#they're truly leash babies

[manicpixiefelix]

baby, put your back into it {Farleigh Start/Reader/Oliver Quick}

2/2: think about me while you do it [SMUT]

{ masterpost : 2/2 }

Summary: In which Oliver puts you in your place, and makes you beg to be there.

Need to Know: She/Her. AFAB!Reader. Established FWB Brat!Reader/Brat Tamer!Farleigh

Warnings: PWP!! smut; fingering, oral (M receiving), unprotected sex, dirty talk, lots of arguing, reader is very very bratty, dehumanising language and overall incredibly degrading talk, BDSM, leashes, dacryphilia(crying), reader being treated like a dog, bondage & restraints, creampie, so much begging, sir kink, oliver having the time of his life as a manipulative dom, pet name used for the reader "princess" and being referred to as "good girl"

A/N: 7434 words. never ever as long as i live will i ever write this pairing (farleigh/brat!reader/oliver) again, and not only can you quote me on that, but you can take it to the fucking bank. that being said, i did genuinely LOVE writing this, i think they're dynamic is so incredibly fun to explore, and honestly there's something hot about the mind games they all play on each other. it's just that it takes FUCKING FOREVER for them to do anything because they all hate each other. well, you and farleigh hate oliver and he hates both of you, but you also like to cause problems on purpose which pisses them both off. i love it. i never want to write them again. 10/10 LETS GET WEIRD WITH IT i would love to know what you guys think about this all :) oh also we definitely get heavy on the farleigh/oliver in this as well

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

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Farleigh has always had these long, delicate fingers that Oliver's been fascinated by since they'd met, since he'd grabbed his thigh - so achingly briefly - in their tutor's office and levelled a grin that surely read as apologetic to the professor for running late, but turned so immediately dismissive the minute his gaze flicked to Oliver himself. For so long as Oliver wormed his way into Felix's life, into his circle of friends, that's all Farleigh had been; dismissive looks and long, enticing fingers poised with cigarettes and disdain like he was a model for Marlboro.

But the coldness in Farleigh's eyes turned warmer, especially over the Summer at Saltburn, and Oliver couldn't deny the heat of his frustration didn't have some kind of want pitting in his stomach. Anger and lust have never truly been strangers, at least not if he was judging by the way Farleigh had been looking at him tonight.

Now, Farleigh was looking at you with that heat in his eyes, looking at your parted lips and breathless smile like he wanted to devour you whole after so readily giving in to Oliver's degradation. Then he's watching the gentle way Oliver caresses your face in the moments that follow, and that heat too turns degrading.

"You really have no self respect," he scoffs; the mood shifts sharply to the left. There's that look in your eyes again like you're on the verge of causing more trouble.

"He said I had no manners!" You protested as Farleigh moved back from you, "my etiquette teacher would be rolling in her grave if she heard that!"

"Etiquette teachers aren't a real thing, are they?" Oliver, genuinely baffled enough to be pulled out of his earlier mood, automatically shuffles back as Farleigh gently pushes you over. You land on your stomach with a humph, hands still trapped at the small of your back, though now Oliver can see the skilled, tight way his belt was binding them. It conjures up images of expensive leather contraptions, restraints, and you on display, desperate for a hungry-eyed academic like Farleigh who'd actually put in the work to study how to best tame a beast like you.

"Do you think she ever stops to think why we call her a princess?" Farleigh scoffs in a brief moment of solidarity as he reclines on the bed. Oliver actually, genuinely laughs at that, much to your chagrin, at least until Farleigh's hand, those beautiful fingers, pushing down the waistband of his own boxers to finally give his cock some sorely needed attention. "Don't think your manners are the most scandalous thing you've been a part of tonight," he adds, turning his head to you with a deliciously sly smile, "your etiquette teacher know you beg like that?"

Oliver had caught sight of the way you were pouting, legs kicking ineffectually against the end of the bed considering how you were trapped in your position, like a little worm. You turned your head to face Farleigh with that same sulky expression, like all three of you didn't know exactly what he was talking about.

"My arms hurt," is all the response you give.

"Good," Oliver hadn't meant to say that out loud, nor had he entirely realised how fucking pleased he'd sounded as he'd said it, but it had seemingly escaped him nonetheless. His focus had been caught on the lazy rhythm Farleigh had been using to keep himself hard, but he still found himself enjoying the sound of your complaints, it seemed.

