#the reason they get along despite being so different is because they are the only ones who get each others weird behaviors

[gojoath]

ಣ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ TWO HALVES OF A WHOLE, OKKOTSU YŪTA

sometimes you swear you have two boyfriends, the one that loves you and the one that fucks you.

summary. fem reader. yandere yūta. obsession. manipulation. stalking. yandere themes. aged up characters. your boyfriends two personalities. toxic relationships. jealousy / possessiveness. wc, 2k.

note. repost :)

you swear you have two boyfriends, you must.. because this yuuta— the one that’s fucking you now, rutting you into the mattress with such carnal desire because he didn’t like the way that dude who served you both your coffee this morning was looking at you, is obscenely different to the one that still blushes when you answer his i love youwith a sweetened one of your own and a kiss.

“do you know him?” he’d asked as he took his seat across from you at the table, right after he’d chosen to pull out your own for you like the loving boyfriend he was. the perfect boyfriend. you want to ask who he’s talking about but you’d be an idiot not to know— you can basically feel the poor barista’s nerves from your table.

“he’s staring,” yuuta continues and you want to say that he’s staring as he holds his gaze, but you’re pretty sure he knows that already— the veins on his hands are prominent with how tightly he’s gripping the cup in his palms and you’re surprised it hasn’t smashed yet. it’s like the hostility is radiating off of him in waves despite the kindhearted smile he’s showing you.

“yuuta it’s fine,” you try to reason with him and it only makes him breathe out a soft chuckle before he’s taking a sip of his drink— the words seem to calm him, albeit temporarily as he shifts in his seat. “it’s customer service, he’s paid to be nice.” he offers the barista behind you another glance and then his eyes are back on you as he scratches cutely at the back of his neck.

“ah, i’m not worried.” yuuta’s tone is lighthearted, it’s sweet and soft in the way that you’re used to before both his hands are back on the table to clasp one of yours. his grip is a little too tight, but it’s nothing you’re not used to before his words taker a lower, deeper drawl. “because you’re all mine. right?”

two personalities wrapped up in one pretty boy, you think. but then your thoughts are cut off with the next languid roll of his hips as he deliberately slows his pace to a deep rock. you feel his fingers trace up your jaw before they’re pressing against your parted lips, prying them further open “open, baby.”

and you do, catching the glimmer of something twisted in his gaze at the way you listen so eagerly. your tongue swipes along his fingers before you watch a glob of spit drip slow from between his lips, making you moan when you feel the taste of him drench and ignite your taste buds.

“are you mine?” yuuta asks and the gentle, careful tone is such a contrast to the look in his eyes— it’s like a hunters gaze, rooting you in place, daring you to run— it’s like a promise that he’ll catch you even if you did.

“mhm, i’m yours, yuuta. please. only y-yours—ah.” his fingers press down on your tongue as he pushes them in a little more and you can feel the cool press of the promise ring on his finger. it’s one identical to yours. it’s the same one he’d gifted you six weeks into officially being your boyfriend after he’d assured you that time doesn’t matter, only your love for eachother does.

although if you asked him now, he still doesn’t think it’s enough to show the world you’re his. even though he’d prefer to keep you locked away with only him forever. you think it’s cute when he jokes like that.

it’s so twisted, maybe a little worrying for anyone else that you can’t help but like when yuuta gets like this. the way it makes you nervous again, butterflies in your gut like it’s the first time he’s been above you and suddenly you feel even warmer to touch. you feel shy despite the way he’s had you like this more times than you can count.

it’s lewd, animalistic but then you’ll get a peek of the other part of him when the next heavy rock of his hips is accompanied with a sweet, gentle kiss smeared across your forehead with his next breath as he pulls back his fingers from your mouth, weaving them with yours instead and squeezing tight.

“h-how, how does it feel?” yuuta’s words tremble with his next thrust as your pussy squeezes around him and your lips part to moan at the sweet question, body clenching and eyes fluttering closed as he grinds into your pussy. he’s rutting you into the mattress like a wild fucking animal before his blown gaze is scanning over you, drinking you up with a satisfied, adoring look.

“good, yuu~ s-so good!” he’s so pretty, fucking you so well you can barely find your words and it’s filthy the way he knows where to press, where to palm and kiss until you’re arching into him— like he’s studied the very way you play with your own pussy up close. like he’d torn you apart and put you back together himself.

he’s fucking you into a puddle of desire and need for only him.

you’re vaguely aware, although barely over the sounds of your own weak whimpers and long, needy moans, that he’s whispering under his breath, panting and growling softly.

“he probably wishes he could see you like this,” another slow rock of yuuta’s hips and he deliberately presses against that saccharine, sweet spot inside of your walls, making your thighs squeeze tight around his hips as he breathes deep.

“you’re pretty, so pretty,” you can’t help the physical reaction you have to his words, cunt clutching tight and your hips thrusting up to meet his own movements. you both gasp and his pace stutters but he continues. “but you’re mine, all of you.. it’s mine.” his words go buried in your skin— in your walls when they’re accompanied by a particularly sharp thrust. it’s like his love fills and swells within you in turn, until your lungs are tight, as if you can’t quite get enough air with each breath.

“i know, yuu~ i love you so much,” yuuta’s kisses smear over your cheek, hot breaths panting against your skin as he takes a pace that has your tits jolting with every clap of his hips into yours.

“s-say it again.” you hear him gulp on his next words and your pussy squeezes even tighter, “i need to know you mean it.” the soft slap of your pussy meets his pelvis and it makes your insides curl and ache, the feeling of his balls smacking your ass leaving you breathless with every connection.

“i love you,”

“show me.” you’re more than eager to give him when he asks you like that, hissed through clenched teeth and you whine long and wordless for him as bliss washes over you. you feel him tremble over you as you do, smearing messy kisses and spit over your cheek and neck— mumbling praises and i love yous against your jaw and lips as he looks at you.

you’re vaguely aware of how broken and weak your moans sound, but the rush in your head while you cum is a little too loud and delightful for you to really care about anything else except the man who made you feel exactly that. your thighs struggle to close, instinctively, as you shy away from the pleasure but yuuta shifts on purpose to keep them spread, his fingers withdrawing to rub softly through the swollen petals of your pussy so he can prolong your pliant state.

“i knew i didnt have anything to worry about,”

it doesn’t take long for him to follow after you. his cock flexes, thickening in a way that feels as if it grows with each greedy coax of your twitching cunt, until he pauses, followed by a breathier croon of your name as he spills hot inside you.

yuuta’s chest presses against yours, lips suckling into the crook of your neck, nails dragging gently down your hips as he presses his load into you until you whimper. you twitch and he uses the movement to hug you closer, stilling inside of you when he’s got his face buried into your shoulder and you both catch your breath.

you lie there for a long time, or so it feels until he’s leaving you quickly to grab you some water and a warm cloth. he returns in what feels like seconds, but now that you’re orgasm has finally worn off, you can barely look at him.

you’re not sure if it’s because of how hard and good he’s just made you cum or the pleasure he’d pulled from you so easily, leaving you in bite marks and bruises. but you feel so nervous suddenly as you twist nervously at the promise ring on your finger.

“are you okay?” yuuta asks quickly, a soft tone to his voice as the mattress dips when he sits next to you. he leans forward when he does, smearing a kiss against your cheek before he’s handing you the cool glass of water, which you take with shaking hands.

hes gorgeous, dark hair mused through the day from his hands gliding through it and now yours, falling forward around his face from being swept back to frame his flushed features now.

you meet his gaze and you’d think it burned you as you shy away, feeling heat creep to your cheeks when his fingers stroke gently at your arm. “i’m sorry, did i hurt you?” there’s a soft nervousness to his eyes despite his usual haunting gaze. he bites on his lower lip as he looks over you.

“ah.. sorry.” you try to keep your own bashfulness aside as you take a sip of water, letting it cool the scratchiness in your throat as you swallow.

“no, it’s..” he looks at you so intently, but there was always something in his gaze that made you feel cold despite the sweat across your body. but still you grin, before petting your hand across his.

“it’s cute seeing you all protective, that’s all.”

“is it weird?”

“no! not at all, it’s hot—“

“oh, ah— thanks.” he nods, a little shy and back to his kindhearted, sweet demeanour when you share a kiss, sighing with the content press of your bodies.

“did you know him?” yuuta kisses your forehead despite the way he presses the topic again. “i can find you another cafe if you want,” he breathes, another kiss to your skin following. he curls his arm around you as he looks over you and it’s with so much adoration that it makes your toes curl in the same way your body had a few minutes ago.

“maybe he’s new, i’ve never seen him. i like that cafe though.” you shrug, not seeing any real issue with it. but his dark eyes flash towards you and you giggle when he suddenly presses you down against the bed to kiss you passionately.

“i just don’t want anyone making you uncomfortable, i’ll kill them.” yuuta kisses you hungrily, making you sigh as you melt beneath him— you’re like gum, bending to his will with every flick of his tongue.

“i know, yuuta. you always joke about that. i still want to keep going to that cafe though,” his hand cups your cheek and you smile. he leans in to kiss you firmly with his next breath.

“we can go together. i don’t think we’ll see him again anyway.”

“what, why not?”

“because i want you to be happy.” your chest jumps when yuuta’s words urge you to curl closer— making something warm bloom in your chest at the love he makes you feel. you can feel him smile into the next kiss he smears along your temple, and he makes sure the kiss after is against the promise ring on your finger when he gives you another smile.

it’s hours later when yuuta leaves you, kissing your forehead before he’s slinging his katana over his shoulder and leaving you asleep. he’ll make it home before you realise he’s gone. the shift at the cafe is just finishing, and this won’t take long.

maybe his two personalities aren’t as far apart as he let you believe.

© gojoath. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

#cw yandere #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #okkotsu yuuta smut #okkotsu yuta smut #okkotsu yuta x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #okkotsu yuta x you #yuuta x reader #yuuta smut

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Giant! König Headcanons

Warnings: 18+, Creep! König, Perverted! König, König Owns a Cum Jar, Size Difference, Giant! König, Size Kink, Sadistic! König, Abuse of Power, Dub-Con, Cum Soaking, Attempts at Forced Impregnation, Implied Pregnancy, Voyeurism, Hostage Situation, Human Pet! Reader, Physical Violence, Human! Reader, Fem! Reader.

Giant! König captures you after he catches you sneaking around his castle, trying to loot something of value to take back to your impoverished village.

Giant! König immediately jumps at the opportunity to take you as his human pet, throwing you into a nearby jar and closing the lid, observing you like a spider beneath a glass.

Giant! König who, after deciding he wants to keep you long-term instead of turning your body into the sprinkles atop his ice cream, creates a more sustainable living space for you after discovering you’re not as durable as he thought (almost suffocating, dehydrating, and starving to death whilst being held in that damn jar).

Giant! König surprises you with a dollhouse of his own design: a door that locks from the outside, windows too small for you to crawl through, and walls made of a material too strong for your tiny utensils to burrow through.

Giant! König doesn’t take long to start using you for his own pleasure – almost like he has no other outlet; like he was just waiting for this opportunity to come.

Giant! König who, whenever he feels like punishing you, puts you in The Jar and stares you down whilst stroking his cock, gigantic even in comparison to other giants’. He grunts, berating you, telling you how he’d “Fill you with my cock if you weren’t so small – bet I could crush you with it if I wanted to.”

When he’s ready, he cums into the jar – all over you – thick and heavy, almost drowning you with just one spurt of his load.

He loves watching you struggle to keep your head above the viscous pool he’s trapped you in as you literally swim in his semen, looking up at him with pleading eyes, begging him to “Get me out, please!”.

He’ll often leave you in there without clothes to try and teach you a lesson. Until it turns into another reason – to breed you – which you accidentally sparked in him when you told him to be careful! You’ll end up getting me pregnant!

Giant! König can’t get your words out of his head, the primal urges he’s suppressed for so long unearthed by your pleas for him to spare you, if only once.

Giant! König knows he’s way too big to fit inside you, so this –  cumming profusely into a jar he’s encased you in whilst giving you no means of refusing his attempts – is the next best thing.

Giant! König gets off on the sheer size difference between the two of you  – the fact that you’re entirely dependent on him for your survival. Makes him feel like the kind of giant he’s supposed to be; strong and well-seeded.

Giant! König lays awake at night and fantasises about having a family, a far-off dream until you came along. It’s all he can think about as the image of you, his tiny wife, swollen to an almost painful degree as you bear his children, floods his mind, makes his cock twitch – harden. He resists the urge to relieve himself of this burden, preferring to save every ounce of his seed for you rather than wasting even a drop of it.

Giant! König who, despite his…questionable treatment of you, does try to treat you well. He lets you eat as much as you want, both because he knows you come from a poor background and because he has to keep you healthy to bear his offspring — especially since he knows they’ll be quite big compared to you.

Giant! König enjoys questioning you about your life before him, how humans work, what they do all day, whether the stereotypes of them all being lustful, pride-driven,  creatures are true.

If you validate any part of this stereotype, he’ll use that as an excuse to sink you in even more of his cum, to subject you to the task of sitting on his cock (horizontally, might I add) while he commands you to get yourself off by humping the shaft.

Man’s had no outlet for basicall all his life – he’s feral.

Giant! König loves to watch you while you’re tucked up in your dollhouse, observing everything you do. Humans are a rarity in the Giant Lands, so to have one in his home is a mythic occurrence.

Giant! König loves showing you off; he thrives on the reaction he gets when his friends see you. You’re, as stated before, a rarity in their parts, often used as a delicacy rather than a pet since humans aren’t particularly sturdy compared to giants, so managing to keep one alive is something of a status symbol in itself; the mark of a truly capable mate (hence captive humans are often given as courting gifts between giants).

However, König is also highly protective of you – especially after he caught Horangi (another giant he’d been showing you off to) goading you – harassing you – stroking his cock, telling you to “Lick the tip. Never felt a human tongue before.”

Needless to say, König never invited him around again after that.

Giant! König is, obviously, good with his hands and technical know-how. Thus, if his method of soaking you in his semen doesn’t work when trying to knock you up, he’ll create some unlawful contraption to make it inevitable.

Despite his size, König has managed to make a tiny glass syringe that he’s packed with his cum, holding you down easily with one hand as he presses the tip to your entrance, pumping you full of his seed.

He struggles to contain how the scene – the feeling – of you trying desperately to fight him off, to stop him from filling you, makes him feel. You have to watch the bulge between his legs grow as the feeling of being filled past full overcome you.

Giant! König does this as many times as he likes until he knows his seed’s taken, when you start showing. Which, considering how big his offspring will be, is pretty early on.

He definitely makes maternity clothes for you – comfortable garments that show the swell of your stomach as the weeks crawl by into months.

Giant! König loves bathing you, too. Especially after he’s covered you in his cum.

There’s something so intimate and gentle about it – a scarcity in the Giant Lands. Having something so small and fragile in his hands, knowing that he can crush you in his grip at any moment, makes him feel…responsible. Trustworthy.

Giant! König will never let you go, btw. You can try to run as much as you want, but he’ll always catch up to you, his human pet.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

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#cod #cod modern warfare #cod x reader #cod smut #mw2 #cod konig #konig x reader #konig x you #konig #konig x reader smut #konig smut #konig cod #konig call of duty #konig mw2 #konig x y/n #mw2 smut #mw2 x reader #mw2 x you #konig headcanons #cod x you

[falling-endlessly]

Boomerang (part 1)

Vox x Female!Ex!Overlord!Reader

Summary: When Vox proves incapable of cutting Valentino out of his sex life despite his many reassurances, you decide to break it off with him and leave for good. He doesn’t take it so well.

Just to be clear, reader is an artificial intelligence demon, looks super realistic and human-like, but is actually composed of nanotechnology. She was human once though, like all of the other sinners.

INSPIRED BY THIS POST

Part 2—> Chapter Index

"Y/n?" Charlie poked her head through your door. "There's uh, someone here to see you."

You narrowed your eyes, rising from your bed. A bone-weary sigh escaped you. It was obvious who your supposed "visitor" was. "Did you tell him I'm busy?"

Charlie pursed her lips, looking down. Great, so that meant he was throwing a temper tantrum. And she wanted you to sort him out.

"Alright, fine," you pinched the bridge of your nose. "I'm coming." She was generous enough to let you stay, after all. The least you could do was clean up your messes.

When you finally reached the main floor, Vox and Alastor looked about two seconds away from clawing each other's faces off. Cyan blue electricity was sparking along Vox's entire body, and Alastor's shadows curled dangerously behind him, ready to attack at his call.

Seeing him made a hot fury like no other claw its way up your throat. "What the fuck are you doing here?" You growled lowly, balling your fists at your sides.

At the sound of your voice, Vox immediately broke away from Alastor, a giant smile spreading across his screen. "Sweetheart! There you are!"

You stormed up to him, grabbing his wrist and pulling him harshly into a corner. You let go of him once you were sufficiently out of earshot of the others, crossing your arms and leveling him with a furious glare. "You have five seconds to explain yourself."

"Okay, let's just calm down for a second here," he chuckled, but it was an empty sound. "Is it really that weird for me to want to check up on you? After all, you kind of just disappeared," his smile strained.

"Has it ever occurred to you that the reason you couldn't find me was because I don't want to see you?" You smiled sardonically, patience running thin.

"Uh, what?" He laughed, but his smile was frozen. "Why would you not want to see me?"

That was the last fucking straw. "Are you that fucking delusional, Vox?" You snapped, poking him harshly in the chest. "When I said I was done, I meant it. This," you gestured between the two of you. "Is over. I'm done."

Vox twitched, electricity sparking off sporadically from his antennae. He stared at you in stunned silence, his breathing starting to pick up speed as he processed your words. His eyes searched your face for any sign that you were being untruthful, and when he found none, he glanced up at the small crowd of residents and staff gathered, only to lock eyes with a smug Alastor.

Vox's screen glitched, his features twisting in a rage. "So you're replacing me with the radio fucker now, is that it?"

"Oh, really?" You narrowed your eyes. "Just like you replaced me with Valentino?"

"That's different," Vox gritted out.

"Is it?"

"Yes, for one, Val isn't some archaic cannibalistic fucker with a vendetta against me!"

"Who has the vendetta against who here? Cause it seems like you're the one who can't let things go." You watched him splutter on his bullshit for a few seconds before you shook your head in exasperation, the pounding pressure increasing at your temples. "Alright, that's it, we're done here. Get out."

"Y/n," he narrowed his eyes. "You need to think about this."

"Oh I've had plenty of time to think," you grabbed his tie, pulling him closer to bare your teeth menacingly. "Now get out before I put a goddamn virus in your software Vox!" Your face pixelated from rage at the end of your sentence. You let him go with a harsh shove.

For a long moment nobody spoke, a tense silence blanketing over the two of you. You glared at him venomously, chest still heaving from your outburst. And him, he was looking at you like he'd never seen you before. Good, you thought spitefully. It's finally getting through to him.

Vox's mouth hardened into a thin line, his sharp claws nearly drawing blood from his palms. "Why here?"

You closed your eyes. "It’s not a forever thing. I just—I need to be away from everything for a little while, okay?" Everything that we've built together. Reminders of you. "No flashy shit, no fast life, no technology—"

"You're an A.I. model," he said dully.

"Yeah well, you win some you lose some," you sighed, rubbing at your temples. "Look, I don't want to say it again. Leave Vox, I'm serious."

