.  And Loki was technically a Jotun, not an Asgardian.  But that hardly mattered.  Loki did not need to sleep.  He was not tired.  He had no desire to close his eyes and see—
“Is that your actual dad, or, like, your biological dad?”
Gods did not groan.
.
Jazz seriously hoped they didn’t need anything on that jet, because it didn’t look remotely salvageable after that. 
“Hey!” called Barton.  “What’s going on out there?”
Jazz was having enough trouble trying to trigger the right controls with only one hand.  She didn’t answer.  Could she--?  No, the Ops Center portal generator didn’t work that way.  She couldn’t punch the coordinates for that.  What she could do, however…
She hit the activation button, and the shield sprang into being with the Hulk on one side and everyone else on the inside, Captain America’s shield ding­-ing off the shield in a way that resonated loudly enough to hurt Jazz’s ears.  The Hulk ran into the shield at full speed and rebounded, stumbling back into the lake.  He roared, clearly furious.  Ripples spread across the water. 
… And the Lake Eerie Monster rose from the depths. 
The Hulk whirled and leapt at the new combatant.  The fight sent water splashing, huge waves breaking over the shore.  Jazz hissed, adjusting the shield to keep the water out.  How much air did they have?  Jazz couldn’t remember how much air a person needed.  It was probably enough for at least a little while. 
The fight was impressive.  Jazz could say that even after watching Danny fight so often.  It was also incredibly brutal.  There was no finesse, no form, and there didn’t need to be.  The sheer physical power of the combatants made it redundant. 
She couldn’t help but think that Danny could beat both of them. 
The lake flared with light, visible even through the green-tinted ectoplasmic shield.  When the light cleared, both the ghost and the surprisingly ghost-like man were gone.
“Hey!  Whoa, whoa, whoa!  What was that?  Where’d Banner go?” shouted Iron Man, audible through the external PA system, which meant that he really had to be shouting, because that thing sucked.
Jazz hissed through her teeth.  She hadn’t caused this situation, but she’d certainly been involved in sending one of the preeminent scientific minds of the century to the Ghost Zone.  Not as bad as killing him, sure, but there it was. 
This was a bad day.  This was a bad, bad day. 
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angsty-violet · 4 months
Text
Deviant Thoughts
I filled this for an anonymous prompt on the KPTS kinkmeme.
“Kinn looks amazing in that suit.” God, could Big be any more absurd? Aim a little lower, buddy, because it ain’t happening.
“Big’s ass looks amazing in those pants.” Finally, some realism, and from Ken of all people.
“We’ve got five shipments coming in in the next few weeks. Going to have to be on top of that.” Nothing but work, work, work from Golden Boy Kinn.
“Those new recruits are basically useless. It’ll take weeks, possibly months, to get them anywhere near ready.” Well, that could be a good in, and from Chan of all people.
“We’re going to need to be careful with the Russians,” Don said.
Vegas could feel his temper starting to rise. He continued to scroll through each set of thoughts, trying to distract himself from the stupidity of that man.
“God, I want a nap.
“I am starving. They never give us anything real to eat.
“I could totally bludgeon that Italian dick with my bare hands. Just crack his skull open and spill his brains all over the floor.”
“Man, my shoulder hurts.”
Wait, what? Vegas backtracked for a minute. Who had thought about bludgeoning Don? He rescanned the thoughts, focusing on each face in turn. Finally, he found the one with the violence.
“Could he be any more conceited? I just want to make him beg and scream for mercy. I want to force him to beg for death. Stupid bastard.”
Was that Pete?!
Not sweet little, blushed when he was flirted with, Pete!
Vegas smirked. Oh, this was going to be fun.
He lingered after the meeting. Normally, he liked to mess with Kinn. Rile him up, fuck with his mind and then take his leave before he really explodes. However, Vegas followed Pete instead of following Kinn to his office to start messing with him.
He was walking back toward Khun’s floor, and Vegas knew that if he wanted to talk to Pete, he would have to get to him before Khun saw him. So, he jogged to catch up.
“Hey, Pete!”
Pete halted and eyed Vegas warily. Then he pasted on that fake smile he did so well.
“Can I help you, Khun Vegas?”