And your reactions to him; the way your fingers curled, the shiver he could see run down the length of your spine, and how quickly you had to press your face into the mattress, most likely embarrassed by whatever Farleigh would have seen in your expression. It seemed Farleigh himself wasn't even immune, cock momentarily twitching in his hand before Oliver realised how long he'd been staring, and that Farleigh's bright yet smug expression had meant he'd definitely noticed.

"You are taking to this remarkably fast," Farleigh sounds almost pleased, almost proud. You tell him to shut the fuck up, face still pressed against the duvet, but can't kick anyone from this angle, much to his ongoing amusement.

Surfacing, but still rather flustered, you announce sharply that you're not touching either of them until you can use your hands again. Oliver remarks that that's the point, and there's a part of him that's far too pleased about how it makes Farleigh laugh too. Of course this sets you off - he should have known - but it's easy enough for Oliver, sitting on his knees beside you on the bed, to keep you from sitting up too far once you've managed to roll over onto your back.

He knows he's different in this light, leaning over you, everything awash with the blue and silver of the night. For just a moment, it's as if you know you're helpless, his hand flat and warm on your chest, on your sternum, and you can see it in his eyes that he thinks you're helpless beneath him too. The chain around his neck hangs like the sword of Damocles above your own throat, and with the blue, searching, hungry eyes of a man who remembers every last cruel remark you'd tossed at him in the past week.

"Can I at least get some water?" You break the moment, and Oliver almost has to laugh, "it's not funny, I'm thirsty and for some reason," you pointedly rolled your eyes, words dripping with sarcasm, attempting to regain some of the composure you liked to carry yourself with, "I can't move my arms."

"Of course, your highness," Oliver briefly acquiesces, lips twitching into a smile as he made his way to the adjoining bathroom, hoping their was some kind of cup in their. Re-joining the room, he finds Farleigh to be amused, and you to still be on your back, annoyed -

"- not kidding, I'm not doing anything with either of you if you don't take this belt off of my damn hands," you were still insisting. Farleigh just grinned.

"Yeah, Miss Green-Light-Princess, we'll see about that."

Considering how your expression scrunched up to something almost flustered, and you didn't have any kind of comeback, it was safe to say you were still on board, just as Farleigh was delighted to call you out on it. Oliver reintegrates himself, sits himself on the edge of the bed and wears a little smile even as you call him your hero with more bitter sarcasm than he's ever heard from anyone in his life.

"Sit up," so gentle, so opposite of the ways he's been speaking to you just before he'd left; Farleigh is regarding him curiously, but you just roll your eyes. Now that Oliver knew inside and out - pun entirely intended - you were deliciously predictable. Easy to lull into a false sense of superiority.

"I can't."

"Roll over," the sweetness is quickly disappearing. For a brief moment, Farleigh's gaze meet's Oliver's, and he knows exactly what Oliver's doing, even if you haven't clued in. There's a spark of devilish glee that they share in this moment, but Oliver can't let it show on his face.

"What?"

"Roll over, I'll help," Oliver's smile doesn't reach his eyes, but you dubiously agree. Perhaps you think he'll undo the restraints around your wrists. Of course he won't, you should know better than that.

With you obediently on your stomach, Oliver puts the water on the nightstand. One hand goes to your shoulder, the other holds your shoulder.

"Now princess," he murmurs low in your ear, tone oozing condescension, "sit," like ordering a dog when he pulls you upright; you don't even fully notice at first, the pressure from the angle that he pulls your arms makes them ache once more, but then you're sitting up on your knees, and Oliver's lips are inches from yours, leaning into your space with intent, "stay," and you go quiet.

There is fury when he looks in your eyes; your jaw twitches as you bite down on a hundred different retorts. There's something intoxicating about you, the way everything you do in these moments is a war between your cruel nature and your hedonistic desires. You want to kick him, you want him to spit in your mouth, you want to ruin him, you want him to ruin you. All of it is written in your eyes.

You have spent all week treating Oliver Quick like nothing more than a dog; you hate that it turns you on when he returns the favour.

Farleigh is eating this interaction up, watching like a hunter who lay in wait for his prey, content with how Oliver so skilfully toyed with you -

"There's a leash in the bottom draw of the night stand -"

"Farleigh Start, I'm going to kill you with my bare hands when I get them back," you hissed, but Farleigh's comment had piqued Oliver's curiosity. Before you could even look back to give Farleigh a withering glare, Oliver's hand found your throat. Thumb and fingers against your delicate pulse points, not yet cutting off the blood flow, but right where they needed to be.