For a hot second, it looked like you were ripping his entire world apart and stomping on the broken pieces, the way he looked at you so lost, before he hastily pulled himself back together. "Fine," he spat out. It sounded like it physically hurt him to say it.

He lifted his chin, adjusted his lapels, and stormed out of the hotel, slamming the door so hard it blew straight off of its hinges, blue sparks of electricity still sizzling from it.

For a few seconds, a thick tension suffocated the room, as everyone took the time to process the shit show they'd just witnessed.

"Well, that was fun!" Alastor's cheery voice punctuated the silence. You glared at him tiredly.

***

If you thought that he would give up like you so nicely asked, you were sadly mistaken.

Turned out it was just a pre-game warm up for this asshole.

At least thrice a week, he made sure to fuck up your peace somehow. Last time it was spray painting the entire hotel electric blue (how, you didn't even want to know). The time before that, it was trying to sneak some of his peeping gadgets in through the window. And the time before that, it was putting your name up on every billboard in the goddamn city with a red heart next to it.

Now, you stood incredulously in front of half of the hotel. As in, the other half was missing. Blown off by a fucking missile. You couldn't make this shit up if you tried.

"What the fuck is going on?" You gritted out, before taking a deep, calming breath.

Vox's electric laughter rang out from a speaker of unknown source. You turned angrily to face the open air.

"Pathetic," he jeered. "You still want to shack up with these losers, Y/n?"

You shook your head slowly, laughing in disbelief. "Wow," you said sarcastically. "You really showed us, didn't you? Feel better about yourself now?"

You punctuated your sentence with a glare, before turning and storming towards the remaining half of the building.

Vox watched you from twenty different angles across his screens. The moment you turned your back, his wide, toothy grin dropped, eyes squeezing shut. He slammed mute on his microphone.

“FUCK!” He banged a fist on the table, breathing heavily. It had been two weeks already, and you still hadn’t come back to him. He was getting desperate now.

A quick glance at the screen showed Alastor’s glitching picture. The radio bastard snapped his fingers with a raised brow, the missing half of the hotel repairing itself instantly.

“Fucking show off,” Vox growled raggedly.

He needed to change tactics. And fast.

***

Nothing. He had nothing.

No plans, no blueprints, no smart and suave moves to get you back.

Every scenario he ran through his head would inevitably end with you walking away from him. If only he could hypnotize you like with everyone else—but you were a tech demon, just like him. More advanced, even. Your firewalls were just too strong.

Vox poured himself another glass of scotch, solemnly glaring up at the ceiling in frustration.

A clawed hand clasped his shoulder, making him grit his teeth.

“You’re looking a little tense, Cariño,” Valentino purred, trailing his fingers up Vox’s neck. “I can help with that~”

Vox shrugged him off, annoyed. “Not in the mood, Val.”

But Valentino was undeterred. “Is this about Y/n?” He murmured, knowing he hit the nail on the head when the other demon tensed considerably. “What’s so special about that bitch anyway, hm? Is it the pussy? You know I’ve got whores lined up for you, baby. Just say the word and—”

“Fuck off, Val!” Vox exploded, electricity sparking in his eye. “I don’t want just any random bitch from the street, okay?! I want Y/n. I want her back,” he spat miserably.

Valentino went silent, his face twisting into a cruel expression. “Don’t you understand?” He growled. “She left you. Betrayed you. And she’s not coming back, ever. The sooner you see that and stop wasting your time, the better.”

He turned away, his heels clacking against the marble floors until the double doors swung closed behind him.

Vox let out a frustrated yell, arcs of electricity shooting out from him and shattering his expensive collection of drinking glasses to smithereens.

***

A tap sounded at your window, making you tense.

Slowly you approached it, generating a pistol from your nanotech and holding it tightly to your chest. You peered out of the blinds, only to find your ex dangling from the window sill.

“Holy shit!” You screeched, jumping back.

“A lil’ help?” he grinned lazily, reaching out for you. You grasped his hand, hauling him inside of your room.

The unmistakably pungent scent of alcohol invaded your senses, making your wrinkle your nose.

“Jesus fucking Christ, are you drunk?” You dragged a hand down your face.

“No,” he hiccuped, shaking his head vehemently, which caused him to lose balance. You grabbed his shoulders, righting him before he fell and broke his screen.

“Oh yeah,” his face lit up in realization, before he reached behind him, pulling out a bouquet of slightly squashed roses. “For you,” he slurred, offering them proudly.

You looked at them in exasperation, before taking them gently from his hands. Bringing them up to your face, you closed your eyes, sniffing them slightly. A sweet floral scent filled your senses as you regarded them.

“They’re pretty,” you remarked quietly.

“Yeah,” he grinned, your eyes flickering up to catch his. “But you’re prettier.” At your lack of reaction, his grin faltered, and he looked down.

“I…” he started, swaying slightly. “I’m sorry.”

You closed your eyes, shaking your head. “Don’t do this.”

“Please come home,” he continued, expression drooping sorrowfully. He clasped your hand, looking up at you pleadingly. “I’ll…I’ll do better, I promise.”

The ache in your heart grew almost unbearable the more you looked at him, so you averted your gaze. “Why don’t you ever say that when you’re sober?”

Vox let go of your hand, sliding down the wall until he landed on his ass. “Scared,” he mumbled.

You crouched down in front of him, lifting his hanging head from his arms. “Of what?” You said gently.

His eyes flickered up to yours, and the raw emotion nearly stole your breath away. “You still won’t want me.”

“Vox…” You closed your eyes, pained.

“Come home,” he whispered hollowly. “Please.”

“You know I can’t do that,” you said thickly, swallowing the lump in your throat.

He looked at you sadly, but resigned. “Yeah, I know,” he lowered his screen back into his arms. “…miss you,” he trailed off quietly, before soft whistling snores could be heard.

You dropped your face in your hands, breathing raggedly. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. You had almost fucking caved.

After a moment to compose yourself, you searched his pockets, pulling out his phone (he didn’t even change his password) and dialing a familiar number.

“What the fuck do you want now, Vox?” An irritated feminine voice answered the line.

“Velvette,” you said cooly. “I need a favor.”

****

Part 2 —> Chapter Index

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #vox #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #vox hazbin #vox x oc #vox x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel valentino #valentino #hazbin hotel velvette #velvette #charlie morningstar #alastor hazbin hotel #sad boi hours #jealousy #more jealousy #bad decisions #Reader needs a hug #seriously why was I so mean to them #hazbin fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin velvette #valentino hazbin hotel #valentino is an asshole #so is everyone in hell but fuck him in particular

[jungwondazed]

18+ only. / camping tent sex with jungwon

it was much chillier at night, a gentle sprinkle hitting the plastic lining of your camp tent. a few days ago jungwon urged you to come along the camping trip with him and his other friends, telling you how much you needed a break from studying all the time. with much effort he convinced you to tag along, promising you how he would take care of you the entire time, despite your worries because you’ve never been camping before. 

the group was divided into six different tents in a small camping ground just nearby the forrest, you and jungwon were luckily able to get your own. the space was extremely tight, no extra room for anything but two bodies and a small side table for a lamp and belongings. 

the day was a very long one. you had no problem with nature, in the sense that flowers are pretty and sure maybe you’d dip your feet into a pond every once in awhile but in a boy’s world, camping was a whole different thing of it’s own. for the most part, you stayed by jungwon’s side to which he was kindly receptive about. he was extraordinarily cute out in the wild, with his gear and backpack, throwing his head back to laugh every time one of his friends cracked a joke. it was fun observing just how men acted around each other, something you couldn’t handle for any longer than a week even if you were paid to. but jungwon was having the time of his life, and you enjoyed just being there with him. however, you felt like you didn’t contribute much, feeling a bit like a burden as you didn’t do anything but stand beside him. was it also wrong of you to slightly miss him? sure he was next to you all day, but not being able to talk a lot even with his presence made it harder. 

with that last thought, the tiredness from the day finally took over and you were seconds away from sleep, before jungwon’s body scooted closer towards you. too exhausted to do anything about it, you kept your eyes closed and in response he pressed his body against yours, wrapping his arm around your waist in the sleeping bag you both shared. 

“mmm?” he breathes out. you can feel that small smile anywhere. “my baby’s asleep isn’t she?” 

you feel the tip of his nose rub your cheek, before his lips pressed gentle kisses on your chin. finally, some undivided attention from him. 

“you’re not upset are you baby? i noticed you were a bit quiet before settling in to sleep. i missed you so much too, you know.” his arm wrapped around your abdomen shifts so that his hand can touch you a bit more. his fingers ghost right under your sleep shirt, and you question if the chill you feel is from his touch or the sudden rush of wind on the outside. 

he makes his presence much more apparent when he brings one leg over you, almost on top of you at this point. jungwon’s kisses grow wet and intimate, the pecks are deep and sloppy, and you hear the tiniest bit of desperation behind them. 

“wanted you with me all day for a reason, ____. if you weren’t by my side i think i may have gone crazy.” 

his hands dip under your shirt entirely, the callouses on his hands from today’s activites are rough on your skin. he rubs you from the sides of your waist to your navel, and gently to the underside of your breast, hesitating a bit as his breathing speeds up. 

he pulls back from touching you there, before doing something that makes your breath hitch immediately. jungwon lifts himself to be completely crouched over you, both his hands pulling your shirt up to cover just your chest. you feel his face inches away from your abdomen by his breath on your skin, and he licks a stripe right at the midline. he kisses your entire stomach, moaning into it, whispering things you can’t quite make out. your stomach caves in at the sensitive sensation, and a whimper escapes your lips. you feel him chuckle right at your waist, satisfied that you’re giving him a reaction. he circles his tongue at the side of your stomach, sucking on the lower side of your rib cage, not caring how eager he really looks. he continues making out with your entire front side because not only did it make you feel good, but he missed you desperately too. 

your stomach was entirely wet, although you didn’t mind. a few seconds pass before you notice a pause in jungwon’s movements. you open your eyes a bit to see him lost in thought, calculation in his eyes as he glowers at the way your panties reveal a bit under your sleep pajamas. you look away, red in the face at the arousal in his stare. you’ll never get used to how much his demeanor changes when he’s turned on. 

his fingers creep at your sides, hooking themselves onto your pajamas and pulling them all the way down. you open your eyes, shaking your head at jungwon and trying to reach for them to dress yourself again. 

“there’s people around us,” you hush out in a single breath and he pushes you gently back down, giving you a serious look and you back down immediately.

despite the demeanor, his movements are gentle, slowly prying your legs apart as he lays himself between them. his face is directly in front of your cunt, and he snickers at the wet spot that formed on your panties. you’re mortified, to say the least, but jungwon looks up at you, the slightest smirk on his face that you would’ve missed if not for the small lamp.

he presses his fingers firmly on your damp panties and you bring your hand to your face to hold back a moan. he’s a bit cruel with his foreplay, not immediately going in stick his tongue in you, jungwon takes everything slowly because he likes making you gradually lose it. he rubs you right there, fingers circling you through that thin cloth, and you’re sure your slick is soaking every string of fabric. jungwon watches intensely at the way your legs are scrambling everywhere, stomach heaving in and out at the mere stimulation of his fingers. 

he inches his face closer to you, sticking out his tongue just slightly and pressing it firmly against that same wet spot. 

“wonnie, please no” you whine out and he fucks his tongue over your panties, lapping at your clit, and slowly losing your own mind. 

he pulls your shirt up to your mouth, signaling you to bite down on it, making you feel a bit pathetic and inferior. he enjoys that though, and he continues licking your pussy.

“you like this don’t you?” you feel his teeth grazing on your panties and your abdomen buckles immediately, a small fang hitting your clit and you swear if it wasn’t for the fabric you may have came all over him. he furthers it by slightly biting your clit ever so gently, it all makes you want to do nothing more but push his head deep inside you, needing his tongue in all your holes if this is the game he wants to play. 

“what if i stopped just like this? hmm? is this enough for you?” his face pulls away, halfway getting up before you pull at his arm to stay there. his bottom lip releases from the tugging of his teeth, his jaw dropping a bit at how eager you look. jungwon has a thing for making you beg, pushing you to ask him for what you need. he likes to see and hear your desires, especially if it makes you look the way you do now. 

you shake your head with tears forming in your eyes. he wouldn’t be as cruel as this would he? you want him on you again, you wanna feel all of him inside you, really. instead of lowering himself down to tease you there again, he creeps up at you, a dark sensation in his eyes as he’s beyond turned on. he eyes your body the whole way up, before he’s right in front of your face, leaning down to kiss you deep. you love when jungwon gets like this. he’s all about teasing you to get desperate but what about him? does he ever realize how needy he looks? with the way his tongue is deep inside your mouth, you’re at ease knowing he’ll always need it just as much as you do. 

“you heard everything i said earlier, didn’t you? i missed you baby.” you nod, bringing your two hands to cup his pretty face. you heard all of him. 

“i wanna give it all to you right now, but you have to be quiet okay? kiss me whenever you can’t take it.” and you almost fall apart at his demand, jungwon and his filthy ideas that force you to be silent and secretive. curse the way you both were in the middle of a public camping ground and not the comfort of your own home.

he gets up on his knees, pulling his bottoms and boxers off, and you whimper at how big he’s gotten. his cock hits his abdomen once he pulls it out, his tip glistening a bit with him pre-cum. it’s bulging and you wanna do nothing but suck on it, teasing him like he did to you earlier. he smirks once he realizes you staring, lowering down to kiss you once more before he pulls the front of the sleeping bag so that it drapes his broad shoulders, covering the both of you completely.  

you reach up to touch him through his shirt that he still kept on, wanting nothing more than to see him in his entirety. you grip at his shoulders, feeling how fit he’s always been. 

he pumps himself a few times, clear fluid leaking down on your stomach and you gasp at how he’s already making a mess, not even inside you yet. his eyes close and bites his lip at the feeling of him stroking himself, and a small bit of jealousy bubbles in your chest wishing he was getting off by using you. but god, you can’t deny how good he looks right now. stroking his dick above you like he was about to finish all over your stomach when in reality he hasn’t even begun to fuck you. 

you pull your panties down since he didn’t earlier, and he opens his eyes to lazily chuckle at you, making you blush. he kisses you on the lips again, his cock laying right on your stomach. you think you gushed a bit just at that feeling, your patience quickly thinning out.

with his mouth still pressed against yours, he lines his tip to run it up and down your clit. you moanly loudly and he bites down to gently shut you up. jungwon and his fucking teasing, you’re on a thin line, just a few more minutes and you don’t care what anyone sees or hears, you’ll climb on him immediately if you have to. 

his tip strokes your clit over and over, your hole clenching around nothing as he stimulates you this way. it fits so perfectly between your folds, and you force back a whine. jungwon’s not too quiet himself as you feel him pant against you, his tip as sensitive as ever. he presses the entire backside of his cock to stroke between your folds, still not entering your hole yet. he humps your pussy this way, and you wraps your arms around his neck to taste his lips again. 

he can barely kiss you back. always pushing you to the brink, never realizing how he can barely hold on too. 

“please, just please” you whimper out, begging for anything in you at this point. 

it’s minutes later before he finally reaches down to grab himself, lining to fit right into your hole. he groans immediately once his tip is inside, you moaning alongside him.

“fuck me already fucking please,” you’re desperate, too turned on to worry about anything. he brings his arms behind your head so that you rest on them, holding himself up with his forearms. 

“wrap your legs around me” he demands and you do just that, realizing what this angle does to you, but it excites you nonetheless. 

after a few more strokes with his tip he deepens himself, stretching you out further to which you can’t recall a time it ever feeling better than this. he’s big inside you, his thrusting steady. you kiss him as you can’t find a will in yourself to be quiet, hoping his lips can silence you as much as possible. 

jungwon finally bottoms out, so deep both of your chests touch each other for a minute as he rests there, letting himself twitch inside you. your walls warm the throbbing of his penis, which makes him struggle to immediately start thrusting. his moans are a bit whinier, still deep but there’s a soft desperation there that leads you to believe how much he needs it now. 

he finally pulls back and pounds hard inside you, your whole body shaking. usually, this would have made you cry out but jungwon taking his time to warm you up, he could do anything and you’d probably take it a bit too well. he fucks himself in and out, still cradling your head, kissing your forehead in adoration of his girl. he loves you so much, you feel it in the way he keeps his hold around you soft.

you like when jungwon fucks you at a pace that he maintains, laying there and letting himself thrust in and out for minutes so long, doing nothing but mewing and whining at how good it feels. tears brim your eyes as you feel yourself getting closer, while simultaneously hoping this never ends. 

“could fuck you all night,” 

you nod at his confession, genuinely believing him. you love how he never stops pumping in and out of you, his stamina so consistent there isn’t a doubt in your head that this could keep up for hours. 

you don’t realize how jungwon meant what he said in this situation, because throughout the night he brings you both right to the edge before pulling himself all the way out for a few seconds just to thrust inside you all over again. you ask him why he won’t let you cum over and over, promising that you can handle it instead of being edged this way. he whispers how he doesn’t believe you, that he’ll only allow that after he sees how well you behave when you do cum.

with the countless edging, it gets to the point where even jungwon doesn’t know when it’s time to cum, he edges until he absolutely can’t anymore. there’s been multiple instances where he’s so close his mind forgets the entire game he’s going at, speeding up because he’s so ready to spill himself in you. however, you can always tell when he’s given up on the edging, his breathing and whines gets very evident. he fucks fast, hitting a spot so good you couldn’t force him to edge you again even if you wanted that. you beg him for your release in the minutes of him finally giving in, and you could cry at the orgasm that builds up. 

“i love you so much, ____” he weakly moans, kissing you in the places he can as he’s far too gone to be precise. 

“i love you, wonnie, love you so much” you reach up at his face, feeling his warm skin. 

he looks down at the way he’s entering you, his final strokes sloppy as he cums deep inside you, the semen releasing as the base of his cock hits your clit. he groans so deep and he thrusts a few times more to which you cum right with him, moaning in his mouth and digging your heels deep in his lower back. you’re both completely on each other, holding each other so tight the only friction being him stroking in your walls. he continues moving in and out of you, dragging out your orgasm for as long as possible. it feels good beyond words, for a split second you think about whether you would wanna suggest a round two, but the thought goes away when he pulls himself out, his seed pouring out of you and the exhaustion hitting you once again. 

he lays on you for a minute before rolling right by your side, pulling your body against his and burying his face inside you inner neck. both of your eyes are closed, the after feeling of sex resonating between your bodies. 

was this something jungwon was thinking about doing to you all day? or did he only feel up for it once he saw how down you were? you recall back to the many times jungwon has comforted you this way, blushing at how good he always makes you feel. 

“feeling any better?” he starts, “i don’t like my girl going to sleep upset.” his lashes brush your skin as he lazily kisses your shoulder. his aftercare is always so sweet, reassuring you that he still loves and adores your body even after he had his way with it. jungwon keeps you close after sex, you used to think that this was to make you feel better but his care is so sincere you wouldn’t doubt if he did it for his own needs too. 

you smile, turning your head around to slightly look at him. he always looks his best after cumming. 

“i was never upset” 

#enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #enha smut #jungwon hard hours #jungwon hard thoughts #jungwon smut #jungwondazedjungwon

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Animal Farm

Male Yandere Farm Harem x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Noncon, brief mention of cockwarming, brief mention of scenting, cum milking, yandere farm hybrids, detained reader, breeding kink, harpies, bull men, centaurs, dog men, cat men) Word Count: 860 (Was chatting with a friend about how I had a farmer/gardener hat and how I just need overalls, a white bandana, and a pink shirt and I will look like a professional trans monsterfucking rancher, this short fic is the result of that discussion, I hope it will eventually serve as a source of asks in the future. I know it is brief, but I loved writing this.)