God, he wanted to mess with him so badly. Vegas smiled at him.
“I just wanted to see how you were, Pete. You seem to be a little frustrated and a little on edge.”
Pete’s eyes narrowed, and he looked at Vegas, really looked at him. Vegas knew that most of the main family considered him a pest. He was the eldest son of the minor family. Only good for torture and interrogation. Because of that, their eyes tended to just skim past him. Which was fine with Vegas. He liked flying under the radar. Occasionally, one of them would see him, for real, and then Vegas had them.
Like now, he knew that Pete was intrigued. He didn’t do it during conversations very often because it tended to confuse him, but he skimmed Pete’s thoughts.
“Why is he talking to me? I can barely control myself. If I could tear that expensive shirt off him and get away with it, I’d be all over him. I’d show him who’s really boss and leave my mark all over that lovely skin. Play with his nipples until he’s wet and helpless.”
“I’m fine, Khun Vegas.”
Vegas smirked and stepped a little closer, thrusting his chest forward. Pete’s eyes flicked to the nipples in question and back to Vegas’ face, but he didn’t back down.
“Shame, for a moment there, you almost seemed interesting.”
“Please, please leave. I don’t know how long I can stand this without making a huge mistake. God, he’s so beautiful. Those cheekbones and that smirk. I bet his cock is big. I bet it feels so good. I bet he makes all of Kinn’s twinks his pets. They’re probably putty in those strong, capable hands. If I could kill them all just to get a taste of him, I would.”
“Well, I’m not.”
Vegas smirked since Pete seemed to like it so much and turned around. “I’ll see you later, pet. Oh, sorry, I mean Pete.”
“Fuuuuck.”
Vegas made sure to put an extra bit of saunter into his hips as he walked away. He knew the pants were ridiculously tight and would show off absolutely everything. Vegas couldn’t wait until the next meeting.
“Okay, keep it cool. Just take deep breaths. You get through this meeting, and tomorrow’s your day off. You just need to not think about Vegas. Not about his gorgeous hands. Or his skill at torture. Or that large cock that would feel so good inside of you. It would fill every empty space and….no, stop, fuck. You moron, he’s the enemy.”
It was all Vegas could do to listen to the meeting. Whenever he tried to focus on what Kinn was saying, his mind would wander back to Pete’s thoughts. Vegas wasn’t sure what was causing Pete to have all of these thoughts, but he would have fun with it.
Today, he had dressed in his tightest pants and shirt. The shirt was a lacy, semi-translucent thing that stuck to his nipples. It was probably the sluttiest thing he owned, but he rarely wore it. Not enough people would appreciate the taunt and tease of barely seeing something. But Vegas had a feeling Pete would.
Kinn was blathering on about duty and some crap, so Vegas was free to let his mind wander over to his new favorite plaything.
“Oh, why is he wearing that shirt? His nipples, dear God, his nipples. How am I supposed to focus when they’re on display? How am I supposed to do my job when that pretty chest is right there for the taking? Stupid, slutty, Vegas.”
Oh, Vegas was a slut? Who was fantasizing about the enemy?
Vegas made sure to linger and then dropped his pen right in front of Pete. He watched as Pete’s eyes looked down his V-neck and smirked.
“He is right there, being a whore, and I can’t do anything? How is this fair? He has to be doing this on purpose. He has to be fucking with me. Stupid boy. I am going to bend him over this table if he doesn’t leave. Okay, take deep breaths. Don’t let anyone know how he makes you feel, least of all him.”
“Well, I’d love to stay and chat, but I have to be going. Don’t worry though, I’ll be back.”
 “How has no one ever spanked him? How has no one turned him over their laps and paddled that misbehaving little ass until he apologized and begged for mercy? If I could get away with it, I’d force him to take hit after hit. I wouldn’t stop until he was a desperate, sobbing, helpless little mess.”
Vegas was forced to cross his legs to hide his slight hardness. Normally, he liked to do the spanking, but the very detailed image of him across Pete’s knees was turning him on so much he could hardly stand it.
Pete’s face never seemed to change during these little fantasies. He could be imagining forcing Vegas to take his cock for hours at a time, and his expression never lost that blank look.
Vegas was having the absolute best time fucking with Pete. Suddenly, the meetings he had spent so long dreading were the highlight of his day. He could also tell that Pete was starting to get suspicious of something. That suited Vegas just fine. He couldn’t wait to fuck with Pete even more. He had worn a suspiciously inconspicuous white t-shirt. Something that normally he wouldn’t be caught dead in. However, today was a special occasion, and this one would work the best. It was finally time to fulfill one of Pete’s regular fantasies.
Vegas had been waiting nearly a week and a half for a meeting to be held outside over by the sprinklers. He’d been planning it since he had heard Pete’s off-hand thought about seeing him soaking wet. It had taken some planning, but he knew exactly when the sprinklers would turn on.
It was easy to pretend he had just wandered off because he was nosy. It didn’t take any time to be in the middle of them when they went off. He made an excellent show of anger and upset. Playing at having not done it on purpose and being very put out. However, it was all worth it when he met Pete’s eyes and skimmed his thoughts.
“Why the fuck is he wet? He’s literally sopping wet. That shouldn’t be a real thing in life?! I am going to get him for this.”
“Okay, that’s it,” was all Vegas heard before being slammed face-first against a wall. A large hand pressed against the back of his neck, and another grabbed both of his hands, pinning them to the small of his back. He felt warm breath against his ear.
“I don’t know what you are or how you’re figuring out what I’m thinking, but I am done with having my thoughts read.”
Vegas squirmed in the hold and pressed his ass back against the hard cock. “Come on, Pete. You can’t tell me you don’t enjoy someone finally noticing you. That someone knows what and how you feel. The real you underneath all those fake smiles.”
Pete’s hand moved from the back of Vegas’ neck to the front, and he squeezed. “I knew it was something like that. It was all a little too convenient. The clothes, the flirting, you somehow ending up drenched in water. That was all too close to what I was thinking about.”
Vegas moaned as the hand tightened. His vision was starting to go blurry around the edges, and it was so turned on that he could barely think. The pressure just slightly let up, and he took a deep breath and coughed.
“I should hurt you for invading my privacy like that,” Pete muttered darkly.
“Then do it. Punish me for being bad, show me who’s boss. Or would you rather I be the one to take control instead? Would you rather it be me that takes and gives you nothing? Turn you into my helpless little pet.”
“No, I don’t think so.”
Pete started steering Vegas out of the building and toward his bike. He never let that tight grip go on Vegas’ neck, and Vegas never protested the rough treatment. He was really enjoying being thrown around like a ragdoll.
Pete pushed him toward the bike. “Drive, I’ll ride, and you’re going to take us to a nice hotel where no one knows who you are.”
Vegas grinned in delight and climbed onto the bike. Pete got behind him and put his arms around Vegas’ waist tightly.
“Better hurry. I’m starting to grow impatient.”
Vegas let out a shaky breath, and then they were speeding off.
The hotel was nice, but Pete had no issue letting Vegas put down his credit card. That staff didn’t even blink at Pete’s possessive grip on Vegas.
Pete took both keys from them and steered Vegas toward the elevator. Vegas tried not to squirm too much as he was walked over.
“In,” Pete ordered him.
Vegas complied, entering the hotel room. He thought of skimming Pete’s thoughts again just to get a glimpse of what the man had in store for him, but then he thought better of it. He wanted this to be a surprise, and he didn’t want to actually upset Pete. At least not when they were about to be naked together.
“Clothes off. Let’s see all of those things you’ve spent the last few weeks taunting me with. Maybe if you behave well enough, I’ll even let you top me. But I bet a slut like you likes getting fucked even more than to top.”
Vegas stripped out of his clothes quickly. He was way too turned on to try to turn it into a show. Pete inspected him with a careful eye, and Vegas bit back a whimper.
“Very nice. I can see why all of Kinn’s twink hookers thought you were worth risking their lives. I’m not them. You can’t skim my thoughts and get away with it. Speaking of which, tonight, if I catch you having a peak, I’m going to get up and leave you here, no matter what condition you’re in. Do you understand me?”
“Yes,” Vegas breathed out. “I understand.”