(Monster Farm: Mondays, the mini-fic involving the harpies, can be found HERE.) (Monster Farm: Tuesdays, the mini-fic involving the dog-men, can be found HERE.) (Monster Farm: Wednesdays, the mini-fic involving the centaurs, can be found HERE.)

 When you had first taken the leap to add monster ranching to your farm you were unsure if it would be a profitable venture, there were not many such places where you lived, but you did not know if demand would be high for unorthodox products such as monster semen.  You started off with just one centaur, he produced huge quantities of cum from milking him twice a day, and it sold so well that you were soon able to add yet another centaur.  Two was plenty to keep fulfilling the centaur semen needs of your small community so once you had enough funds you invested in three harpy men that laid a ton of eggs, despite being males, and they also produced some extra ball batter for you to peddle as well.  Now you were making money from your usual crops, harpy cum and eggs, which were highly prized, and centaur cum. In almost no time at all you were ready to add yet more monster men to your growing ranch.  Three large bull men now called your little slice of paradise home, their jizz was similar to the centaurs, but the flavor was quite a bit different and used differently in recipes. It also had a slightly different use in folk medicine as well.  Milking and feeding all the monster men on your ranch was hard work but very profitable, but soon you noticed that eggs were being stolen and you eventually caught the culprits drinking from your centaurs early one morning.  Two cat men desperate for food. You adopted them and used them for pest control around the crops and provided them with food and shelter in their own stable. You also added their cum to your product list.  To make sure you did not have any more thieves though, and possibly more dangerous intruders, you got three dog men who patrolled your property in shifts, all they needed to keep them happy were some holes to breed and you, and the cat boys who were constantly in heat, were happy to provide them with a place to dump their seed.  Now you had cat, dog, bird, bull, and horse hybrids on your property as well as many exotic crops which you had learned responded really well to having monster cum mixed into the compost. Your business was BOOMING, it was perfect. The monster men all got along with one another for the most part, and they were all extra sweet to you, the brawny bull hybrids even helped you plant and harvest your fruits and vegetables.  It was a great life, for a while.

 But you grew so many things and sold so much monster cum that you were gone off at the market far too often for your monster’s taste. They convened and decided that the proper place for you was with them, at the farm where you had an entire harem of mighty beast men to look out for you.  After they decide this they confront you when you get back from the market. You try to reason with them but they are all very adamant, you will be their little mate that they kept close and safe and that was simply all there was to it. They could milk themselves and the centaurs and bull men could easily haul the cart to market and one of the cat men could deal with customers because they were so sweet and charismatic.  There was only one problem, who would get to spend time with you?  They made up a strict schedule to avoid any fighting. On Mondays you would spend your time with the harpy men, who greatly enjoyed tweeting and singing to you when they were not busy breeding with you.  On Tuesdays you were property of the dog men, who always left you smelly and covered in their musk and cum.  Wednesdays meant you belonged to the centaurs, they liked to run around with you riding them while wrapping your little human arms around their muscular torsos, and they also adored using you as a cock sleeve, bulging your tummy out as they bred you.  Thursdays you belonged to the felines. They were normally bottoms for the dog men, but they still greatly enjoyed using you as a cumdump. When they finished mating with their beloved human they became the cuddliest of all the hybrids, purring and nuzzling and sleeping all snuggled up with you.  Fridays you were with the three bull men, which meant that you spent damn near the entire day being used as a cock warmer that was swapped between three equally well hung dicks. When they weren't having you sit on them, and oftentimes while they were, they were grooming and licking you, feeding you, and in general babying their sweet owner.  Saturdays and Sundays you were allowed to rest, and you needed it. But you never had anywhere near enough energy to even attempt an escape, and even if you did the dogs would just sniff you out. So you had had to accept your imprisonment at the hands of the monster men you supposedly owned.  

#yandere teratophilia #yandere terato #yandere monster men #yandere farm #yandere harpies #yandere bull men #yandere centaurs #yandere cat men #yandere dog men #yandere harpy #yandere bull man #yandere centaur #yandere cat man #yandere dog man #farm harem #monster farm harem #yandere monster farm harem

[mikrokcsmos]

That That (I Like That)

synopsis; in which your boyfriend’s loud moans and groans wake you up from your sleep at 4 in the morning and you’re about ready to throw hands — and so is he, but for completely different reasons.

pairing; vlive!jungkook x girlfriend!reader

genre; twinge of angst, mainly fluff and humor, Weverse live au

rating; PG-13

warnings; the word damn (x2) and suggestive dialogue/themes, just boyfriend koo in all his glory tbh

w/c; 1,283

a/n; don’t mind the poor excuse of a banner I tried to make on my own. shout out to @sftk0o for the perfect icons 💕

You tried to ignore it, you really did; believing the first loud moan you heard was a part of the not so innocent dream you found yourself in that involved your boyfriend only moments ago. Eyelids closing as you relaxed your body once more, head snuggling back into your pillow to begin the descent back into said racy dreamland — only for it to be interrupted by a loud distanced slam, your body tensing in fear, heart racing.

“DAMN.” He grunted, no – moaned out loud, you picturing his face instantly – brows pinched in concentration and nose scrunched cutely, bottom lip sucked in between his teeth. Can almost hear the low whine in your head that he always does just as he finishes—

Hands immediately searched the bed next to you for a warmth that was non-existent, all that greeted you being the cold fabric of the sheets that have been pulled back for quite some time it seemed. Another loud slam, accompanied by the same noticeable whine following not even a second later has you pushing yourself out of the bed, but this time not in fear, no.

This time it was because of pure and unadulterated anger.

Running on pure adrenaline, head in a fog and mind racing with worst case scenarios to what you’re about to witness has your bare feet bringing you closer and closer to where the noise continues to resonate from — the kitchen.

Just as you’re about to turn the corner, you freeze, hand on wall, a drawn out ‘damn’ piercing your ears that has your eyes welling with bitter tears on the verge of falling. Nails digging into the white of the wall, you push off, utilizing the momentum to push you the rest of the way into the kitchen and in full view of the sight in front of you.

Your voice dies in your throat, before it reaches your mouth, and you remain silent.

Jungkook has his head face down into the edge of the table, fists clenched on either side as his arms flex from the action. Quietly, you edge forward towards his hunched over form, eyes scanning the room around you for any other human other than yourself, and your body sags in relief as you start to piece together the cause of the grunts, moans, and curses.

Food. Fucking food. You should’ve known.

The aroma fills your nostrils, causing your own mouth to salivate and you weren’t even hungry. The smell of freshly sautéd chicken, scallions, and melted cheese wafts in the air along with the nutty flavors of sesame oil from the large skillet that still sits on the burner of the stove built into the table, most of its contents long gone. A bowl of microwaveable white rice sits next to a clenched fist, the other one now raised in the air as if preparing to strike someone, a spoon nestled in the last remnants.

Jungkook, still high off his food induced fever, pushes himself up to immediately unleash the finger guns of a choreo you know all too well at this point, his hips thrusting in time to the tune you have no doubt is engrained in his brain at this point as well as yours.

Despite your best efforts to remain as quiet as possible, you not missing the way his phone is suspiciously propped up against a stack of cookbooks neither of you have bothered opening yet that lets you know he’s currently live on Weverse, a puff of laughter from your lips causes him to pause mid hip thrust, wide doe eyes landing on your amused figure.

“The food was that good, hm?”

A sheepish, guilty grin is all you get in reply, his feet moving him towards you. When he’s close enough, his head dips down to brush a chaste kiss on your lips.

“Did I wake you?” He quietly questions, brows furrowed in worry when he notices the red that is prominent along your eye line. “Did you have a bad dream? Were you crying?”

The questions are in rapid succession, and you have to place the palms of your hands against his lightly stubbled chin, pressing his cheeks together and making his lips pucker at you like a fish to get him to stop talking long enough for you to explain.

“Your wanton moans are what woke me up, made me think that there was—,” you trail off, voice barely a whisper. “—other activities taking place in here that didn’t involve eating food.”

The sharp intake of breath he does let’s you know he understands the hidden meaning behind your words, his hands coming up to pull yours off of his face, and bring your body flush against his. A frown is now prominent on his usually smiling lips.

“Baby, I hope you know I would never cheat on you. Especially not in our house, and in our kitchen. This—,” his large hands trail down your sides, leaving nothing but warmth in their wake. “—is all I’ll ever want or need. You are it for me, jagi.”

A heat makes it’s way up your neck and to your cheeks, his words warming your heart and the inner guilt that festers within you unraveling.

As you stare into his brown eyes, you see nothing but truth and love, nothing but future and promise.

“I know. Im sorry for even allowing the thought to cross my mind. It was stupid of me to think. Besides, I don’t think I have to worry about any person stealing you away from me.” Your fingers interlock behind his neck, arms hanging loosely around his neck. “Food on the other hand? Now that’s what I should be concerned of. That chicken had you making noises I only ever heard you make in the bedroom.”

His head drops into the crook of your neck as he lets out an embarrassed whine, warm breath and lips that brush against your collarbone making goosebumps erupt on your skin and you shiver. His arms circle your waist in a vice grip as his upper body relaxes against your shorter one.

“Sleepy, baby?”

“Mhm. ‘m tired.” He mumbles into your skin sleepily, voice laced with a newfound exhaustion due to his full and satiated belly.

“Let’s go to bed, yeah?”

“Yep, just gotta turn the live off first.”

“Jeon Jungkook, you and your random late night lives will literally be the death of you.”

He reluctantly straightens up, arms leaving your body to stretch up into the air above his head as he lets out a loud yawn.

“No, they won’t, baby.”

“Need I remind you of the candle incident?”

Eyes squinting at you, tongue in cheek, he remains silent and you know you’ve won this round.

“I’ll be waiting in bed, don’t take too long, okay?”

You take a step back as he takes a step forward, lips chasing yours for a quick, yet equally as lingering kiss that makes your breath catch in your lungs. Noses touching, he whispers so only you can hear.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, and your foodgasms.”

You snicker and turn to make a fast getaway, his fingertips only having enough time to graze the swole of your ass as you skip away from him and disappear around the corner until you’re out of sight.

It only takes five minutes for his sock clad feet to slide into the entrance of your room, and two seconds for his body to land on yours as you erupt into a fit of laughter on your shared bed that turns into soft sighs, grunts and moans that you know is because of you this time.

#jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook #bts jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook #vlive!jungkook #weverse live #weverse!jungkook

[starsxblazing]

Hi! Could I request Azriel who’s mated to the youngest Archeron sister who loves their human traditions. Az finds her celebrating alone despite a whole party being set up, and learns she feels forced to attend solstice or starfall, maybe Rhys even scares her into it a bit, but when she worked hard to set up parties on human holidays, but her sisters always choose starfall? And she feels they force her to adapt to fae traditions while not even her sisters, let alone the others, even acknowledge human holidays, even though feyre said she considers both worlds her home. One that ends in a confrontation with angst would be nice, but happy ending or not is up to you, thanks.

I could have made a small series out of this ask and I really and truly enjoyed writing it. I had intended on a happy ending but this is pushing 5k words and would have taken a lot more for it. I hope it was along the lines of what you wanted!

---

Cause and Effect

From the moment that you were shoved in the cauldron, your life had changed to the point that you weren’t sure what to do. It had hurt that your own sister hadn’t bothered to stop what had happened to you, Nesta, and Elain but you understood since her friend was injured. Being the youngest of all of the Archeron sisters meant that you were always looked over. Nesta had always been worried about Elain and even though you were only a year younger than Feyre, it never made any difference. 

You had always felt horrible that Feyre was the one responsible for keeping all of you fed but your sister refused to let you go with her when she hunted. There had always been an urge to help and try to make things better but as always, you were shoved to the back burner. Most human holidays were forgotten but for some reason, you remembered one in particular. No matter the fact that you tried each year to celebrate it, you were either scoffed at or told that it didn’t matter.

It was something that you held close to your heart because it brought you joy and you wanted it to do the same for your father and sisters. You were different from them in the sense that you wanted to do nothing but spread love and joy but everyone around you was too miserable to care. 

The fae had their own traditions in separate courts you had learned but that piece of you that loved your holiday felt as if it were slowly dying. It had hurt your heart to see Feyre go back to the original court that she had once wanted to go to but you stayed silent and a few feet away from your other two older sisters. Mor had all three of you in an instant as soon as she was able to and took the three of you to a home that you were unfamiliar with.

Your thoughts would linger on the injured males that had been bleeding out in Hybern’s castle as you moved between Nesta and Elain so that you weren’t alone for the three hours that passed. Neither paid you any attention which only added to the hurt. It had been a traumatizing situation for the three of you and you were all trying to cope in your own ways. It didn’t stop the fact that you wished someone would pay you some attention for once in your life. 

Mor had come back to check on all of you after a few hours and she had been the first one in years to show you some genuine kindness. She led you to a room that you would be able to call your own so that you could find your own way to cope. Once she left, giving you a small smile before she did so, you took a moment to admire where you were. The room was huge considering what you had been used to with the bed being just as big. The balcony was what caught your attention the most and you knew that you would spend the most of your time there.

You found yourself enamored with the house that you learned was called the House of Wind. Mor had been the only one that had visited over the course of two days and you reveled in the attention that you were getting, even if it wasn’t a lot. On the third day, one of the males that had been injured returned to the House to see how the three of you were doing. You were instantly entranced with how handsome that he was, especially when he gave you a gentle smile. His eyes went wide when you smiled brightly at him and he stumbled a step as if he were in shock.

**

Azriel had been concerned about the three of his High Lady’s sisters so as soon as he was healed, he made his way up to the House. Only the youngest of the sisters could be seen since she had just finished eating. As soon as their eyes met, he was unable to resist the small smile that he had given you. It wasn’t until you gave him a genuine smile that shock overtook him. The warmth of a golden thread spread through him and it was all that he could do to regain his composure.

“How are you doing?” he asked in a gentle voice as he restrained himself from touching you. 

“I’m still trying to adjust and learn what all of this means,” you answered honestly as you looked around the dining room. “It’s sort of disorienting.”

“I can only imagine.” You gave him another bright smile at his words when your attention turned back to him. “I have faith in you though.”

A small smile replaced your bright, genuine one and he wanted nothing more than to make it return even though he wasn’t sure how. The only thing that he knew was that you were his mate and he wanted to follow you around like a love-sick puppy. Throughout his eleven years of living in a cell, all that he dreamed about was having someone that loved him unconditionally and to love them in return. Even though he knew that mating bonds didn’t always work out, your smile that seemed to show a genuine kind heart had him hoping that it wouldn’t be the case. When a slight frown formed on his face was when your entire mood visibly shifted and it was all that he could feel in the air around the two of you.

“I never saw you when we went to visit your sisters,” he mused quietly, realizing also that you had never been mentioned.

“I was in my room. I didn’t- ” you sighed, your eyes glossing over in the process. “Nevermind. It’s not important.”

“I think it is.” He did his best to keep the curiosity and the hint of anger from his tone. “You shouldn’t have been excluded.”

“It was my choice.” You gave him a sad smile while his heart hurt at your tear lined eyes. “I wasn't.. It’s not really worth sharing.”

“I think-”

“What are you doing?”

Nesta’s voice from the doorway had the both of you turning to look at her, her face etched into pure anger. It had you stiffening up in front of him and it had him rising to his full height while his wings tried to flare in his protective state for you. Your older sister did nothing but continue to glare at the both of you before you sighed quietly while hanging your head and shaking it slightly.

“We were just tal-”

“You don’t need to talk to her,” Nesta snapped. “She has us. Stay away from her.”

You glanced back at him with apologetic eyes before walking away from him but he noticed that you went in a completely different direction than your sister did. He almost followed you but decided against it in hopes that it would help you cope a bit better.

**

“Good morning,” you mumbled sleepily, still in your pajamas, when you entered the dining room with the male from the day before and Mor sitting at the table.

“Good morning,” Mor replied with a small smile. “We weren’t expecting you to be up so early.”

“I do rise early sometimes,” you chuckled as you took a seat beside her with the male sitting across from you. “But everything.. It’s hard to sleep now.”

“That’s completely understandable.” Mor rubbed your arm for a moment in a comforting manner. “We’re glad that you are out here with us.”

You gave her a small but sad smile, unsure of what to say. It was obvious that none of them knew about you and even though it hurt, you did your best not to show it. Feyre had mentioned to you once that the food here was delicious and now that you had a taste, you weren’t sure if you could ever go back to normal human food. The thought had you returning to the day that you had been forced into the cauldron and realized that you didn’t know anyone’s name and most importantly, how they all were doing after injuries.

“You were hurt.” You locked eyes with the hazel ones across from you. “And your friend-”

“We’re alright,” he assured, causing you to slump in relief into your seat. “Cassian’s wings are healing as we speak.”

“I’m so glad.” You gave him a bright smile before gazing at his wings momentarily. “I can’t imagine how much pain that you were in. I feel horrible that I didn’t even think to ask you last night.”

“It’s okay.” He gave you another genuine, small smile that earned a near silent gasp from the female beside her. “You have been through more than any of us can imagine.”

“I don’t even know your names,” you mumbled, choosing to ignore his reassurance since you were trying to avoid the thoughts of your own.

“You’ve met Mor.” He gestured towards the female beside you who simply rolled her eyes. “Cassian, as I said, was the one that was injured as well and Rhysand is our High Lord of the Night Court.”

“Oh.” It was hard to keep your mind from the horrible memories, the thoughts making your heart hurt even more now that you knew their names. “Have you heard from Feyre?”

“She will be alright and will be back as soon as she can,” Mor answered confidently. 

Your sister had obviously thrived since she had become High Fae and you couldn’t help but wonder if you or your other sisters would be able to do it as well even though you didn’t have much of a choice. A part of you wanted to adjust but at the same time, you were terrified of the life that you had been forced into. You were at least trying to be friendly even though Elain still refused to speak and Nesta was being her usual angry self.

You weren’t sure how to feel with everything that was going on around you but your mind began to drift back to your human life. Your favorite holiday would be arriving in a few months and you hoped that it would be something that would be accepted for the first time. Remembering that you didn’t know the male’s name, you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Are you stingy with your name?” 

“No,” he chuckled, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I’m Azriel.”

“Azriel,” you repeated, finding that you liked how it rolled so simply off of your tongue.

He seemed to like it as well due to the smile tugging at his lips but you chose to ignore it, opting to eat what you could. You could feel his gaze on you and noticed it for yourself when you glanced from your peripheral as Mor began to tell you what Velaris had to offer.

“It sounds beautiful,” you sighed in awe.

“I could take you.” Your eyes met Azriel’s, noting that his expression was neutral even though you felt like he deeply wanted you to agree. “The city is meant to be seen at night.”

“I would expect nothing less from The City of Starlight,” you laughed, noting an emotion in his eyes that you couldn’t place.

With a nod in a silent goodbye, you went to find your sisters who were where you thought they would be. Elain was still staring out of the window with a blank stare and Nesta was in a chair in the room with her reading a book. Your oldest sister’s blank stare fell on you and since it made you feel unwelcome, you quickly left and opted to spend your day in your room. The feeling of loneliness was nothing new but it hurt even worse with the circumstances that were beginning to feel impossible to sort through. 