“I’m glad, on the bed, on your back, legs apart. I want you to hold still, but feel free to be loud if you want to.”
Vegas did as he was told. He laid down and spread his legs. Pete settled between them and looked down at Vegas. He inspected him for a moment and then bent over, placing his mouth on the body part that had been torturing him for weeks. Vegas moaned at the feeling of Pete’s teeth scraping against his right nipple but stayed still. Pete’s hand tweaked the left, and Vegas took several deep, shaky breaths in a row. Pete pulled back from him.
“Whore,” he muttered.
Pete was in no mood for a long, drawn-out prep, and he also wasn’t in the mood to be fingered. He had heard stories from a few of the prostitutes at Vegas’ best skill. Pete was determined to feel it in action. He adjusted his position on the bed so his ass was right in front of Vegas’ face.
“Go on then, show me your favorite skill. I’ve heard stories. If you do a good enough job, you’ll get to fuck me. If you don’t, well then, I guess you’re in for a long, lonely night.”
Vegas ate ass like he was in the ass-eating Olympics and determined to get gold. Pete could understand why all those men would throw away Kinn when they had Vegas doing this to them each night.
“Oh, you can be a good boy, can’t you? You can do as you’re told and please your partner, not just tease.”
Vegas moaned against Pete’s hole. Pete wanted to continue this treatment, but he was impatient for the next step. It had been a long, frustrating few weeks with Vegas constantly tormenting and turning him on. It was time to get what he was owed from the tease.
Pete pulled back, ignoring Vegas’ whines. He leaned over the bed and, retrieved the bag he had placed there earlier and removed a condom and a small packet of travel lube. Then he turned around so he was facing Vegas.
Vegas was looking at him up through his eyelashes, and Pete couldn’t resist. He slapped him across the face, delighting in the bloom of bruise on Vegas’ cheek.
“Pete,” he whined softly.
“I know, baby. Let me get you ready.” Pete rolled the condom onto Vegas, watching as he fought to keep still. Then he slicked him up with the lube. He didn’t care for any more prep and straddled Vegas’ hips.
“You want it?”
Vegas bit his lip and nodded.
“No, use your words Vegas. Tell me what you want.”
“Want to fuck you.”
Pete leaned over, feeling mean. “Yeah, that’s what you want?”
“Please, Pete, yes.”
“Alright then,” and Pete sunk down on his cock. Vegas threw his head back and moaned loudly. Pete moved until Vegas was all the way inside of him and then stopped. They were both panting, and Pete was reveling in the stretch and burn.
“I should’ve done this to you years ago. I should’ve bent you over a meeting table and fucked you. Had you fuck me. Put you into every imaginable position until we were so tangled in each other it could never come undone.”
Pete started to rock gently, and Vegas’ hands clenched in the bedsheets, not sure what he could do with them. Pete picked one of them up and guided it to his back.
“You can touch.”
Given permission, Vegas’ hands roamed all over his body. His front, his back, up and down his side, cataloging everything he found there. Pete found his rhythm and started riding Vegas. He was right about the big cock filling him up so well.
“Oh, you’re good. You feel so good inside me. I should keep you. Just not let you go back. Keep you tucked away in a house somewhere like you do with all of Kinn’s throwaways.”
Vegas’ hands dug in, and Pete tossed back his head, moaning in delight at the pleasure-pain contrast. He delighted in it.
Pete could feel his orgasm starting to rise, but he didn’t want to come before being filled up. That was his favorite part.
“Vegas?”
Vegas looked up at him.
“Will you come for me, sweet boy?”
Vegas whined, long and high, and Pete felt the warmth inside of him. He continued to ride Vegas, not letting him get away from the overstimulation.
Pete could tell that he wasn’t going to get there from just the fucking, so he guided one of Vegas’ hands to his cock. Vegas took the initiative and started stroking him. His other hand came up to play with Pete’s balls, which were hanging low and heavy.
“That’s it, baby. There you go, darling. Just like that.”
It was enough to get him over that edge, and when he clamped down during his orgasm, Vegas let out the most pathetic whimper Pete had ever heard in his entire life. Pete cooed condescendingly at him. He was starting to become oversensitive, so Pete gently lifted himself off Vegas and rolled over. He heard Vegas deal with the condom while he fetched a towel from the bathroom.