As the day came to a close, you searched through the new wardrobe in hopes of finding something suitable. It was as if Mor knew of your struggle because she was flitting into the room as the afternoon was coming to a close. Her help was more than welcomed since you didn’t know how to dress up for anything at all. She chose a gorgeous blue dress and fixed your hair into loose curls. It was the prettiest that you had ever felt. Azriel’s face softened when you entered the dining room where he was waiting and he guided you to the balcony.

“The House is warded against winnowing so we will have to fly,” he started gently, watching you with nearly invisible caution. “There is always the option of the ten thousand steps to the city but that would ruin your beautiful dress.”

“I’ve never flown before.” It was hard to speak and keep the shock from the simple word from your tone before eyeing his wings. “It sounds scary.”

“I promise not to drop you,” he chuckled, the noise almost inaudible.

You nodded your head and nearly gasped when he picked you up gently, the feeling contradicting his size and obvious muscles. The flight down wasn’t as scary as you expected and you knew that Azriel was doing his best to keep you comfortable. He landed you both down next to what he called the Sidra and you couldn’t help but admire the sight. Azriel followed suit when you leaned against the railing and it was then that you noticed the blue stone on the top of his hand. Your attention turned to the scars and your heart immediately ached for him.

“They are siphons,” he explained to your silent question but stiffened when you placed your hand over his and ran a thumb over his scars. 

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, admiring how the kind male beside you had turned out that way despite the obvious trauma that he went through before giving him a soft smile. “Oh, your siphons are too.”

He smiled brightly, the sight taking your breath away in the process. You couldn’t help but return it before he placed a hand on your lower back and guided you further into the city. Amazement of the sights sent your heart fluttering and then it warmed when Azriel let you slip your hand into his. 

**

Azriel couldn’t keep his disbelief hidden from himself when it was obvious to see that you deeply enjoyed his company. It seemed that you always found a way to gravitate towards him and a piece of him wondered if it was the unknown mating bond or if you were truly that attention starved. He always silently observed every interaction possible between you and your sisters but each one was short lived. It hurt his own heart for you since he knew what it was like to be shunned by your own family. 

He had a day planned in the city with you when Rhys called him away to help Cassian retrieve Feyre. Even though you knew nothing, you were genuinely understanding and it only made him love you more for it. His heart only hurt worse when they returned with Feyre and you were barely acknowledged. He bristled when you glanced at his High Lord with a hint of fear radiating off of you. When tears lined your eyes, he couldn’t stop himself from pulling you into an empty hallway to pull you into his arms.

You melted in his embrace and silently cried for less than a handful of minutes before pulling away and wiping your eyes. If he hadn’t needed to watch Lucien, he would have taken you right then and there out to the city in hopes of lightening your mood and bringing the smile back to your face that he desperately wanted to see.

“My favorite human holiday is coming up next week,” you muttered before leaning against the wall behind you. “I wonder if they’ll celebrate it with me.”

“I would be more than happy to help with anything that you need,” he replied quietly before his heart clenched at the sight of your small smile. 

The day before the holiday, he had followed you into the city to get all of the decorations that you needed. Between the shopping that he usually didn’t enjoy doing and helping you set everything up the next morning, he was happier than he had been in a long time. Any amount of time that he got with you was highly cherished and it always seemed that you felt the same. His heart dropped at your frown when his brothers and Feyre returned. The slight scent of your fear again had him bristling but forced himself to keep his face unreadable as he watched.

“I thought that we could actually celebrate now,” you said hopefully to the High Lady. “Maybe make things feel a little more like home in a way.”

“We didn’t want to do your holiday back then and we really don’t now.”

Nesta’s words when she entered the dining room had him glaring at her when tears filled your eyes. He nearly growled in his protective nature at the sight of your oldest sister who wasn’t phased by the sight that always had his stomach turning. She left with a scoff and roll of her eyes before disappearing again. It wasn’t until Feyre gave you a half hearted apologetic smile and disappeared after Nesta did you finally run to your room.

A glare at his High Lord who knew about the bond only had him seeing red when Rhysand simply shrugged and followed after his own mate.

**

Your time with Azriel became less and less the closer that the war came. Despite taking Cassian up on his offer to train, you weren’t anywhere near close to trying to go up against the simplest of opponents. Azriel always appeared proud that you had agreed to learn to defend yourself if need be. There was always an emotion in his eyes that you could never place when your eyes met but what you did know was that you were falling in love with him. 

Even though you were worried about Elain when she was kidnapped, you couldn’t stop the hurt that hit you when you saw her in his arms. Your relief for your sister’s safety quickly changed into horror when you saw the injuries that he had received. You followed behind him quietly and stayed out of the way while he was tended to by Thesan. He would lock eyes with you every so often and give you a reassuring smile that had a tug in your heart pulling towards him.

Azriel stayed with you in your tent that night but even him holding you close against him did nothing to help you sleep. Your worry and fear ate at you about the war that would be taking place kept your heart and mind racing. Standing at the edge of the battlefield with Feyre’s new family and your sisters did nothing but refuel your terror. Hurt coursed through you to see the male that you had fallen in love with hand his dagger to Elain. You knew that you wouldn’t be anywhere near the fight as instructed.

“We will get through this,” Azriel whispered in a low voice that only you could hear when he returned to your side.

You gave a short hum in agreement but stepped away from him as heartbreak continued to swirl within you. With the shortest glance at the shadowsinger, you saw confusion and something akin to hurt on his face before he faced the battle beginning ahead of them. All that you could do was watch with tears streaming down your face and your own sobs escaping you when Feyre's pained screaming met you when it was all over.

You already knew what had happened and since you were all alone, you let yourself fall apart in the place that you had been left at and let yourself grieve for your sister. There was absolutely nothing that you could do to help anyone or anything but you had become used to it at this point in your life. Since there weren’t any other options for you, you disappeared into your tent, continuing to cry. You weren’t sure how much time had gone by before you heard the tent flaps move to find Feyre looking at you with tear-filled eyes.

“I’m so, so sorry,” she whispered as she began to cry and the pain in her eyes and on her face had your heart dropping. “Father- He-”

You already knew what she meant since you had seen his ships and you simply turned your back to her. A soft, pained sigh left your sister before she reluctantly left and your heart hurt even more at the fact that you didn’t know anything at all. You had truly been forgotten by everyone. All that you wanted was to be alone to try to sort through your emotions. It was already hard enough with the struggle that you were having with adjusting to your new life as High Fae but this added pain was too much.

Once you were finally able to return home, you secluded yourself into a room in the townhouse while everyone else gathered around. You wanted nothing to do with any of them but you were stuck in the court that you didn’t want to be in. Time passed in a blur and you even refused to be around Azriel despite his pained features when you told him to go away. The comfort that you had once felt around him had dissipated when you noticed his visible worry for Elain. You couldn’t blame him  because your sister had always been the most beautiful and you would choose her over you any day.

“You’re doing what now?” you asked one afternoon when Feyre cornered you when you were finished eating, silent as you always were.

“Starfall is tomorrow and we need to get you a dress,” Feyre answered, speaking as if it was obvious.

“What is ‘Starfall?’”

“A Fae tradi-”

“So you’ll celebrate the things that the Fae do but you never bothered when I planned anything?” you snapped hatefully.

Feyre simply frowned before sighing and leaving your room. You sat brooding on your balcony, enjoying the light breeze blowing past you, wondering how things had turned out how it had. Being in Fae territory became even more unbearable by the day and you were beginning to not care if humans didn’t like your kind, half heartedly planning a return to the human lands. Before you could get into your thoughts much further, someone landed on the balcony beside you. Not just anyone, but the one in the group that truly scared you.

“I hear you’re opposed to Fae holidays,” Rhys began nonchalantly. “Why-”

“I’m not participating in your stupid traditions,” you snapped, taking steps back when he took enough steps forward and had you cornered with nowhere to go.

“And why, Y/N, do you refuse?”

“Because I don’t want to!” you yelled despite the fear that you knew he could sense.

“This is what you’re going to do.” He placed a hand on the railing on each side of you, hovering too close for comfort with a stern but angry expression. “You will be there tomorrow whether you like it or not. I will not have you ruining this night for Feyre. You will not like the repercussions if you upset her on her favorite holiday.”

With that, he left you there while you shook from the fear that you had just been left in.

**

Azriel had never imagined how much it would hurt to be pushed away by his own mate. You wouldn’t talk to him or even make eye contact. It was very obvious to everyone that you were miserable and he noted that depression had fully taken over you even and you always failed to conceal it when you tried. Every attempt that he made was always quickly shut down or simply ignored.

The night of Starfall, he barely saw you. You stood by yourself, refusing to speak to anyone that tried to engage in conversation with you by a half hearted smile. When he noticed that you disappeared, he followed your scent down the hall towards your room where he knew that you would be. His knock went unanswered but he let himself in anyway since the door wasn’t locked. He noted that your room was half decorated with the human holiday that you loved while you stood against the balcony in a simple dress that replaced your previous one.

“Are you alright?” he asked hesitantly, bracing himself to be told to leave.

“No.” Your answer was short and clipped but you didn’t bother to look at him as you continued to watch the sight of Starfall. “No, I’m not.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Why am I being forced to participate in something that I don’t want to be a part of?” you asked and he heard the anger beginning to fill your tone. “They were never a part of the one simple holiday that I tried to get them to enjoy. All that I wanted was to spread some joy in the crappy situation that we were in and even now, they still refuse to acknowledge it.”

“You didn’t have to join if you didn’t want to,” he assured gently, placing a hand over yours.

“Yes, I did,” you scoffed, causing him to raise an eyebrow in silent question. “Your oh so wonderful High Lord insisted. As a matter of fact, he threatened repercussions if I messed up wonderful Feyre’s favorite Fae tradition. I was forced to become a High Fae and now I’m being forced into traditions that I now want no part of.”

“Rhys did what?” he asked, his voice low with anger that was directed towards his brother.

“It doesn’t even matter anymore.” You went silent for only a moment before anger began to roll off of you. “You know what? It does matter. I will not allow them to walk all over me anymore.”

Azriel followed you in a hurry, hoping to do damage control when it was needed. All eyes fell on you when you stormed directly into the party. As if sensing your anger, Feyre’s eyes immediately locked onto yours. When you got too close, Rhysand gave him a stern glare in silent warning so he caught you around the waist to keep you in one spot.

“You are a shitty sister!” you snapped loudly, turning all eyes on you.

“What-”

“Oh, no. You don’t get to talk or ask questions.” He kept you in place despite your struggling as Elain moved beside the High Lady. “Both you have done nothing but shove me to the very back of your minds! Left me on the back burner! You didn’t even bother telling me that our father was dead until everyone was settled comfortably back in the camp!”

“We’re really sorry, Y/N-”

“You’re just as bad!” His arm tightened around you, pulling your back to his front when you began shaking in anger. “All that all of you have done was forget about me! None of your little ‘family’ even knew I existed! And even though you always disregarded my holiday that was always meant to lighten our troubles, your precious High Lord threatened me to participate in your stupid Fae traditions!”

Azriel’s eyes went wide with all of the information that you had just unleashed for everyone to hear. Even though everyone was staring at the confrontation with gaping mouths, he kept his attention on Rhysand who was trying to keep his power in check from his anger due to his own mate’s tears.

“Get your mate out of my city, Azriel,” Rhys ordered, the secret now revealed causing you to stiffen.

“What the hell is he talking about?” you asked, jerking out of his grip and shoving him harshly in the chest.

“I wanted to tell you but with everythi-”

“Oh no,” you chuckled darkly, tears now flowing freely down your face. “Yet another Fae tradition that I just have to deal with.”

“You don’t have to,” Azriel tried, desperation filling him just as much as his anger at his High Lord. “You-”

“Get away from me,” you snapped, backing away from him towards the door to the steps. “I’ll take care of myself just like I always have.”

With that, you darted for the door while he was left standing there in shock before the heartache took over him.

@amara-moonlight @allygrace74 @sidthedollface2 @historygeekqueen 

@hnyclover @kalulakunundrum @historygeekqueen @bubybubsters @thisblogisaboutabook @mybestfriendmademejoin

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #acotar

[bubblybloob]

I have a feeling, and bear with me here, that each of the voices’ own chapters are where they’re their worst selves.

Think about it. Hunted plays right in the Beast’s hands, yet he is incredibly useful in dodging Razor and kind of acts like a predator instead of prey in Eye of the Needle. Skeptic overanalyzes every minute detail that he can in Prisoner and his encouragement ends in us getting a shackle around our neck, but in Den and Eye of the Needle he is an integral part of the plan to lure the princess out.

This is why it’s hard to tell what’s really up with some voices, for example let’s look at Broken. Broken is actively working against us in Tower, yet is rather gentle in Wild. I believe the only other two instances he appears in is in the two “Everyone is here” chapters where he is overshadowed and is literally called by Opportunist the worst of the bunch in Clarity, which isn’t necessarily inaccurate but it only serves to worsen his reputation when he doesn’t seem all that bad when he’s our secondary voice to show up in Wild. Though again, Wild is our only example of him being like this, and all voices brought into the Wild seem a little too passive. I wonder if there was another chapter where he was our secondary voice and with no huge “everyone is here” event, he’d act differently.

Paranoid is a toss up because he spends most of Nightmare being unable to speak up, he’s too busy trying to keep you alive, and when he does speak he usually says something generally useful, like getting the narrator to shut up or theorizing His control over their situation. Though to be fair his whole existence as a voice of paranoia in our head gets dampened by the absolute insane situation we’re forced into in every route, so most of what he says ends up sounding relatively reasonable despite what his title implies. I’m pretty sure anyone would be paranoid if they kept coming back to life and are forced to kill the same woman who continues evolving in how she looks and behaves.

Cheated is like if Broken’s problems and Paranoids problems were mixed together. His own string of chapters is a big “everyone is here” adventure, so obviously attention gets diverted away from him to make room for the others. Even then, this is where he’s at his worst, so what about where he’s at his best? Sadly, he is actually a little hard to get given the situations you have to enact that most players won’t follow on. I myself have never gotten him outside of Razor. I wonder how much we’re all actually aware of what he’s like at his best instead of his worst.

I do remember Black Tabby Games saying something along the lines of them wanting voices to be more useful outside of their own chapters, so I wonder if that contributed to this feeling I’ve been getting from them.

#slay the princess #stp voices

[gotham-daydreams]

How would it have gone differently if Reader didn't try to be an "overachiever" and instead just stayed quiet and didn't interact with anyone besides Alfred until they left? Their room they left being mostly blank, with only the music journals? Giving up on trying to get their attention.

I think what's so funny about this ask, to me, is that I already have a concept like this written down (along with 3 others since the current reader I'm writing for the "Not [ ]" series is one of them but with a few missing details), so this'll be fun!

I guess it generally goes how you'd expect? Which is different for the most part, but the reader's perspective on what's happening is also different.

Granted, I would like to point out that, at least for this particular concept and the idea I have for it of how this would go, does have more stuff going on pre-Batfam that do affect how they perceive what's happening, and that's what makes things interesting in my opinion. Because someone can be naturally shy or just overall more reserved either out of nature or because they feel a certain way, but still feel bad about being neglected and, despite their lack of effort, feel that pain just as much as someone who's tried. Which is valid! Besides, someone's definition of 'trying' can vary as well.

Everyone should have a chance to have a family, and form some kind of connection with people. Just because you aren't going above and beyond for one person, doesn't mean you're undeserving of certain things. Especially not a chance to have a family, or feel like you have one. That's what I think anyway.

Nevertheless, back to the reader!

From the original concept, I will be tweaking a few things to fit the ask, but the same general outcome remains! Though again, the reader's perspective on things is a tad different. But how about this- I'll show two versions of the reader.

One that's quiet and more reserved because they gave up much earlier, or just generally hopeless really early on because maybe they felt as if anything they'd do just wouldn't be enough, who'll be accurately named Quiet!Reader. With the other being more closely related to the concept I wrote for such an idea, that we'll refer to as Waiting!Reader.

Quiet!Reader would change up things quite a bit! I won't lie!

They might already have bad self-esteem that's quick to develop at the start of things, which is something to note as that doesn't get better with time. They grow more cold and distant from the family at a quicker pace both from personal and external reasons.

Put simply, they don't feel good enough, and even if they did- anything they could do to get the Batfam's attention would never be enough in their eyes. To which, they see very early on when they try to engage and do some things with the family, only to be turned down. What doesn't help is when Quiet!Reader sees Damian get adopted and almost immediately showered with love, (compared to them) and that really cements some ideas that were already developing in their head about the family.

When Damian comes into the picture, they feel replaced. Seeing him as someone to fill in the 'youngest Wayne' role instead of them, so that Bruce and the others actually have someone to acknowledge for such a title. Just someone else to further take away the little they had.

So, they further step out of the way, glaring at the Batfam with tired eyes before that eventually stops too. Envy clawing at their heart, hatred being sent through waves of pain all throughout their body. Hurt unmatched. Yet they still remain invisible. Quiet as ever. Unnoticed. Everything they ever felt dies down, and forms a cold numbness that they begin to associate with the family.

Maybe through that, they feel closer to the family in some twisted way. Now just as cold as them. Just as talkative, and just as engaging. Almost mirroring them, but they're honest about how they feel. Honest about what they think, and therefore better. At least when compared to the Batfam- and to them, even if it wasn't a high bar to reach anyway, at least it counts for something.

It was never Damian's fault, or really about Damian at all. It could've been anyone else and Quiet!Reader would've still reacted the same way, they know that. Though just seeing the Batfam show love and care to him and not them just makes them feel... worse.

Clearly they're capable of love, and can notice new additions to the family (to which they may have mostly believed that the Batfam's neglect was just something the family did for whatever reason, and thought that them being the youngest had something to do with it for a while) and that breaks the reader. It doesn't hurt, not as much as it would've, maybe, but whatever hurt is there dies down quickly as Quiet!Reader, well, quietly accepts their fate.

The Batfam clearly wants nothing to do with them, so why should they try to do all of these things for them? It's simple, they shouldn't. So they don't. Quiet!Reader gives up, and continues to live their life without them.

The Manor just becomes a place they sleep in, and nothing else. It isn't anything close to a home, and not even Alfred can help with that.

It's because of that little fact, however, that Quiet!Reader leaves much sooner than the reader in the "Not [ ]" series. Maybe once they get a friend they can trust, they essentially end up living with said friend, hence why their room remains so empty. The notebooks they even keep in the room they have in the Manor is from when they were way younger, instead of just being from a few months ago or so. We're talking years since Quiet!Reader has touched those things now.

Maybe they do 'officially' leave a month or so before they usually would as an overachiever in the "Not [ ]" series, having only bothered to return so often before because of Alfred. Though even then, they'd forget to return most nights- only being reminded to even try and go back once Alfred would personally call them, and ask them where they were.

However now, after a while of just the time between them basically living with their friend and sleeping at the manor, they stop returning altogether. Though this time around they instead personally go to Alfred to say they're goodbyes. Not explaining much, but just saying that while they might still try to come and visit him sometimes, they don't live in the Manor anymore. Alfred already knows this, and the embrace they share fully hammers in that fact.

Yet when Quiet!Reader turns away, and leaves the Manor for good- even through the front door at that. Alfred can't help but just... miss them already.

You see, while Quiet!Reader is indeed quieter and more reserved, especially towards the Batfam, with Alfred really being the only exception, they still made music.

Maybe they didn't have as many concerts or physical, grand, live performances compared to the reader in the "Not [ ]" series, they not only started earlier, but may have actually started out on a social platform such a youtube. They really started out small, but were able to find and start their passion much earlier!

Most of what they played was when they were in the Manor, but slowly they started to get involved with things music related outside of the Manor and in Gotham- and from there were able to build themselves up even more. Hell, I'd even say that Quiet!Reader is a little more well-known and popular than the reader in the "Not [ ]" series because of the amount of extra time they dedicated to their passion.

So basically, Alfred this time around has more recordings and such of Quiet!Reader actually doing something they love than with the one in the series. However! Funnily enough, they're gone for a shorter amount of time despite having left earlier than normal.

Alfred is just, extra fed up with this nonsense, and so pulls his tricks more early on, but also make them hit harder.

He doesn't clean Quiet!Reader's room to show how long they've been gone, adding onto the emptiness and almost abandoned feeling the room itself gives off because of how bare and empty it is. They're music haunts the halls, subtle, sure, but still noticeable- especially to those who are hyper aware all the time. Pictures of Quiet!Reader and Alfred begin to be hung up, and if he can manage- some with Quiet!Reader and their friends during important parts of their life.

No one is safe from the guilt and anguish Alfred seeks to cause to not only have the Batfam look for you, but most importantly, to finally notice you.

Let's just say, things work out a little too well.

---

As for Waiting!Reader? Oh man, I've been wanting to rant about them for a while!

Unlike the reader in the "Not [ ]" series and Quiet!Reader, Waiting!Reader had some semblance of a life before getting adopted into the Batfam. Though the idea and character themself isn't musically inclined/involved in music, or even all that interested in music for that matter- for the sake of this ask, lets say they are!

I won't dabble too much into the life Waiting!Reader had before the Batfam, as if I do end up writing them I'd also like to keep some details vague (for the sake of leaving it up to interpretation and everything), but just know that during the time they were still with their original family, they were essentially taught that they should 'wait their turn', and eventually their parents would spend time with them and care for them. Hence the little name I've given them.

So! When they get to the Manor and are officially adopted, only to be neglected and ignored during their first few attempts- because of their young age, they immediately think "oh! they're just like mom and dad!" So they 'wait' for 'their turn', believing that eventually, should they wait long enough, they'll be rewarded with bonding and such from the Batfam just as they were with their previous parents.

This mindset changes what they do as well, as Waiting!Reader even goes out of their way to not bother anyone, or "get in the way" of whatever they could be doing. Waiting!Reader treats the situation so much like their previous home life, that sometimes they might even forget that the Batfam are completely different people from their parents. The only real difference that they can think of is that they're not acknowledged at all and it seems like their 'turn' never comes. Though for a while that doesn't get them down. The Batfam is busy like they're parents were! Waiting!Reader is sure that when things die down then they'll have their time.

... Hopefully.

I can imagine that part of the reason why Waiting!Reader holds on to hope for so long is because, again, their own parents constantly reassured them that they would have their time eventually. That if they behaved, and stayed out of the way, then they would go somewhere fun with their parents and essentially be rewarded for their efforts. They were conditioned to wait, to be patient, and just comply until those around them decided to actually take care of them, and spend time with them.

Of course, as they grow up the reality of the situation does hit them eventually, but during that time they do try.

Waiting!Reader helps Alfred around the house, and so they mostly bond over doing chores, among other things. They are also more mindful, and try to keep the amount of noise they back down— so they actually don't play at the Manor all that often, and instead play literally anywhere else. If and when they do play outside, around the area of the Manor like in the gardens or something, they make sure no one is around before even thinking of playing.

Alfred does help them break a few of their habits that they got while living with their parents, but the one thing he can't seem to 'fix' is how absolutely quiet Waiting!Reader is when they walk around. Which, as on can imagine, doesn't exactly help in a situation where the whole family, except for the butler, is neglecting you.

The amount of times Waiting!Reader has caught Alfred off guard is more then you'd think for someone that works with the Dark Knight, and his various sidekicks and such, over the years. Which does say something, sure, but it's also funny!

Regardless, similar to Quiet!Reader, Waiting!Reader is able to start their musical career earlier than normal, and thuse becomes a little more popular than they would originally. However, they're more known for their live performances and giving back to the community. Seemingly just like Bruce as they attend charity event after charity event, and try to do good by the people.

Waiting!Reader also does genuinely try to become a vigilante as well, but they do so in a way where they only take care of the smaller/medium guys, and leave the bigger ones to the rest of the Batfam. This is because they want to remove possible distractions for their family, and while they would try to take on "bigger guys", they don't think they're skilled enough or experienced enough to even think about it. So they don't even try. (They also don't have the same theme as the Batfam- since they don't want to 'ruin' their reputation with what they're doing or something. Which does hell them further detach themself from the family later on.)

I'd say that with Waiting!Reader, the difference between them and the Batfam is more clear to them? Like, to them, the Batfam are just so good at what they do that they have no hope of reaching them. So instead of trying to reach for them, they just do their own thing and try to help in their own way.

Because Waiting!Reader takes care of smaller guys, they are kind of closer to Waiting!Reader as a vigilante.

The best way I can put it is that while the community trusts Batman and the members of the Batfam to save their city, they trust Waiting!Reader to save their homes.

So basically- Batfam is the bigger picture while Waiting!Reader focuses on the smaller picture.

Nevertheless! Also like Quiet!Reader, Waiting!Reader actually leaves earlier. Except when they leave, they leave.

Waiting!Reader straight up leaves Gotham City to attend the college that they want to go to, in an area that has more opportunity for them, that isn't close to where the Batfam lives or patrols.

So they not only leave earlier, but it also takes the Batfam longer to find them. Especially because Waiting!Reader does still do some things in Gotham, they just don't live there anymore.

I feel like out of all three readers, Waiting!Reader definitely feels like the kind of person that someone would assume is some kind of "Phantom of the Wayne Manor," y'know?

So Alfred definitely tries to make the Batfam feel bad like he does with Quiet!Reader. Except how anyone in the Batfam is reminded that Waiting!Reader even exists, and that they've been gone for a while now is through a letter that is accidentally sent to the Wayne Manor from one of Waiting!Reader's fans. From there, some research does start and the more the Batfam learns, the more they want to go and find the reader- you know the deal.

I hope this answered your question even if I really did ramble on this time- if you'd like me to clarify anything or go into more detail on a specific part, feel free to send in an ask!

#platonic yandere batfam #yandere batfam #gn reader #sibling reader #yandere dc #yandere x gn reader #platonic yandere #yandere alfred #neglected reader #talking daydreams #yandere batman

[jewelleria]

I don’t usually talk about politics on here, if ever. But it’s been almost six months since the conflict in the Middle East flared up again, and I’m finally ready to start. Here are some of my thoughts.

I say ‘flared up’ because this has happened before and it’ll happen again. Because, even though what's currently going on is absolutely unprecedented, those of us who live in this part of the world are used to it. Let that sink in: we are used to this. And we shouldn’t have to be. 

But I use that term for another reason: I don't want to accidentally call it the wrong thing lest I come under fire for being a genocidal maniac or a terrorist or a propaganda machine, etc., etc.—so let’s just call it ‘the war’ or ‘the conflict.’ Because that’s what it is. Doesn’t matter which side you’re on, who you love, or who you hate. 

This post will, in all likelihood, sit in my drafts forever. If it does get posted, it certainly won’t be on my main, because I'm scared of being harassed (spoiler: she posted it on her main). I hate admitting that, but honestly? I’m fucking terrified. 

I also feel like in order for anything I say on here (i.e. the hellscape of the internet) to be taken seriously, I have to somehow prove that a) I’m “educated” enough to talk about the conflict, and b) that my opinion lines up with what has been deemed the correct one. So, tedious and unnecessary though it is, I will tell you about my experience, because I have a feeling most of the people reading this post are not nearly as close to what’s happening as I am.

How do I explain where I live without actually explaining where I live? How do I say “I live in the Red Zone of international conflicts” without saying what I actually think? How do I convey the fear that grips me when I try to decide between saying “I live in Palestine” and “I live in Israel”? I don't really know. But I do know that names are important. I also know that, due to the various clickbaity monikers ascribed to the conflict, it would probably just be easier to point to a map. 

I haven't always lived in the Middle East. I've lived in various places along America’s east coast, and traveled all over the world. But in short, I now live somewhere inside the crudely-drawn purple circle. 

If you know anything about these borders you probably blanched a bit in sympathy, or maybe condolence. But in truth, it’s a shockingly normal existence. I don't feel like I've lived through the shifting of international relations or a war or anything. I just kind of feel like I did when COVID hit, that dull sameness as I wondered if this would be the only world-altering event to shape my life, or if there would be more. 

I've been told that, in order for my brain to process all the horrific details of the past six months, there needs to be some element of cognitive dissonance—that falling into a sort of dissociative mindset is the only way to not go insane under the weight of it all. I think in some ways that’s true. I have been terrifyingly close to bus stop shootings when my commute wasn’t over; I have felt my apartment building shake with the reverberations of a missile strike; I have spent hours in underground shelters waiting for air raid sirens to stop. 

But. I have also gone grocery shopping, and skipped class, and stayed up too late watching TV, and fed the cats on the street corner, and cried over a boy, and got myself AirPods just because, and taken out the trash, and done laundry on a delicate cycle, and bought overpriced lattes one too many days a week. I have looked at pretty things and taken out my phone because, despite it all, I still think that life is too short not to freeze the small moments. 

So I'd say, all things considered, I live an incredibly privileged life—compared, of course, to those suffering in Gaza—one filled with sunsets and over-sweetened knafeh and every different color of sand. One that allows me to throw myself into a fandom-induced hyperfixation (or, alternatively, escape method) as I sit on the couch and crack open my laptop to write the next chapter of the fic I'm working on. 

But there are bits of not-normalness that wheedle their way through the cracks. I pretend these moments are avoidable, even if they’re not. 

They look like this: reading the news and seeing another idiotic, careless choice on Netanyahu’s part and groaning into my morning coffee. Watching Palestinian and Jewish children’s needless suffering posted on Instagram reels and feeling helpless. Opening my Tumblr DMs to find a message telling me to exterminate myself for reblogging a post that only seems like it’s about the war if you squint and tilt your head sideways. 

These moments look like all the tiny ways I am reminded that I'm living in a post-October seventh world, where hearing a car backfire makes me jump out of my skin and the sound of a suitcase on pavement makes me look up at the sky and search for the war planes. They look like the heavy grief that is, and also isn’t, mine. 

Here's the thing, though. I know you’re wondering when the ball will drop and my true opinion will be revealed. I know you’re waiting for me to reveal what demographic I'm a part of so that you, dear reader, can neatly slap a label on my head and sort me into some oversimplified category that lets you continue to think you understand this war. 

No one wants to sit and ruminate on the difficult questions, the ones that make you wonder if maybe you’ve been tinkered with by the propaganda machine, if you might need to go back on what you’ve said or change your mind. We all strive for our perception of complicated issues to be a comfortable one.

But I know that no matter what I do, there will always be assumptions. So, while I shudder to reveal this information online, I think that maybe my most significant contribution to this meta-discussion spanning every facet of the internet is this: 

I am a Jew. 

Or, alternatively, I am: Jewish, יהודית, يَهُودِيٌّ, etc. Point is, I come from Jews. And, like any given person, I am a product of generation after generation of love. 

I'm not going to take time to explain my heritage to you, or to prove that before all the expulsions and pogroms, there was an origin point. If you don’t believe that, perhaps it’s less of a factual problem and more of an ‘I don’t give weight to the beliefs of indigenous people’ problem. But, in case you want to spend time uselessly refuting this tiny point in a larger argument, you can inspect the photos below (it’s just a small chunk of my DNA test results). Alternatively, you can remember that interrogating someone in an attempt to make their indigeneity match your arbitrary criteria is generally not seen as good manners. 

Now, let’s go back to thathateful message (read: poorly disguised death threat) I received in my Tumblr DMs. I think it was like two or three weeks ago. I had recently gained a new follower whose blog’s primary focus was the fandom I contribute to, so I followed them back. I saw in my notes that they were going through my posts and liking them—as one does when gaining a new mutual. Yippee! 

Then they sent me this: 

I tried to explain that hate speech is not a way to go about participating in political discourse, but the person had already blocked me immediately after sending that message. Then, assured by the fact that I surely would never see them complaining about me on their blog (because, as I said, they blocked me), they posted a shouting rant accusing me of sympathizing with colonizing settlers and declaring me a “racist Zionist fuck.” Oh, the wonders of incognito tabs.

Where this person drew these conclusions after reading my (reblogged) post about antisemitism…. I'm not actually sure. But I greatly sympathize with them, and hope that they weren’t too personally offended by my desire to not die. 

For a while I contemplated this experience in my righteous anger, and tried to figure out a way to message this person. I wanted to explain that a) seeing a post about being Jewish and choosing to harass the creator about Israel is literally the definition of antisemitism and b) that sending a hateful DM and refusing to be held accountable is just childish and immature. But I gave up soon after—because, honestly, I knew it wasn’t worth my effort or energy. And I knew that I wouldn't be able to change their mind. 

But I still remember staring at that rather unfortunate meme, accompanied by an all-caps message demanding for me to Free Palestine, and thinking: the post didn’t even have any buzzwords. I remember the swoop of dread and guilt and fear. I remember wondering why this kind of antisemitism felt worse, in that moment, than the kind that leaves bodies in its wake. 

I remember thinking, I don’t have the power to free anyone.

I remember thinking, I’m so fucking tired. 

And before you tell me that this conflict isn’t about religion—let me ask you some questions. Why is it that Israel is even called Israel? (Here’s why.) Why do Jews even want it? (Here’s why.) But also, if you actually read the charters of Islamist terrorist organizations like ISIS, Hamas, and Hezbollah (among others), they equate the modern state of Israel with the Jewish people, and they use the two entities interchangeably. So of course this conflict is religious. It’s never been anything but that.

But I do wonder, when faced with those who deny this fact: how do I prove, through an endless slew of what-about-isms and victim blaming, that I too am hurting? How do I show that empathy is dialectical, that I can care deeply for Palestinians and Gazans while also grieving my own people? 

There's this thing that humans do, when we’re frustrated about politics and need to howl our opinions about it into the void until we feel better. We find like-minded souls, usually our friends and neighbors, and fret about the state of the world to each other until we’ve gone around in a satisfactory amount of circles. But these conversations never truly accomplish anything. They’re just a substitute, a stand-in catharsis, for what we really wish we could do: find someone who embodies the spirit of every Jew-hating internet troll, every ignorant justifier of terrorism, and scream ourselves hoarse at them until we change their mind.

But, of course, minds cannot be changed when they are determined to live in a state of irrational dislike. In Judaism, this way of thinking has a name: שנאת חינם (sinat hinam), or baseless hatred. It's a parasite with no definite cure, and it makes people bend over backwards to justify things like the massacre on October seventh, simply because the blame always needs to be placed on the Jews. 

So when a Jew is faced with this unsolvable problem, there is only one response to be had, only one feeling to be felt: anger. And we are angry. Carrying around rage with nowhere to put it is exhausting. It's like a weight at the base of our neck that pushes down on our spine, bending it until we will inevitably snap under the pressure. I’m still waiting to break, even now.

I wish I could explain to someone who needs to hear it that terrorism against Israelis happens every single day here, and that we are never more than one degree of separation away from the brutal slaughter of a friend, lover, parent, sibling. I wish it would be enough to say that the majority of Israelis (which includes Arab-Israeli citizens who have the exact same rights as Jewish-Israelis) wish for peace every day without ever having seen what it looks like. 

I wish I could show the world that Israel was founded as a socialist state, that it was built on communal values and born from a cluster of kibbutzim (small farming communities based on collective responsibility), and that what it is now isn’t what its people stand for. 

I wish the world could open their eyes to what we Israelis have seen since the beginning: that Hamas is the enemy, Hamas is the one starving Palestinians and denying them aid, Hamas is the one who keeps rejecting ceasefire terms and denying their citizens basic human rights. Hamas is the governing body of Gaza, not Israel. Hamas is responsible for the wellbeing of the Palestinian people. And Hamas are the ones who are more determined to murder Jews—over and over and over again, in the most animalistic ways possible—than to look inwards and see the suffering they’ve inflicted on their own people. I wish it was easier to see that.

But the wishing, the asking how can people be so blind, is never enough. I can never just say, I promise I don't want war. 

When I bear witness to this baseless hatred, I think of the victims of October seventh. I think of the women and girls who were raped and then murdered, forever unable to tell their stories. I think of the hostages, trapped underneath Gaza in dark tunnels, wondering if anyone will come for them. I think of Ori Ansbacher, of Ezra Schwartz, of Eyal, Gilad, and Naftali, of Lucy, Rina, and Maia Dee, of the Paley boys, of Ari Fuld and of Nachshon Wachsman. I think of all the innocent blood spilled because of terror-fueled hatred and the virus of antisemitism. I think of all the thousands of people who were brutally murdered in Israel, Jews and Muslims and Christians and humans, who will never see peace.

My ties to this land are knotted a thousand times over. Even when I leave, a part of me is left behind, waiting for me to claim it when I return. But when I see the grit it takes to live through this pain, when I see the suffering that paints the world the color of blood, I look to the heavens and I wonder why. 

I ask God: is it worth all this? He doesn't answer. So I am the one, in the end, to answer my own question. I say, it has to be. 

Feel free to send any genuine, respectful, and clarifying questions you may have to my inbox!

EDIT: just coming on here to say that I'm really touched & grateful for the love on this post. When I wrote it, I felt hopeless; I logged off of Tumblr for Shabbat, dreading the moment I would turn off my phone to find more hate in my inbox. Granted, I did find some, and responding to it was exhausting, but it wasn’t all hate. I read every kind reblog and comment, and the love was so much louder. Thank you, thank you, thank you. 🤍

Source Reading

The Whispered in Gaza Project by The Center for Peace Communications

Why Jews Cannot Stop Shaking Right Now by Dara Horn

Hamas Kidnapped My Father for Refusing to Be Their Puppet by Ala Mohammed Mushtaha

I Hope Someone Somewhere Is Being Kind to My Boy by Rachel Goldberg

The Struggle for Black Freedom Has Nothing to Do with Israel by Coleman Hughes

Israel Can Defend Itself and Uphold Its Values by The New York Times Editorial Board

There Is a Jewish Hope for Palestinian Liberation. It Must Survive by Peter Beinart

The Long Wait of the Hostages’ Families by Ruth Margalit

“By Any Means Necessary”: Hamas, Iran, and the Left by Armin Navabi

When People Tell You Who They Are, Believe Them by Bari Weiss

Hunger in Gaza: Blame Hamas, Not Israel by Yvette Miller

Benjamin Netanyahu Is Israel’s Worst Prime Minister Ever by Anshel Pfeffer

What Palestinians Really Think of Hamas by Amaney A. Jamal and Michael Robbins

The Decolonization Narrative Is Dangerous and False by Simon Sebag Montefiore

Understanding Hamas’s Genocidal Ideology by Bruce Hoffman

The Wisdom of Hamas by Matti Friedman

How the UN Discriminates Against Israel by Dina Rovner

This Muslim Israeli Woman Is the Future of the Middle East by The Free Press

Why Are Feminists Silent on Rape and Murder? by Bari Weiss

#palestine #israel hamas war #israel hamas conflict #hamas #on war #essay writing #personal essay #rant post #stop terrorism #israel #writing #palestinian lives matter #jewish lives matter #jewish and proud #jewish identity #jewish muslim solidarity #on grief #on religion #antisemitism #anti zionisim #purim 2024 #chag purim sameach #judaism #israeli palestinian conflict #am yisrael chai #kvetching #jumblr #mims on middle east #המצב

[sturncakez]

𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐞 ෆ

contains: bsf!chris, plot, smut, oral (fem receiving), n fingering.

reader discretion is advised.

christopher owen sturniolo. your bestfriend, but also the love of your life.

you’ve known him and his brothers matt, nick, and justin ever since you were little.

your father and jimmy have been extremely close since they grew up with each other, and of course passing the tradition along, they wanted their children to do the same. despite you being an only child.

you loved all of the boys equally, of course. but you seemed to gravitate towards chris. growing up you couldn’t tell why, but as you got older it seemed to be more obvious. i mean, look at the boy. he’s perfection.

there were so many reasons why you used this word to describe him. but you couldn’t even wrap your finger around just one.

was it the way his beautiful blue eyes shined in the summertime? or was it the way he was so calm and caring, only when it came down to you? perhaps it was the way you guys treated each other, almost like you guys were soulmates, but with no real feelings attached.

you can go on and on about him. his soft and dark locks that seemed to shine with no effort, his listening skills, eye contact that could and always easily melted your heart away, the way it felt like you guys could talk for ages for hours, or even days. in your eyes he had zero flaws, and as you got older, you realized you were in love with your bestfriend.