Pete cleaned both of them and then lay down on the bed.
“Come here, right now.”
Vegas blinked, looking a little vulnerable and then scooted closer. Pete placed a possessive arm around his waist and kissed his cheek.
“If you’re gone in the morning, I’m going to hunt you down. Do you believe me? You can peek if you don’t.”
Vegas looked up at him and leaned over for their first kiss. Pete met him and kissed him soundly.
“Yeah, I understand.”
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taminoarticles · 1 year
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— Tamino for ODDA Magazine, No. 23 / Fall/Winter 2022-23 / Spring 2023 (x)
TAMINO
"When the heart speaks, the mind finds it indecent to object," says Milan Kundera in his masterpiece, "The Unbearable Lightness of Being," Tamino's favorite novel. And it is that the music of this young Belgian-Egyptian singer cannot come from anywhere other than a heart that harbors feelings as pure as longing or melancholy. At 25 years old, Tamino has turned into a musical reference due to his complex themes and his deep and emotional voice that became known for the acclaimed song "Habibi," instant success in 2018. His first album, "Amir," was not long in coming to confirm his undoubted talent, capable of conquering even musicians like Colin Greenwood, a member of Radiohead and Tamino's frequent collaborator. Now, after taking a break from all this whirlwind of emotions, he returns to the spotlight determined to move us with "Sahar," his sophomore album, released at the end of September 2022, that shows us a more vitalistic and tender side of the singer, who takes us by the hand to guide us through the boulevard of broken hearts. Could there be a better company?
In conversation with JUAN MARTÍ SERRANO Photographer JAIME CABRERA HUIDOBRO Fashion Editor ADRIAN BERNAL Casting Director CHOUAÏB ARIF Edited by EMMELEIA DALIWAN and ALBERTO CALABRESE Dog MOZAR
JUAN MARTI SERRANO. Hello Tamino, it is a pleasure to meet you! I'd like to talk a little about your past. You started in the music industry at a very young age, when you were only 14 years old, creating your own music band. Now, at 25, when you look back, how do you remember those years?
TAMINO. When I was 14, I started out playing in bands very locally in Belgium so I wouldn't call it "the music industry yet," we were performing but not making any money. That period of my life taught me a lot about band dynamics and sound checks, some stuff you have to learn. At 17, I went to study in Amsterdam and I started performing just by myself. Suddenly, when I created my first song in 2017, stuff started happening, I was 19-20 years old. Those years were quite crazy, a rollercoaster, a lot happened in a short amount of time. I was never home, touring all the time...
J.M.S. What was more fun, those old days or just now?
T. I couldn't say. There are aspects of it now that are more fun and there are aspects of before that are also more fun. The weird thing is that I've always taken this very seriously, in that sense nothing has really changed. If I would play in a small cafe show when I was 17 in Amsterdam I would take it as seriously as I am taking the show now. I don’t allow myself to go crazy like drinking the night before or whatever. I'm quite boring in that sense, I'm very dedicated to the shows and what I’m doing, I always want quality. I guess the scale is the only thing that has changed.
"I'm an introvert so that's where I get my energy, when I'm alone, I recharge my batteries." - Tamino
J.M.S. What lessons have you learned during all these years?
T. That I don’t really like traveling! [laughs.] I mean, I love being in other places, I love meeting new people and cultures but I don't like traveling itself. I know some people like flying, but I really hate it, I hate all the waiting around it. At the same time, when you are on tour with the same people all the time, sometimes in close spaces, I concluded, "Yes, I’m an introvert." I need time for myself, I need to read, to have space. That's the main thing that I have learned.
J.M.S. Have you ever thought about a life not linked to music? Have you ever contemplated a future detached from your role as a singer?
T. First, I really loved acting and directing. I was always making these little theater plays and forcing my little brother to participate in them. That was actually my first passion, I really, really loved it. I took it very seriously as well even though I was fucking eight years old or whatever. I acted until I was 15 or 16 along with the music but music eventually took over. The funny thing is that now my brother is an actor and a director. That was basically the only other aspiration I ever had.
J.M.S. Have you ever thought of revisiting your acting passion?