ྀིྀི

you’re seventeen now. junior in highschool. you peaked quite early to say the least. you’ve had confidence ever since you were young, but as the years went by it’s gotten better and better.

what type of person would chris be to not notice that? he was your “bestfriend” of course.

you had your own sense of taste and style, and your personality wasn’t like the rest. the last thing you would want to do was fit in with any girl at somerville.

little did you know that this is what made chris fall inlove with you. but you being oblivious, you payed no mind to that. thinking that there was no way in hell that your best friend of 15 years would ever feel the same.

one thing you really liked about yourself was your music taste. you had at least 6 favorite artists, but the neighbourhood being your absolute fave. you listened to them all the time. getting ready, in your car, during class, whenever.

one of your favorite songs by the band was softcore. it was your comfort song growing up, and you felt like you could relate to some of the lyrics given the situation with you and chris.

‘..you’ve been my muse for a long time

you get me through every dark night..

i’m always gone, out on the go

i’m on the run and you’re home alone..’

the lyrics touched you physically when you listened to that song for the first time. it was true. chris was your muse. he did get you through every single dark night. when your parents were fighting almost every single night as a kid, or that time they were so focused on your grades instead of your mental health. you were way too young for all of that to happen to you. chris was the one that got you through all that. no one else. it’s almost like if you didn’t have him you would break.

another reason why you felt so touched by those lyrics is because you were almost always out of the house.

it was an escape from reality for you. whether it was walks in the park, going to parties, or sneaking out. chris on the other hand, was the exact opposite.

ྀིྀི

it was friday, but today was different. you weren’t in the mood for anything today. every few months your body gave out from all of the constant going out you would do. you decided maybe tonight was the night you would be an average teen girl and just stay home and watch movies. you were pretty tired anyway.

you decided to just binge watch 2000’s movies and fall asleep watching baylen levine. those plans seemed to be interrupted though, as you heard a ‘ding’ noise coming from your phone.

confused, because your phone always seemed to be on do not disturb, you checked to see who it was. forgetting that there was only one person that you allowed yourself to get notifications from.

it was chris.

chris: Hey

Was just wondering if you wanted to come over, nick n matt are gone for a bit and i’m pretty bored 😭

If not it’s fine tho

your heart began to pound in your chest as you stayed staring at the message. realizing you had your read receipts on you immediately jumped back into reality and began typing away a reply.

should you say yes? or should you say no? you told yourself you wouldn’t let your crush change anything between you guys but something felt different today..

a feeling lurking inside of you telling you that you couldn’t hold it back.

you started to type away.

you: ofc i’d loved to come over

just give me like 10 mins to get ready

chris: Alr np, just text me when you’re otw

you received a sick feeling in your stomach getting that last text. nonetheless, you got up out of your bed and began getting ready.

you threw on a cropped white tee and comfy sweatpants. it didn’t really matter what you wore around chris, and you didn’t think much of what he thought either. because of this you decided to not throw on a bra thinking it wouldn’t matter, but oh were you wrong.

after throwing on your outift and popping your gold hoops and remaining jewelry in, you put your hair in a low half up, got your belongings, and headed out while texting him you were on the way.

it wasn’t that far of a drive to chris’s, his house only being a few blocks away. you parked in the driveway and contemplated going in.

ྀིྀི

finally, you knocked. letting him know of your arrival.

you could hear his footsteps on the other end of the door, and the clicks and clacks of him unlocking it.

“heyyy! i missed you kid!” he exclaimed joyfully, pulling you into an embrace.

“i missed you too, chris! how have you been?” you replied back, feeling as safe as a baby in their mothers arms with him.

“bored outta my mind honestly man. nick and matt have been out for hours, and fortnite was started to get boring believe it or not.” chris said back as he pulled you in, shutting and locking the door behind you.

“surprised to hear that coming from you chris. so was hanging with best friend of fifteen years a last resort or what?” you said in a playful tone while taking off your shoes.

“kinda didn’t wanna bother you ‘cause i thought you had better things to do” chris replied.

you chuckled and looked up at him. “okay so what now?”

chris sighs. “movie?” he says with a cheesy smile on his face.

“gosh you know me so well” you respond back to him.

“kid i’ve known you since we were 2, ‘course i do.”

silence lingers in the air for a while as you both just stare at each other. a smile starts to creep up chris’s face as he full on lunges towards you and picks up right off of the ground as if you weighed nothing. you squeal “CHRIS WHAT THE FUCK PUT ME DOWN!” as he begins running up the stairs to his bedroom and throwing you down onto his bed. this was one of his many ways to mess with you. “calm down kid i wasn’t gonna throw you that hard.” he replies and starts to laugh his ass off as if it was the funniest thing in the world.

you just start to look at him as he laughs, loving the way his smile is, and adoring the sound of his laugh — which most may call obnoxious.

“you’re insane i hope you know that.” you reply.

after he calms down from his laughing fit that seemed to last ages, a moment of silence begins to brew again. lasting longer than the first time. this time was different though. the eye contact didn’t seem like ‘friendly’ eye contact, but at the same time you never really had that eye contact with each other in the first place.

you start to look down at his lips. and right now, in this moment, they looked as delectable as ever. something about them. the rosy pink color they had, the same one displayed on his cheeks. the way they were plump and looked kissable. so kissable.

a feeling started to brew in your stomach. butterflies.

you could tell chris felt the same way. he looked down at your lips, admiring the brown and pink colors. before you could even get a breath out, his lips collided with yours. the kiss was perfect, more than that. they fit so well together, like a mold. he held your the side of your face as you began to straddle on-top of his lap.

but suddenly, you stopped. “wait chris..i’m not sure if..we should be doing this.” you said as you catched your breath, realizing what had just taken place seconds ago.

“baby it’s fine, i’ve been wanting this, wanting you, for as long as i could remember. you’re fine, i promise.” chris replies.

something about the way he said that..his words. its like you could feel them in your heart. you replied a shy “okay” and smiled as you started to kiss him again. this time the kissed last longer, and began to get steamier and steamier.

chris quickly dominated the kiss, interlocking his tongue with yours. it was messy but you loved it. and it definitely made you wet. chris on the other hand was going insane. more blood instantly began flowing to his dick, making his already erect cock even harder. struggling to hide it, he knew he had to do something. he broke the kiss, making you whine in disappointment.

you got used to the feeling of his pillow soft lips. “i know baby, i know.” chris said as he instantly understood how you were feeling. he began to kiss the side of your lip, then your jawline, moving down to your neck. he started to kiss and suck the soft skin and went harsher and harsher as he went lower and lower.

“can i take this off baby?” he said, motioning to your shirt. “mhm.” you replied, making him frustrated. “i need your words mama.” “yes chris, you can take this off!” you said chuckling a bit. chris’s eyes began to wander and they immediately went to your nipples. them being hard as it was cold in his room. “such a fucking slut not wearing a bra around your bestfriend hm?”

as if you weren’t wet enough, his words immediately had your panties even more soaked. chris dipped his head down as he started to swirl his tongue around your nipples and suck. he began to leave dark purple marks all over your skin, letting you know you were his. a thought began to linger in your mind. were you too young for this? i mean, you guys were only seventeen.

but all thoughts were swept away as chris added stimulation to your clit, using one hand and using the other to massage your right breast. you’ve had only two sexual experiences in your life so far, the first one being a girl and the second a guy, neither being able to satisfy you right. but chris, chris was different. “take your pants off for me ma, panties too.” you immediately obeyed his directions and looked back up at him eager to see what was next “so perfect for me baby, all just for me.” your heart melted.

“lay down f’ me.” you laid down on the bed as you patiently waited for his next move. chris began to take his shirt off and started to kiss all over your body again. starting from your neck down to your stomach, and making the kisses slow and sensual, making sure you were blessed with the right amount of satisfaction. you began to let out whines and moans signaling you wanted more than that, the feeling already being beyond immaculate. chris started to kiss lower and lower and pried open your legs.

he stared for what felt like hours, but was probably only seconds. “oh my fucking gosh ma, you’ve been hiding all this from me?” chris said as he began to lick and suck on your thighs, devouring all the remnants of your arousal. you began to whine even more. that’s when chris ducked his head even lower and began to lick at your entrance. “mmmmm” he groaned at the taste, tasting sweet and saltiness.

he began to flatten his tongue against your clit, making you moan as loud as ever. before you could even get a word out he began to fuck you with his tongue. “h-holy fuck chris!” he started to slurp and suck repeated on your weeping pussy. you looked down at him seeing a mess of your arousal and his spit forming on his face. “yes yes yes! oh myyy, oh my fuck baby” you moaned loudly. “hmmm you like that ma?” chris groaned into your pussy, the vibrations immediately going straight to your core, making you wrap your thighs around his head.

chris instantly put his head up and stared into you. “keep your hips down or i’ll stop. understand?” chris said demandingly. you’ve never seen that side of him, but oh did it turn you on even more. “ ‘m sorry baby just please, please keep going..” your wish was his command as he immediately went back to eating you like he hadn’t eaten in weeks. like a starved lion. the dirtiest slurping, slushing, and gushing sounds could be heard from chris’s room. “ohhh my godddd” you moaned, feeling your orgasm start to build up. chris started to suck faster and faster, it was inhumane at this point. he groaned repeatedly knowing it would go straight to your core. “fuck chris i can’t- i can’t take it!” as soon as the words left your mouth and whipped out his fingers, stuck his head up and said “spit.” in the most devilish tone.

you spat into his hand. “good fucking girl.” chris said, as he stuck two of his fingers into your hole that was practically begging to be fucked with his fingers. maybe even his cock. his began to thrust into you slowly letting you get used to the pain, and then started to go faster, as if there was no tomorrow. you squealed and moaned out of intense pleasure not knowing how much longer you could take it for.

not even being able to think straight, chris added a third finger. he stared at your convulsing body and groaned “take it. take my fucking fingers in that tight fucking pussy of yours like the whore you are.” and that was it. those were the last words you heard before you saw flashing of your squirt exiting your body and your vision going white.

chris enjoyed seeing this, knowing that the pleasure he gave you was so intense that you couldn’t even signify him of when you were about to cum. letting you ride out your high, he slide out his fingers and sucked them, moaning a bit. you looked up at him with the most fucked out look in your eyes. “that was. the hottest. thing. i’ve ever seen.”

“i don’t know how i’m still alive after that. that was amazing chris.” you replied in awe. “you’re amazing.” chris said as he began to lean in and kiss you. “you like the way you taste huh?”

you moaned into the kiss signifying your answer. he broke the kiss saying “you did such a good job for me baby. so so good.” you looked at him and smiled. letting out a small “thank you.” “so..where does that leave us now?” chris says.

he didn’t get to finish yet.

- rosa speaks

hi guys this is my very first fic anddd smut. it is loosely based off of the song ‘softcore’ by my favorite artists of all time the neighbourhood!! this is for @annamcdonalds67 writing comp so when i saw this song up there i was so fucking happy. pls lmk what u think of this n if u want a pt. 2 i’ll happily make one.

- also sorry to all the ppl i tagged that don’t like 2 be tagged if they aren’t notified beforehand, i finished this way later than i was supposed to and i was supposed to dm ppl n ask if they wanted to be tagged but i don’t have time. sorry again but i hope u guys like it! ALSOOO COMMENT A PINK HEART IF U WANNA STAY ON MY TAGLIST FOR THE FUTURE 🩷🩷🩷

@musegyra @recklesssturniolo @stunza @sturnphilia @sturnsdoll @pinksturniolo @suyqa @thesturniolos @hoesformatt @mattscoquette @sturnrockwell @sturn777 @slut4chriss @thenickgirl @m9ttsverse @medilovesmatt @stars4chratt @slutz4sturniolos @mattbf

#chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #smut

[2cupids]

𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘 𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐔𝐄𝐒 | 𝐤. 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

warnings — sugar daddy!hongjoong, readers in her 20s, hongjoong’s in his 40s, pet names, oral (m. receiving), f.ingering, cowgirl,choking, fluff at the end.

sugar daddy!hongjoong who takes you to buy a new dress any time he takes you out for dinner or when you have to attend events with him. you have at least 40 different dresses you could choose from at this point but it doesn’t matter to hongjoong.

when he can’t accompany you to shop for a dress because he has business to attend to, he simply gives you his card and tells you to pick the prettiest one and treat yourself to whatever else you want to that day.

but more often than not, he flies you out to italy to have your dresses custom made. sometimes he’ll send a sketch ahead of you of what he wants to see you in and let you talk with the designer about changing any details that you don’t like.

he wants you to have the best of the best, something other people can’t get their hands on.

sugar daddy!hongjoong who has no shame about renting out the entire floor of a restaurant for just the two of you. when you ask him his reason, he says that he just “prefers it this way.”

sugar daddy!hongjoong that lets you pick out your own penthouse.

he brings you along with him while he goes around looking at different places, citing the reason being that he’s “expanding his real estate portfolio”.

he’s constantly asking you what you think of each place, whether you could see yourself living there, how you would decorate the place, etc. you think it’s silly when he writes a check to buy the one that you liked the most but you don’t pay it too much mind.

that is until later that day when he hands you the keys.

“it’s all yours baby. i’ve already got movers packing up your old place, they should be here in an hour or two. is that alright with you?”

sugar daddy!hongjoong who loves surprising you with random shopping sprees. he likes surprising you with gifts and all, but he’d rather have you pick exactly what you like.

he could sit watch you try on outfits all day if it means he gets to see the way your eyes sparkle.

sugar daddy!hongjoong that was a bit of tsundere especially when you first met.

he has trouble expressing his love and admiration for you but he actively works to try to get better.

sugar daddy!hongjoong that enjoys sharing his hobbies with you, one of them being customizing clothes and shoes, giving them a personal touch.

you tend to make a mess whenever you work with the art supplies, accidentally getting paint and marker stains all over yourself. you find it bothersome but hongjoong finds it cute. to him, your clumsiness just adds to your charming qualities.

sugar daddy!hongjoong who gets excited whenever you let him choose your next hairstyle. if you’re hesitant about trying a certain style or color, he encourages you to do so, as long as you’re comfortable with it. he’s always complimenting you and praising you.

despite his love of picking your hairstyles, he loves when you decide to just wear your beautiful natural hair as well.

the same thing goes for your nails too. oh, and he always makes sure you get your toes done too so don’t even try to argue with him. if you’re out of the country and need a new set or a fill in, he’ll fly out your chosen nail tech.

sugar daddy!hongjoong that’s like putty in your hands whenever you flutter those pretty lashes of yours at him.

sugar daddy!hongjoong that not only likes to have custom dresses made for you but also have custom lingerie pieces made for you as well.

one of his favorites is an emerald green set with a garter belt and matching lacy stockings that have his initials ‘KHJ’ on the center gore of the bra.

sugar daddy!hongjoong wouldn’t call himself an exhibitionist but he will touch and tease you (discretely) in public settings or where others are present.

like while his chauffeur is driving you home, he’ll let his hand rest on your thigh, letting it slip under your dress and inch closer to your core until his fingers are hovering right in front of your soaked panties.

“don’t make a sound and i’ll fuck you to sleep when we get home.” he whispers in your ear as his fingers move your underwear to the side, finally making contact with your clit.

sugar daddy!hongjoong who possessiveness makes itself known in the bedroom. he wants to hear you tell him that you’re his and that he’s the only one who can make you feel good.

tell him what he wants to hear or he will slow down and eventually stop what he’s doing all together until he gets what he wants. no amount of squirming around on the bed or whining will help you.

“didn’t i ask you a question? tell me whose pussy this is.. or would you rather be left high and dry? your choice baby.”

sugar daddy!hongjoong who thinks you look so pretty when your mouth is full of his dick. he likes to hold your head in place while he fucks your pretty mouth.

“such a good girl for me. gonna stay like that and let me cum down your throat?”

sugar daddy!hongjoong who wraps his hand around your neck while you’re bouncing on his cock and it makes you see stars.

he likes the feeling of your walls clenching around him while you try to focus on riding him, the lack of oxygen slowly getting to you.

sugar daddy!hongjoong that likes it rough but makes sure he takes his time with you often, giving you good old fashioned love-making to remind you of how much he loves and cares for you.

sugar daddy!hongjoong that can be having a terrible day but once he sets eyes on you, his worries and frustration fade away.

sugar daddy!hongjoong who falls in love with you more and more every time he looks into your big, gorgeous eyes.

it’s been more than just a business relationship to him and he’s been feeling that way for a long time now.

he hopes to one day he’ll be lucky enough to be able to call you his wife.

#this is kinda ass sorry y’all #ateez smut #kim hongjoong #hongjoong smut #kim hongjoong smut #ateez hard hours #kpop smut #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez x black reader #kpop x black reader #kpop x poc reader

[inbarfink]

Honestly, first time noticing the names in Simon's contact list I was just like 'haha cute references' and didn't pay it much mind. But looking at them again, and really thinking about them. The Implications here, like Most Things About Simon's Life Right Now, are pretty tragic....

Like, Abracadaniel and Lady Island and Gunter (and BMO if you take into consideration the comic's continuity) are not Simon Petrikov's friends, they were Ice King's friends.

You know, like, yeah, everyone except Marcy knew Ice King way way before they got to know Simon. But at least with folks like Finn, finding out about Simon is a huge reason why he started being kinder and friendlier to him. And Bubblegum probably is only fond of Simon know in spite of him being Ice King.

But Abracadaniel and Lady Island liked Ice King without having any frame-of-reference or concept of 'Simon Petrikov' in their heads. They were Ice King's friends.

And Simon's phone is pretty distinctly, like, a realistic early 2000's cellphone. A total contrast to all the magical/sci-fi/cobbled-together looking cellphones everyone else in Ooo uses

And Ice King himself, I'm pretty sure we've only ever seen him use either a normal-looking landline or the Bananaphone

Not this ordinary Nokia-looking flip-phone, definitely.