T. If I do anything with it I would really need to take it as seriously as music. It couldn't be a part-time thing, it would require a lot of my time and effort. I should just be able to give it my everything.
J.M.S. You consider yourself a composer before a musician. I would like to know what inspires you the most when creating your sound and your lyrics.
T. I really don’t know! [laughs] I think that’s the beauty of songwriting, you simply don’t know where it comes from. If I think about books or other music, yes. I can tell you about several people that inspire me the most. I really love reading a lot because it’s sort of this in-depth perspective of someone else’s life or whatever which is super inspiring for me. Something about reading a book makes me want to write a song as well. But the biggest thing of course is just living. The main thing behind my songwriting has always been finding a sort of inner world, also to work through things. I don't want to call it therapy because it is an art form and not every song must be autobiographical, it is just a place where I can let my emotions be and refine them in a way.
J.M.S. Now I am very curious to know what your favorite book is...
T. I really love "The Unbearable Lightness of Being" by Milan Kundera.
J.M.S. And tell me, when it comes to composing the narrative of your music, I would like to know if they are based on your own experiences or on the experiences of others. Do you find more inspiration in your life or in the lives of others?
T. I guess it's always a combination. You go through life experiencing whatever comes across your path but you are also an observer. It is always a little bit of both. I have to say that when something impactful happens to me there is of course an inner tension that wants to get out of me. That's the most natural state of being when wanting to create something. If that isn't there, life can be sometimes very still or dynamic, then it’s more a craftsmanship thing. I couldn't say if one stage is better than the other. I don't necessarily think that the best song comes from this struggle and tense state of being or maybe of the observer state of being. Both influence each other, it's like a dance.
J.M.S. Don't you think that many times writing music forces you to constantly immerse yourself in your memories and experiences as if it were an eternal and exhausting spiral of introspection?
T. It's the other way around [laughs.] It's not being a musician that makes me think about all those things all the time; it is just the fact that I always think about those things that probably made me into a musician. That it's just how I am and how I've always been. There is this beautiful song called "I Watched The Film The Song Remains The Same" by Sun Kil Moon. In this song, the singer thinks about his childhood and compares his friends to himself and how he always was drawn to the melancholic aspects of things and how things never leave him. He once had a fight at school and how that event is going to haunt him forever. I really relate to that emotion, to that song. That's probably the main reason why I make stuff.
J.M.S. Being a melancholic and nostalgic person but at the same time young and sensitive, have you ever stopped to think about what the hell you really know about life?
T. Of course! [laughs.] When you are a bit younger you think you know everything, you think you are invincible but of course, that grows out of you quickly normally when you grow into adulthood. I don't think being a songwriter is about knowing things, it’s more about exploring them and accepting the fact that you don’t know anything and you are just figuring it all out. I think that figures out all-out aspects of it that people relate to in a way because at the end if you look at songs from whatever era, you find similar things. Human experiences are not very different from each other.
J.M.S. Are you hoping to figure things out?
T. Yeah! You are always trying to figure things out I guess.
J.M.S. Your single "Habibi" made you reach fame back in 2018, a song that was highly applauded by the public and critics. How do you feel when you listen to that song? Do you still recognize yourself in those lyrics?
T. I recognize the boy who wrote it at the time. I was 18 so I have a lot of love for that younger self. It was a very courageous song to release especially at that age. I'm super happy that I did that at the end. It is still a song that I love performing. The beautiful thing about songs is that they evolve with you. When I'm singing it now,the feeling I get from the  song is different. There are so many memories attached to the song that come back and give me a similar feeling as it did back then, but the song changes a bit with you. It keeps on surprising me.
J.M.S. The same year [2018] you released your first album, "Amir." How do you remember the moment of releasing that first great work?
T. I was definitely nervous but at the same time, I was feeling like I had made something you really believe in and you are fully behind it. You feel that whatever happens to this, whatever opinions it can receive, this is what you wanted to make so it doesn't really matter. Well, it matters but at the same time it doesn't [laughs.] Let’s say hypothetically if I would have made an album that I wasn't proud of and I would release it feeling that it wasn't what I wanted to do, the bad opinions would have made me feel broken because I would be thinking "I knew it wasn’t good!" If I really like the work and someone doesn't like it it’s fine, I'm still going to like it. The curse of writing albums is that the moment you finish it a couple of months later you totally like hearing all the flaws and it’s very motivational because it drives you to start writing again and to try to make a follow-up with fewer flaws [laughs.]