So I'm assuming this phone was maybe found buried somewhere in the Past Room, or maybe was unearthed while they were preparing for that '20th Century Man' exhibition and Simon also takes it along for personal use. But either way, Simon had to deliberately put those numbers of Friends of the Ice King in his contact list.

It might be something as simple as having transferred the data from some of Ice King's old communication devices and then just... despite it all Simon just doesn't have the heart to delete these names. The same way you or I might not have it in us to the delete the numbers of friends of ages past or increasingly-distant acquaintances or dead relatives.

Or maybe Simon did try and preserve their friendship at first. Or maybe the friends did. And obviously it didn't work out.

I mean, I can kinda see maybe Simon getting along fine with Lady Island because IK was relatively Grounded interacting with her so maybe the change to Simon won't be that much of a difference to her. ....But that can also create problems if she has a hard time seeing the difference between Simon Petrikov and Ice King, that would really make him uncomfortable.

But there really is zero chance Simon managed to keep things going normal with Abracadaniel. A Wizard who originally bonded with Ice King because he saw him as a cool Wizard. Not to mention Gunter is currently a living incarnation of the very Crown that cursed Simon in the first place and a manifestation of Gunter's love of Ice King

so... yeah, I think in Simon's current state any interaction he had with those two was unbearably awkward and just another thing that will make him miss being Ice King in a twisted way.

And yet... despite wanting so badly to define himself as distinctive and different from Ice King ("I didn't write those! Ice King wrote those!") and to not be reminded of him.... Simon still keeps all these people in his contact list.

#adventure time #atimers #adventure time spoilers #adventure time fionna and cake #fionna and cake #fionna and cake spoilers #fionna and cake series #fionna and cake show #at spoilers #simon petrikov #adventure time simon #simon adventure time

[melonsap]

Archwizard Gale lore???

Okay, SO! My personal headcanons for Gale's powers, both as archwizard and Chosen of Mystra, are based upon the following:

D&D makes a distinction between "archmage" and "archwizard," with the former being a spellcaster dedicated to the arcane arts and either: the counsel of royalty, a lich tyrant, or a reclusive hermit, all with multiple apprentices, and the latter being "an arcane spellcaster of extremely high power who successfully claimed a floating enclave," that specification coming from the time of Netheril.

Gale is NOT royal counsel, NOT pursuing lichdom, NOT a hermit (willingly), does NOT have apprentices when he first makes the claim, and does NOT have a floating enclave.

Despite these, he still claims "archwizard" as a title. This is significant, especially from Waterdeep, where the most powerful wizards in the world gather, including Laeral Silverhand (another of Mystra's Chosen, immortal to a degree, and Open Lord of Waterdeep) and Vajra Safahr (current Blackstaff and Archmage of Waterdeep).

Bonus points for his significance, he is Gale of Waterdeep. His personally chosen moniker marks him as outstanding among Waterdhavians. There might be a handful of people named Gale in Waterdeep, but there is only one Gale of Waterdeep. This is further backed up by Lorroakan recognizing him, with his only reason for Gale being lesser than someone who supposedly figured out immortality being that Gale was Mystra's discarded lapdog.

Gale is skilled in all manner of magic. This is confirmed directly in his epilogue, where you can question him about his choice teaching the School of Illusion, and he says that he wanted to teach ALL the classes there, but the staff told him no. That includes schools you wouldn't normally associate with him, like Divination and Necromancy.

Based on all of that, I've decided that "archwizard," as Gale means it, is a term referring to a wizard who's multiclassed into all their subclasses.

Does this make him overpowered? Yes. But he's an archwizard, prodigy, and Chosen, he's MEANT to be within the bounds of his own lore.

In addition, I also believe him to be an untrained Storm Sorcerer, based upon the following:

Sorcerers and wizards differ in that sorcerers know magic intrinsically, while wizards study it to use it.

When talking to Halsin as Origin Gale, you can tell him that as a baby, you summoned a whole pack of rabbits. Presumably, baby Gale was NOT reading and comprehending arcane textbooks.

Gale has an intrinsic understanding of the Weave, by his own admission, saying he could compose it rather than just control it. He was also casting third level spells like Fireball at eight years old.

Gale's theme is all about storms: his name is Gale, he occasionally says "A rough tempest I will raise" in combat, almost all his official art has him controlling lightning, and his robe is thunder purple. This continues into God!Gale's design, where he has literal glowing lightning bolts framing his eyes, and his outfit is lightning blue.

K'ha'ssji'trach'ash: On his own, the mephit is pretty self-contained; it's a magma mephit capable of revealing the true form of a True Ressurection scroll. However, the key to getting him to do this is to respond to the question "what is my name" in Ignan with the correct answer. After which, K'ha'ssji'trach'ash says "T'i n'uthrantha m'ahthra Gale." We don't know what this means, but it's clear that he's talking to us, about Gale, possibly thanking us or asking us to pass a message along. This implies that he doesn't speak Common, or else he would, because we answered correctly. Why do I bring this up? Storm Sorcerers have an innate ability called Wind Speaker, which allows them to speak Primordial (including Aquan, Auran, Ignan, and Terran). Thus, Gale can speak to/understand K'ha'ssji'trach'ash, despite his known/studied languages being Common, Celestial, Giant, and Draconic.

Because he's untrained, and rather than Storm Sorcery being just a Lv1 flavor bit that does little, I've decided that Gale has access to the class features of Storm Sorcery without access to its spell slots or Metamagic, that way it's reflective of his power without training.

With both of these conclusions, both archwizard and sorcerer, I've decided to pick and choose which class features are from which iteration of both classes, because BG3 and official D&D have a few key differences that were mostly changed for gameplay reasons. I've then taken those and added more flavor to them, based on the already-given flavor of D&D and effects of BG3, doing away with the mechanical side of things for storytelling reasons.

On top of this, because the maximum level you can reach in BG3 is Lv12, and we know that the Orb consumes "the greatest of [his] talents," I've decided that the Orb consumes any ability beyond Lv12 until its removal.

That being said, beyond whatever spells and slots you care to give him, the powers I think Gale has pre-tadpole are:

Abjuration

Arcane Ward: When Gale casts Abjuration spells, residual magic shields him from the worst of incoming hits

Projected Ward: Gale can extend Arcane Ward to someone nearby instead of himself

Improved Abjuration: On short rest, Gale can strengthen Arcane Ward to sustain itself beyond a single hit

Evocation

Sculpt Spells: Gale can control his Evocation spells and keep them from harming allies

Potent Cantrip: Gale can force enemies that resist his cantrips to take half damage from them anyways

Empowered Evocation: Gale's Evocation spells are particularly deadly (based on +INT modifier to damage rolls)

Necromancy

Grim Harvest: Gale can harness the power released when a spell kills a creature to heal himself, UNLESS it's undead or a construct

Undead Thralls: Animate Dead: Gale can reanimate a corpse

UT: Additional Undead: Gale can efficiently harness the power it would take to reanimate one corpse to reanimate two corpses with Animate Dead

UT: Better Summons: Gale's reanimated dead can take more of a beating than others' dead

Inured to Undeath: Gale's been exposed to necromancy enough that he's resistant to necrotic damage, and his life force capacity can't be reduced (this one in particular helps with the "Netherese bile" flowing through his veins)

Conjuration

Create Water: Gale can call forth rain at will (BG3's feature over D&D's to align more with storm sorcery)

Benign Transposition: Teleport: Gale can teleport up to 30ft, and can use that to swap places with an ally

Focused Conjuration: Gale's concentration on conjuration spells can't break due to pain

Enchantment

Hypnotic Gaze: So long as Gale holds eye contact with someone, he can charm them into stopping everything they're doing and staring at him in a daze

Instinctive Charm: Reflexively, Gale can make a split-second charm attempt to redirect an attack at someone directly nearby

Split Enchantment: Gale can efficiently harness the power it would take to enchant one person and instead enchant two targets at once

Divination

Portent: Gale can focus and gain split-second glimpses into the immediate future (such as the next blow about to be thrown in a fight)

Expert Divination: Casting divination comes naturally enough to Gale that he can cast divination spells using a lower spell slot

Third Eye: Gale can increase his powers of perception and gain a very limited Darkvision/Ethereal vision at will, as well as read any language

Illusion

Improved Minor Illusion: Gale can cast illusory effects with incredible ease

See Invisibility: Gale's experience with illusions lets him detect invisibility spells at work, focus on them, and see through them

Illusory Self: Gale can create an identical double of himself reflexively to confuse opponents

Transmutation

Experimental Alchemy: Using transmutation magic, Gale can more efficiently refine potion ingredients, occasionally enough to create a second potion

Transmuter's Stone: Gale can lock some of his transmutation magic into a stone, granting whoever holds it an effect of his choice from the following: Constitution proficiency, Darkvision, extra speed, resistance to acid/cold/fire/lightning/thunder damage

Shapechanger: Gale can polymorph himself once a day without consuming a spell slot (only into beasts with a CR of 1 or less)

Storm Sorcery

Wind Speaker: Gale can speak, read, and write Primordial (Aquan, Auran, Ignan, and Terran)

Tempestuous Magic: Gale can summon gusts of wind around him immediately after casting a spell greater than a cantrip. These winds are strong enough to propel him in flight for ten feet

Heart of the Storm: Gale has resistance to lightning and thunder damage. In addition, whenever he casts a spell that deals lightning or thunder damage, the magic that erupts is stormy and more powerful than other kinds of magic at equal level

Storm Guide: Gale can subtly control the weather around him, causing rain to stop falling in a 20 foot sphere centered on him, or wind to blow in a different direction in a 100 foot sphere centered on him

Feats

These are based on what I, personally, think make the most sense for him pre-tadpole:

Ability Increase: +2 to INT score

Elemental Adept: Thunder: Spells/attacks ignore resistance to thunder, and when a spell he casts causes thunder damage, it can't critically fail

Elemental Adept: Lightning: Spells/attacks ignore resistance to lightning, and when a spell he casts causes lightning damage, it can't critically fail

Okay, so Gale's crazy powerful, right? What could he have possibly lost that's greater than all this?

Well...

Abjuration: Spell Resistance: Gale was in tune enough with the Weave that he could resist spells (as well as gaining advantage on saving throws against them)

Evocation: Overchannel: Gale could deal maximum damage on a 1-5 level spell without ill effect on first cast, but suffered unresisted necrotic damage when using it again

Necromancy: Command Undead: Gale could bring undead made by other wizards under his control

Conjuration: Durable Summons: Gale could give anything he summoned a temporary shield against damage (30 temp HP)

Enchantment: Alter Memories: Gale could make someone unaware they were charmed by him, as well as make them forget something that happened during that charmed period

Divination: Greater Portent: Gale used to be able to predict more split second decisions ahead with ease

Illusion: Illusory Reality: Gale used to be able to pull shadow magic together into illusions and make them, temporarily, real. He can still do a limited version of this, but only via concentration to keep the threads together (hence the "anatomically correct" illusory wizard in the Drow twins scene; shadow magic is NOT the same as the Shadow Weave)

Transmutation: Master Transmuter: Gale could consume magic stored in his transmuter's stone in one go, using it to transmute one object into another, remove curses, diseases, and poisons, raise the dead, or reduce a creature's apparent age by up to 30 years

Storm Sorcery: Storm's Fury: Gale could react with lightning damage when struck physically Wind Soul: Gale was immune to lightning and thunder damage, could fly at a speed of 60 feet, and could reduce his flying speed to 30 feet for 1 hour to make four additional people fly

Yeah. Ouch. And that's not even including his former Chosen abilities.

Gale's Chosen abilities

Silver Fire: Gale could command pure energy of the Weave in the form of silver-white flame, which, at his command, could destroy anything in its path, banish dead magic areas, restore torn Weave, purge external magic and psionic effects from his own body, teleport without error to the last location he used the ability at, or cast spells without verbal, somatic, or material components

Mantle: Gale could cast the dangerous Mantle spell without suffering any ill effects, while other wizards casting the spell would suffer a drain of life force as long as it persisted

Weave Detection: Gale could detect magic's presence without the use of a spell

Weave Tapping: Gale could cast high level spells repeatedly without losing a spell slot, although this was discouraged by Mystra

On the page for Mystra's Chosen abilities, it says that sometimes her Chosen gained an immunity to magic, as well as disease and poison. I don't think Gale was so lucky, however; in the House of Healing, he mentions that he once turned himself in to a hospice in Waterdeep for a "bout of ruddy pox." Him having turned himself in implies he was an adult at the time, and should, therefore, already be Mystra's Chosen.

All that to say: behold, Gale of Waterdeep, in his original splendor. How the mighty have fallen.

#bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #long post #ask bee #the neat thing about the storm sorcery stuff is that it's JUST close enough in proximity to what gale's already capable of #that he probably didn't even give it a second thought #he can fly at lv18? he could fly at 8yo. doesn't matter #lightning and thunder immunity? well mystra's chosen get magical immunity sometimes. must be that! #his lightning/thunder spells are stronger? they're his specialties! he studied those! #i love it

[headkiss]

anna <3 honey <3 hiii <3 i have a request if you’re up for it?

inspired by your latest shy!reader x eddie fic where it’s her first day at hawkins high— shy!reader being all heart eyes for eddie who pretty much worships the ground she walks on but somehow is oblivious to her feelings even though he flirts constantly just to see her get flustered. he doesn’t notice she’s only all sweet and giggly and nervous around him, though. she’s generally extremely shy so eddie figures that’s why, but it’s truly because she’s head over heels for him 🥹 a cutesy friends to lovers

harmonia my love !!! thank u sm for requesting i hope u like it this one’s for u <333 (the other shy!reader blurb) | 0.7k of fluff and shy!reader

You walk the unfamiliar halls in search of your next class. So far, unsuccessfully.

There’s a debate in your head: is it more embarrassing to be late to your class because you couldn’t find it, or to ask for directions like you’re a tourist in a new city?

You figure that embarrassing yourself in front of a class full of people is much, much worse than just one person. The next part is just figuring out who to ask.

Deciding to avoid any groups (even looking at them makes your heartbeat jump a little), you scan the hall for anyone that looks approachable.

For some reason, you land on the boy with long, dark curls and a tattoo of bats on his forearm. Yeah, super approachable. He’s alone, leaning next to what you’re guessing is his open locker.

You force your feet to carry you towards him.

“Sorry, could you maybe tell me where English is?”

“Wha- oh.” Eddie turns around to find you, a face he's never seen—a pretty one, at that—talking to him of all people. “Hi. Yeah, why don’t I walk you?”

“You don’t have to do that.”

Your voice is soft, quiet enough that Eddie probably wouldn’t have heard you if he wasn’t so focused on listening.

“Who’s your teacher?” You tell him, and he smiles, “me too. See, I’m going there anyway. It’s no problem.”

It’s then that you’re hit with the realization of how attractive he is. His eyes and the lashes that frame them, the smile that’s extra sweet compared to his style, the guitar pick that hangs from a chain around his neck.

The best you can do then is nod, untucking your hair from behind your ears to try and hide your face.

“So, why’d you move to Hawkins?” He asks, shutting his locker and nodding for you to follow him.

“Um, for my mom’s work.”

“Yeah? Do you like it here?”

“It’s different.”

You stick to short answers, not because you don’t want to give him better ones, but because you’re terrified of doing something you’ll kick yourself over for days.

“That’s one way of putting it,” he says, sending you a wink.

You laugh softly, a girlish giggle. It’s music to his ears, and he plans to draw the sound from you again and again.

You nod, looking down at your feet in the silence that follows, unsure how to fill the gaps. In your distraction, you bump shoulders with someone. A boy, probably an athlete, because it’s enough to knock you into Eddie.

He holds your upper arm gently to steady you, his hand warm, his rings cool.

“Sorry,” you say quickly.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. You okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine.”

Despite your answer he keeps his hand where it is. He’s not dragging you along, nor is his hold tight. It’s so soft that you peek down at your shoes again to hide the look on your face.

Eddie thinks he might have dreamt you up. You in your sweet dress and mary-janes. You with a small smile he wants to see widen. He thinks you’re adorable, and he plans to keep talking if only to make you cutely flustered again.

He drops his hand from your arm when you make it to the door of your classroom to hold an arm out welcoming you inside. You miss the warmth of it.

You sit down at the back of the class, in the corner closest to the windows, hoping it’s not somebody else’s spot.

Eddie follows you and sits atop of your desk until the bell rings.

The teacher walks in and seems to notice Eddie’s presence right away, “Munson, what are you doing in my class?”

“I thought you had this class?” You whisper. He sends you a wink in return.

“Just visiting, sir,” he says, standing up and letting the attention fall on him. He can tell you’d be uncomfortable if it was on you more than it already is as a new student. Besides, he’s used to it, even if it’s usually in a negative way.

“Get to your own class, won't you?”

Eddie salutes, strolling to the door seemingly without a care at all. You watch him the whole time, and just before he turns the corner, he looks over his shoulder and smiles at you.

Did he really lie about being in your class just so you’d let him walk you? You sink down in your chair and smile at your desk.

#eddie munson #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson blurbs #eddie munson boyfriend #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson requests #eddie munson request #eddie x you #eddie x y/n #eddie x reader #eddie x shy!reader #stranger things eddie #eddie stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie blurbs

[phoward89]

Based on this ask

Warning ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is his own warning, child gets hurt (nothing major), unruly mobs, poison, hanging tree

“Daddy!” Cassian Xanthos excitedly exclaimed, running over to Coriolanus as you followed behind him, your belly just starting to swell with your second child so you're still able to keep up with your little blonde rugrat.

“Did Mommy bring you here to help me run the country, Cass?” Your husband asked your son, who was his spitting image at 4 years old. The little boy had the same light platinum blonde curls, the same baby blue eyes, the same prominent nose, long legs, and toothy grin.

A grin that was missing something.

“I finally lost my tooth!” Cassian proudly announced, climbing up onto your husband's lap as he sat at his desk in his presidential office.

“Yeah? Let me see it.” Coriolanus beamed, giving your son a proud smile.

You couldn't help, but to melt at the interaction you were watching unfold before your very eyes. Coriolanus, despite being a cold, callous, stern, calculated, iron-fisted leader, was a very loving husband and father. Around you and your son, he was a different man. A man that let his guard down, let himself have emotions.

Coriolanus presented himself to the public as a hard man and rarely talked about his family. The only ones that knew how much his family meant to him was the presidential mansion staff. And they knew better than to cross their boss. The staff knew that if they wanted to keep breathing and assure that their families didn't wind up banished to the districts that it's best to ignore how soft the cold hearted President Snow was with his family.

“Cass, put your tooth under your pillow tonight and the tooth fairy will collect your tooth; give you a reward.” Your husband told your son, making the little boy smile and giggle in excitement.

Coriolanus made sure to incorporate all of those little traditions he grew up with. The ones Grandma’am had shared with him when he was a little orphan boy, growing up alone and afraid during a war.

“Last time I lost a tooth, the tooth fairy gived me a gold coin.” Cassian. Xandros chirped.

Coriolanus cringed at hearing his son's improper grammar. Looking down at his boy, your husband corrected him with, “It's the tooth fairy gave me a gold coin, not gived.”

“Okay.” Cassian simply smiled.

Looking away from the little boy in his lap and over to you, Coriolanus asked, “Have the maids finished packing our bags for our trip to 12?”