"Right now I'm super focused on music, I really want to make a third album. I want to write a lot of songs in the next few months even though I know that's going to be super busy." - Tamino
J.M.S. But the reception of your album was really great!
T. I know [laughs.] But I can hear all the things I could have done better or just differently. One work drives the other.
J.M.S. In one of her songs, Spanish singer, Rosalia, mentions that fame is a bad lover. Nowadays, being famous entails enduring an intrusion into private life and overexposure to social media. How has your experience with fame been after gaining attention through your songs?
T. Fame is a very subjective term. In some sorts of bubbles, you can be famous, but in others, people don’t know you at all. Before social media, if you were famous, you were really famous. But now it’s like a big group of people know you but then a bigger group of people have never heard anything about you, so I wouldn't be able to call myself “famous.” I have experienced aspects of fame when I’m performing, because a lot of people who know my music have come together and maybe want to meet me in person after the show. And it can be overwhelming because suddenly there are a lot of people who have heard your music and want to express their love. But if I’m just walking on the street there are not enough people who really know me, rather it would be annoying. I feel really happy with my level of fame or whatever you want to call it, because it is really spread or very concentrated when I’m performing. Otherwise, I have a very normal life.
J.M.S. Look, I think if you have your own Wikipedia page, you're famous!
T. Oh, man! Then a lot of people can be considered famous! [laughs]
J.M.S. Singer, Lykke Li, declared that “sadness is a blessing.” Do you think that for artists it is totally true when it comes to finding inspiration?
T. Definitely. I've found many emotions inspirational. I guess sadness and joy are quite connected, they can’t be without each other. You can only be joyful because you know what sadness is like. The same thing goes for sadness. I like the yin-yang of that. That's basically everything. Everything comes down to that.
J.M.S. You say that you don’t like to explain your own songs, you prefer that everyone interprets them. So if we go by that idea there is not just one Tamino, but many versions of you for every person who listens to your songs, right?
T. Yes! I think people do that anyway. Life happens inside our consciousness so everyone has their own perspective. There are many versions of you because in everybody's mind you are somehow a bit different. There would never be one singular vision of a person.
J.M.S. This makes me think a bit about the mystery and how overexposed artists are today because of social media. You have managed to stay out of all that madness and remain very enigmatic. Do you think it’s important for an artist to be somehow untouchable and unreachable?
T. I do like some mystery [laughs.] In the first place as a fan of other artists I like it when they are not too revealing because I don’t want to know everything about them, I just want to experience their work. At the same time, I read for example a biography about Leonard Cohen because I was interested in his life. I do like some mystery and I think it is important for people to be able to experience the work as pure as possible.
J.M.S. After having listened to “Sahar,” I am left with the feeling that one of the main themes is loneliness. I would like to ask you, do you usually feel lonely or do you consider yourself a solitary person? Or otherwise, have you learned how to embrace loneliness and be comfortable with it?
T. Rather a solitary person than lonely. I don’t really feel lonely because I have really good friends. Loneliness is more about a state of being that you can feel from time to time and when you feel it you can dwell in it or call a friend and hang out. I do that when I feel lonely but I'm also very ok with being alone because it’s the only way I'm able to create. I’m an introvert so that’s where I get my energy, when I'm alone, I recharge my batteries.
J.M.S. One of my favorite songs on the album, “The Longing,” talks about letting go. Do you think you are someone who holds on to people or even memories or is it easy for you to let go?
T. I'm still figuring that out. I don’t know yet if I’m a super sentimental person who is very nostalgic and dwells in the past or someone who is quite always moving forward. Maybe I’m someone in between.
J.M.S. In “Sahar” through songs like “The First Disciple,” you talk about love and desire. At 25 years old, do you think our generation correctly understands what love is about?
T. I wouldn't be able to say what love is about, I don’t even know. That's a difficult question to answer. There is something about the whole dating app era that is a bit weird but at the same time, I have a lot of friends who found love, even myself. I would never say that we are a lost generation, we are very capable of love, finding it, and maintaining it. It just takes some work.
J.M.S. In both records, “Sahar” and “Amir,” you can perceive that the great influence of bands like Radiohead is prominent. Actually, a component of the band participated in a single of your first album, “Indigo Night.” I would like to know your personal and musical connection with the band led by Thom Yorke.
T. Colin Greenwood, the bassist of Radiohead, was the one who played with us in that song, then we started touring together a bit, and then I asked him to play again in the new album so he plays in seven songs! We spent a lot of time in the studio and we already did a big concert in Istanbul in June. He is super.
“I guess sadness and joy are quite connected, they can’t be without each other. You can only be joyful because you know what sadness is like. The same thing goes for sadness.” - Tamino
J.M.S. Ok, we spoke about music, your “personality” as an artist… Tell us more about who Tamino is.
T. Well I can tell you that my favorite movie is “Phantom Thread.”
J.M.S. That movie in which the fashion designer lets himself be poisoned by his girlfriend in a kind of psycho-emotional game?
T. Yes! Love that movie! When I was a kid my favorite movies were “The Lord of the Rings” and they still sort of are.
J.M.S. Love “Lord of the Rings”, so homoerotic!
T. Which character makes you think those movies are homoerotic?
J.M.S. Most of them. All those sweaty and dirty men sleeping together in those dark and mysterious forests with voyeuristic trees with eyes spying on them...
T. Maybe I should rewatch them!
J.M.S. And Frodo and Sam, of course! Something between them was going on!
T. Oh yes! I can understand that!
J.M.S. And favorite musician?
T. So many! Anouar Brahem’s “Blue Maqams” has really inspired me for this album. The typical ones I have mentioned so many times like Leonard Cohen and Bob Dylan, Fairuz... I think when I really like something I always go back to it, that’s probably something that is very present in my personality. I have loyalty to those kinds of things. I rarely have anything like this new thing that I’m super into. I like a lot of things but I don’t love a lot of things. If I love something, it is with me forever in a way. There are a couple of books and movies that I would always go back to and I probably always talk about.
J.M.S. Any TV shows?
T. “Better Call Saul!” Just brilliant!
J.M.S. Let's talk about fashion, an industry that has been seduced by you since we all got to discover your music. Some houses such as Missoni included you in their advertising campaign and many others requested your presence in their shows. What is the meaning of fashion for Tamino and how do you go through your style?
T. I like just wearing clothes that make me feel I would say “I like myself,” but it depends on the day. Sometimes I like to wear a suit, sometimes I like to wear a t-shirt. What I'm wearing needs to make me feel aligned with the mood I'm in because then I feel that my interactions with people are better. I think that wearing what makes you feel comfortable that day makes you more connected to yourself.
J.M.S. Do you pay attention to the clothes you wear?
T. I definitely pay attention to what I wear. I love well-made clothes and good fabrics and designs. I really appreciate the quality. There are some brands that I'm really into like Yohji Yamamoto.
J.M.S. Would you like to participate actively and frequently in the world of fashion?
T. It’s funny because it was never an ambition when I was younger. It was something that just happened. It’s super cool but I’m very sober in fashion. It’s not like I’ve ever had a deep desire to make it in fashion, if something comes along and feels right like I really want to do it, then for sure!
J.M.S. Now that you have a well-grounded career in music and the support of specialized critics and your fans, what is the next step for Tamino?
T. First, we have the tour coming so I hope I will be able to enjoy it more this time, to be more at the moment. Right now I’m super focused on music, I really want to make a third album. I want to write a lot of songs in the next few months even though I know that’s going to be super busy. I want to spend some time in New York or anywhere else that can feel inspired. It’s time for something new.
Grooming by BASTIEN ZORZETTO using REDKEN Set Designer PIERGIO GEREMIA Retoucher ALBERTO MARO Fashion Assistant MARTIN BARRÉ Special Thanks to JAOVEN RICOEUR, CLAUDIA MATE, ANDREW SMITH and EMMA BOESCH at VIRGIN RECORDS
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