Your husband, being the President, had to take trips to the districts to deal with things. It was mostly meetings with PK commanders and mayors, sometimes a few other things such as productivity at a factory or a mine. But he never went into full details with you about it. You usually just had to deal with him bitching about the incompetent people he had to meet with.

You also got stuck attending dinners with the PK commanders, mayors, and their families. Coryo always brought his family along on his business trips for that very reason. So that his family could smooze with the family of whoever he was stuck meeting with. Your husband was all about networking.

“Yes.” You nodded, leaning against the edge of his desk and resting your hand on your barely there baby bump. “Paloma, placed the bags in the foyer of the living quarters; I think the chauffeur's loading them into the car soon.

“As soon as I'm done with my paperwork we'll head out.” Coriolanus informed you, picking up his pen and resuming his paperwork while letting his son sit on his lap.

“Okay, but why do we have to go to 12? We both hate it there, can't you just send one of your staff to handle whatever mine dispute is going on?”

“Darling, I can't send an assistant. I need to handle this myself because, apparently, the last time I sent an assistant nothing got done.”

“Daddy, why you and Mommy hate 12?” Your son innocently asked your husband.

You narrowed your eyes at Coryo, silently warning him that the story of you two’s past in 12 wasn't fitting for the ears of a 4 year old little boy.

Yea… Telling your son that Coriolanus and you met each other when he was a Peacekeeper (and that he was supposed to be Lucy Gray’s beau), that he paid for an apartment you shared (he was supposed to live in the barracks, but he always seemed to sneak in and out before wakeup call), and brought you back to the Capitol with him wasn't a good idea. He was too young; wouldn't understand.

Hell, you're hoping that Cassian never learns the truth about how you and Coryo got together. It's just too complicated. Maybe even somewhat embarrassing in a way.

Your husband gave your son his old puppy plushie from his childhood. It was a plushie that your son slept with. He had to take it with him during trips, or else he'd be up all night crying without it. Cassian Xandros couldn't sleep without his plushie, Puppers.

And Puppers couldn't be packed in the suitcase. No, your son has to carry that plushie with him when going somewhere. Sticking it in the luggage gives him panic attacks.

And dealing with a 4 year old having a panic attack’s no easy feat. Especially when that child's the carbon copy of Coriolanus Snow. Oh boy…the panic attacks that Cassian would have over thinking his Puppers was lost were on a whole different level.

Like the end of the world, the 2nd apocalypse, and WW4 type of level. The little boy was unconsolable while having one. You would always hold your son and assure him that everything was fine. You'd whisper reassuring words to him and comfort him while your husband would find the puppy plushie and shove it into your son's hands.

Safe to say, it was easier to just let Cassian carry Puppers the puppy plushie onto the train with him then to pack it up.

“Daddy, did you bring Puppers on trips when you was little?” Cassian Xandros asked his father while sitting on his lap, looking out the window of the Presidential train car your family had just boarded half an hour earlier.

“It's when you were little, Cass.” Coriolanus corrected your son’s grammar, like he always did.

You just smiled from your spot on the sofa, eating some fruit while watching your favorite boys. They're two peas in a pod. You know that Cassian Xandros is most likely going to follow in his father's political footsteps when he's older. You can see it already.

“No.” Coryo shook his head. A faraway look appeared in your husband's icy blue eyes as he looked out the window over your son's head of platinum curls. Looking down at the little boy in his lap, a thin line of a smile appeared on his face as he explained, “I didn't go on trips as a little boy because things were scary back then. Panem wasn't safe like it is now.”

Looking at his dad, who was his hero, Cassian asked, “And you make it safe, right daddy? Cause you's President?”

“Yes, your daddy makes the country very safe because he's the president.” You answered Cassian before Coriolanus had the chance to correct his grammar.

And it's true, your husband had put many laws, rules, and regulations in effect when it came to the law and order of the country; to keep Panem safe. To keep the country running smoothly. Your husband had seen many horrors in his short life, more than you and that's something considering that you grew up in the districts. Your husband had an obsessive need for control and order; it showed in his political policies.

You never got into it. As First Lady your job was to just smile, go to charity events, host tea parties, etc. Oh, you also collected gossip for your husband, that he used to make decisions about who he should and shouldn't eliminate. But, as First Lady, your role wasn't as a ruler- that was your husband's job. Coriolanus was the President, he oversaw the country and you’re just his sidekick.

“You're mommy’s right.” Coryo smiled, only to ruffle his son's light blonde curls and correct his grammar, once again, with, “And it's because you're President, not cause you’s President, Cass.”

The trip from Capitol City, Panem to District 12, Panem was a very long and boring journey. Traveling from the Rockies to Appalachia was always a soul sucking experience. You and your husband avoid traveling to District 12 like the plague, but unfortunately it couldn't be avoided. It seems that the route was long and full of nothing to look at, but a few old crumbling ruins of ancient Pre-Panem cities.

Cassian Xandros, being a little boy, was excited when the train passed by the remnants of the ancient places. “Mommy, Daddy, what District that?”

Never looking up from his reports, Coriolanus told your son, “It's not a district son, it's the ancient city of Pittsburgh.”

“What happened?” The little boy, who inherited both his father's looks and thirst for knowledge, asked.

“Don't worry about it, buddy. You'll learn about it when you're older in school.”

“But daddy-” Cassian Xandros began, only for the president to sternly cut him off with, “I told you not to worry about it, Cassian.”

Seeing the dejected look on your son's face paired with his low lip quivering made you decide that your husband needed a talking to. That you're going to straighten him out. So, giving your son a soft smile, you suggested in a sweet and motherly tone, “Why don't you go to the dining car and ask an Avox for some ice cream? Hmm?”

‘Okay, mommy.” Cassian nodded, a ghost of a smile on his lips, before taking off to go get his ice cream. A treat that you knew would make him feel better; would also get him out of the suite long enough for you to tell off your husband.

As soon as the door to the train car closed, you gave your husband a disgruntled look and told him, ‘Coriolanus, I understand that you're tense because we're almost at 12, but that doesn't give you the right to snap at Cassian. He's just curious about why there's ancient ruins outside of the Districts along the train tracks.”

“I need to prepare for my upcoming meetings, darling. I don't have time to conduct history lessons with a 4 year old right now.” Coryo said dismissively, as if everything you just told him wasn't important. As if his goddamn paperwork was more important.

Well it wasn't and you're going to let him know that.

“You're not the only one that's on edge about this visit to 12, Coryo.” Your said, causing your husband to look at you. Shaking your head, you admitted, “I haven't seen my brother Rein since he disowned me; called me a sellout and a whore when I became your girl. Going back there, not knowing how my family's going to react seeing me as your pregnant First Lady; the mother of your son, terrifies me.”

And your estranged family's opinion of you, after all of these years, did have you worried. You didn't part with Rein and his girlfriend, Ashlie, on the best of terms. They made you choose between them and a Capitol born and bred peacekeeper, Private Snow. You, in the end, picked Coryo. The man that took care of you while you lived in 12, who took you with him when he got discharged and sent back to the Capitol. The man who married you despite the way his Grandma’am turned her nose down at you.

The last time you saw your brother it was when you were on stage with your husband while he was giving a speech during a presidential campaign tour. Although district citizens can't vote, Capitol citizens and those serving the Capitol in the Peacekeepers can. So, Coryo decided to do a district tour to boost morale and votes of the Peacekeepers. He even made sure to use his background as one along with the fact that his father was General Crassus Snow during the election too.

But that was around the time you discovered you were pregnant, so…

“But I'm not taking it out on Cass; I won't sit back and watch you do that, Coryo.” You told your husband, needing him to know that your son couldn't be an emotional punching bag.

Setting his paperwork aside, Coryo stood up and sighed, “You're brother, Rein, and that ratty whore of his are idiots.” Going over to the sofa and taking a seat next to you, your husband snaked an arm around you, bringing you to lean your head against his chest. “I'm sorry that being with me caused such a rift between you and your family; you should've told me you've been feeling apprehensive about this trip.”

“Coryo, you know that I get over emotional from pregnancy hormones. I didn't want to bother you with my feelings about this trip.” You told Coriolanus, feeling like you're ready to burst into tears at any second.

At that very moment, your son walked back into the train car with an ice cream cone in his hand. Seeing you so sad and his daddy trying to make you feel better, Cassian Xandros went over to Coriolanus, only to hold his ice cream out and say, “Daddy, mommy’s sad. Give her my ice cream; then she'll be happy.”

“No, you eat it, sweetie.” You told your son while holding your husband's hand; preventing him from taking the ice cream.

You knew that Coryo would take the ice cream under the guise of giving it to you, but would eat it himself once you turned the treat down. Your husband has an odd relationship with free food…

“Do you want Puppers instead? He always makes me feel better.” Cassian asked, licking his chocolate ice cream cone that had every single once covered by chocolate sprinkles. That was definitely something your son got from his Snow genes. The love of chocolate.

“Oh, I'm fine, Cassian. Your baby sister's just making me a little dramatic.”

“But I thought Auntie Tigris said that daddy the drama queen in the family.”

“Looks like visits with Auntie Tigris are coming to an end.” Coriolanus coldly muttered under his breath.

“President Snow, Sir, we’ve arrived.” A Peacekeeper announced, walking into the presidential train car once the train has stopped.

“Thank you.” Your husband nodded, only to stand up and look towards you and your son. “It's time to go meet the mayor.”

“Is it still Mayor Lipp?” You wondered, standing up with your son and going over to Coriolanus.

You haven't set foot in 12 since Coriolanus did a presidential campaign tour years ago, before you had Cassian, so you had no idea what was going on politically in the district. Honestly, you didn't care either. But, you did need to know who the mayor was since that's who was housing your family for your visit.

“Yes, that wretched fool’s still the mayor.”

“Mister President, Sir.” The Peacekeeper acknowledged your husband, only to turn to you and say, “First Lady, Ma’am.”, before stating, “A Peacekeeper, says his name's Smiley, is here to escort you to the barracks.”

A puzzled look appeared on your face. “The barracks? But we're staying with the mayor.”

“According to this Smiley, Ma’am, the Commander here in 12 has made new arrangements for the Presidential family.”

“Smiley’ll tell us what's going on, darling. Don't worry, we'll be fine.” Coriolanus assured you, since he didn't want you to get yourself in a tizzy while in your delicate condition. He was always so protective of you when you're carrying his child.

But there was a need to worry. Unknown to Coriolanus and you, the miners were striking and protesting. And not just a few of them, but all of them. Apparently they were tired of working long hours underground in dangerous circumstances without being properly compensated.

The protests started at the mines, but by the time your train arrived at the depot, the station was swarming with District 12 miners demanding to be treated like human beings instead of slave labor. Peacekeepers were lined up, keeping them at bay with rifles drawn and threats to shoot. It was so bad that the Commander was afraid for the safety of Coriolanus and his family. Honestly, none of you should be there, but it was too late to cancel the meeting between the President, the mining bosses, the mayor, and the Commander of District 12.

So, the Commander sent Smiley to greet President Coriolanus Snow and to inform him of what's going on. To act as a makeshift bodyguard because the two men are friends.

Well, your husband only used his old bunkmate as a contact to keep tabs on District 12, but friend sounded much better.

“Coryo…” You trailed off, looking up at your husband. You were tucked into his side as he had an arm protectively wrapped around you, hand on your round belly. His other arm was holding your son against his chest in a vice tighter than that of a boa constrictor.

Cassian Xandros had his head buried in his father's chest, clutching tightly to his puppy plushie. The loud noise of the crowd of miners and protesters was clearly frightening him. To be honest, it frightened you too.

These people crowding around you were out for blood. You could sense that if the Peacekeepers weren't keeping them at bay, then the crowd would rush you and your family; tear you apart limb by limb- because they're angry at how they're living compared to how your family's living.

“We'll be at the van soon; then we'll go to the base and won't have to deal with the protestors anymore.” Coryo assured you, keeping a stern look on his face as he led the way towards the van as angry miners and their families shouted profanities. Smiley was up ahead, clearing the way, while the personal guards (peacekeepers) that came on the trip from the Presidential Palace flanked you.

It felt so unsettling, this short walk from the depot to the van that'll take your family to the base. To safety.

It should've been easy to get to the van, considering all the presence of the peacekeepers, but it wasn't. Because nothing in your life, in Coriolanus' life, can be easy.

No….

Because right before you reached the Peacekeepers’ van, the unthinkable happened.

“Should’ve stayed in the Capitol, sellout whore!” You heard your older brother's voice yell before feeling spit land on your cheek.

President Coriolanus Snow should've keep walking, guiding his family thru the crowd to the nearby van, but hearing his brother-in-law call his First Lady a sellout whore made him see red. Made him furious.

Motioning to one of the presidential Peacekeeper guards, Coriolanus ordered, “Arrest that man for assaulting my wife, First Lady Y/N Snow.”

The peacekeeper nodded, only to grab your brother (who put up a good struggle) and cuff him. Your brother was cussing up a storm while the crowd was screaming to let him go, that Rein didn't do anything. The protesters screamed that Rein was innocent; was being falsely arrested by the cruel, dictator President Snow.

But you know what Rein did to cause his arrest. He insulted you and spit in your face. In Coryo's eyes was that assault; something unforgivable.

But the crowd of miners and protesters (some of which were rebels and their sympathizers) didn't see it that way. All they saw was an ‘innocent’ man being carted away.

You don't know how it started, but suddenly people broke thru the lines and tried to swarm you, your husband, and your son. Smiley and your Capitol Peacekeeper guards were beating back the crowd so that your husband could whisk his family to the Peacekeepers van.

And you would've made it to the van unscathed to, if it wasn't for the moltov cocktail that somebody threw at your husband as he ushered you towards the van.

You heard the crash of the bottle and smelted the chemicals before your son's cries of pain sounded out. Turning around, as one of the Peacekeepers by the van shoved you into it, you saw flames licking at your son's back and at your husband's arm. A piece of glass from the broken moltov bottle was embedded in your husband's jaw as blood flowed freely from it.

A pair of Peacekeepers rushed over to your husband, patting the flames out of both his arm and your son's back.

“Daddy, it hurts.” Your son cried, referring to his boiled flesh.

‘Radio the hospital on base, I want the best treatment for my son.” President Snow ordered the peacekeeper that was pushing him towards the van, where you were sitting anxiously.

“Mister President, Sir, we'll get him to the hospital on base right away.” The peacekeeper assured your husband as he joined you in the van.

Coriolanus just nodded at the peacekeeper, causing the man to hop into the back of the van. You and Coriolanus tried your best to soothe your son as the peacekeeper sitting next to your husband barked for the driver to get to base; to radio the on base hospital to let them know that President Snow's son is suffering a burn on his back from the mob’s attack.

Of course, the peacekeeper driving to the base did as he was told. So, when your family arrived at PK Base D12 a stretcher with a medic and a doctor was waiting for your son.

Coryo was holding Cassian’s puppy plushie so hard, you thought the thing’s head was going to pop off and the stuffing would fly out, as the two of you were escorted into your son's hospital room by his attending nurse. His burns weren't bad enough for surgery, but they were bad enough that they needed cleaned, treated with ointment, and bandaged. The nurse explained that Cassian Xandros was asleep due to a dose of morphling he was given for the pain.

Despite him being asleep and on pain meds, you and Coryo just had to see him. Had to sit with him. Your baby boy was hurt, you both needed to be by his side.

Coriolanus might've been a lot of things, but he was a very loving and devoted husband; father. Seeing his son hurt because people didn't like him made him furious. He didn't care if somebody went after him, but going after his family was an entirely different thing.

And those District dogs that wanted prime rib instead of the scraps they got for mining coal all damn day are going to pay. They were going to pay dearly for hurting his son.

Because nobody hurts what's his and gets away with it.

Coriolanus canceled his meetings concerning the mine production, only to have the mine bosses rounded up in the middle of the night and thrown into jail. The reason? Well, they allowed their workers to turn into a violent mob; they didn't keep them in line. 

The President ordered the mine bosses to be executed at the hanging tree for being an accessory to the crimes of their mining employees.

Talk about executions…

President Snow had 100 miners rounded up and sent to the gallows as punishment for what happened to your son. It didn't matter that those people weren't the ones that threw the moltov cocktail. They were disgruntled district 12 citizens. They protested and pushed back; causing a rebellion. 

They're rebels.

Rebels! 

So they had to hang to serve as an example; a lesson on what happens when one goes against the Capitol. Dares to bite the hand that feeds it.

And your older brother, Rein. 

Well…

Your husband's currently having a meeting with him in his jail cell. 

“Heard you hung 100 innocent people.” Rein told Coriolanus as the imposing platinum blonde devil took set a thermos down on the table your brother was chained too.

“Those scum were not innocent. Their little rebellious outburst hurt my son and scared my pregnant wife.” Coriolanus told his brother-in-law, who he hasn't seen in a good 5 years, while taking a seat across from him. “I don't play around when it comes to the safety of my family, Mr. Halvir.” The president told the dark haired man, who had broad shoulders due to years of work in the coal mines, while reaching for the thermos. 

Rein narrowed his Seam grey eyes at President Snow. A man he hates for turning you against your kind, against the district that you were born and raised in. Oh, how your brother hates your husband for being your keeper, for turning you into a Capitol puppet.

Unscrewing the thermos’ lid, Coriolanus made the condescending remark of, “You should know that first hand, considering how I moved Y/N out of your shithole hovel in the Seam once she became mine.” 

“You made her choose between you and us when she was too young to even understand the damning consequences of that choice. I hope your kid brings home somebody you hate; somebody that drives a wedge in your perfectly fucked up Presidential First Family.”  Rein snarled at Coriolanus while the platinum blonde man poured some of the hot tea from the thermos into a plastic cup- that also served as a topper for the thermos.

“Mmm…” Your husband hummed, tasting the tea. “Still hot.” He remarked, setting the tea down in front of your older brother. Gesturing to the plastic cup, Coriolanus simply said, “For you.”

Rein looked between the cup and Coriolanus, only to nod and take it. His chains were long enough to make it possible for him to pick up the cup and bring it to his lips, but short enough to ensure that he couldn't lunge across the table to do the president any harm.

“How's your boy?” Rein asked, sipping on the tea. 

“Why do you care? He's just the product of a Capitol snake and a sellout whore, isn't he?” Coriolanus seethed, hate dripping from every word like venom. Leaning forward, eyes watching the miner intently as he sipped on the tea, he asked, “Do you have any little bastards running around?”

“No.” Rein shook his head. Setting down his cup, he said, “Me and Ashlie decided not to have kids. That it's not worth it, with the risk of reapings and all.”

Coriolanus’ lips twisted into a cruel smile. “Then the Halvir name dies with you.”

Rein's Seam grey eyes flashed with confusion, only for realization to shine in them as he began to feel his throat close up. Clawing at his neck, in a desperate, but useless attempt for air, your brother realized that your husband had poisoned him. He began to feel his blood boil on his body, feel it bubble up from his stomach and travel up his throat. Shaking, he used the last bit of his strength to muster out the word, “Why?”

Coriolanus pulled his handkerchief from his pocket, only to use it to stifle a small, bloody cough. A small side effect of drinking poison, but at least he had taken the antidote prior. He smiled wickedly, a thin layer of crimson staining his teeth, as he told Rein, “Your little stunt caused that crowd to attack me; to hurt my son. Anyone that hurts my family will pay with their lives.” 

Watching the light dim in your brother's eyes as blood pooled uncontrollably from his mouth and nose, your husband leaned over him and whispered, “Snow lands on top.”

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