Ironically it's Farleigh's voice in the back of his mind, a night out at the pub where it had just been mostly guys, and somehow the topic of their sex lives came up. It had been Farleigh who had rolled his eyes and explained - it's here, idiot - reaching over to demonstrate on Felix himself - it's cutting off the blood flow that makes their head spin, not actually choking them to death. Gorgeous fingers momentarily placed on his cousin's throat, Oliver had memorised the placement. Considering what he now knew of Farleigh's relationship with you, he didn't need to guess why he was so sure back in the pub.

"Didn't say speak."

"I'd kick you if I could," your lip curled, even as his grip on your throat tightened. That fire in your eyes was betrayed by the way your heartbeat practically danced beneath his fingertips, "give me my water, I wasn't kidding about that."

There's a long, tense moment where Oliver deliberates. Then, very slowly, he lets you go, and turns, reaching over to the night stand. Out of the corner of his eye there's a very sudden flurry of movement, and of Farleigh moving unexpectedly fast. The water actually shakes with it, spills and splashes several drops onto his thighs, cold in the humid room, before he turns to see the tableaux of attempted rebellion. Farleigh looks still amused, but rather exasperated, like he expected as much, expected to have his hand in your mouth, your teeth in his palm, other hand digging nails into your shoulder as he attempted to hold you back.

"It's like you forgot, Ollie," Farleigh says with a mean little smile, "my dog's the kind that bites," still he plays along, the words coming out lazily despite how he seems to actually have to work to pull his hand from your mouth. Your anger at being thwarted seemed to simmer just beneath your skin; this smile you now wear is laced with malice that hadn't been there before.

"Just having some fun," you practically spat, with both of Farleigh's hands now on your shoulders, holding you in place. This malevolence is it's own kind of fun; your desire to hurt, to wound, to sink your teeth in like a cornered animal betrays you to Oliver. Your pride is starting to win over your desire; your capacity for cruelty is overcoming your desire to be put in your place. Perhaps it was getting to real, perhaps you remembered how much better you supposed you were than Oliver himself. This is exactly how he wants you.

Princess. Collared.

Taking a deep, deliberate breath, Oliver levels a flat, unimpressed look at you. Both you and Farleigh are waiting, watching, letting him lead in this moment, and he does. Water in one hand, he carefully reaches down to the bottom drawer of the nightstand - when you move, the bed moves with you, but Farleigh's grip on you never yields, never lets you lunge at Oliver the way you keep trying. The collar is sleep and simple, padded on the inside, with a leash to match. It even has a little bell, and an engraved tag.

Bitch.

Oliver chuckles a laugh as he reads it, he can't help himself.

"Farleigh thinks he's very funny," you roll your eyes, knowing exactly what Oliver had found so amusing. Farleigh does look particularly pleased with himself over your shoulder.

"It was true when I got it engraved and it's still true now."

But Oliver's moving on again, asking Farleigh to hold the glass of water for him as he fiddles with the collar. He is quiet, intense, arms around your neck as he takes his time doing up the collar; his face is so close to yours, sharing your furious, shaking breathes.

"How is our princess feeling?" Oliver takes the moment to check in, genuine, though it seems to irritate you further, "green light?"

"Do not flatter yourself into thinking I am yet speechless," you spit, "if I truly thought you offered me nothing, and wanted nothing more from you, I am more than capable of making that abundantly clear." You were endlessly fascinating to Oliver; you wanted to maim him, but you wanted him nonetheless. He tightens the collar around your neck. Farleigh still has one hand on your shoulder; his thumb comes to press against the edge of the collar, against your skin meeting the leather as he makes a pleased hum. "Green fucking light, scholarship boy," you give a mocking little smile to Oliver, the bitterness never leaving your eyes.

"Good -" the moment Oliver has latched the collar, has the leash curled at the back of your neck around his fist, you strain forward against it. The bell rings with the movement, a delicate sound for an indelicate moment -

"But I am warning you," forehead pressed against Oliver's, you're straining for any inch, any millimetre more you could get from his unyielding grip on your leash, you practically snarl against his lips with venomous hatred, "about what you will get when you treat me like a dog." Yet Oliver makes sure to remain impassive, perhaps even a little amused, in the face of your threats.

"If I can't make you bark like a good girl, princess," Oliver murmurs, catching your lips in a kiss even as you try to bite him, pulling back with a cold smile, "then I'm going to make you beg."

"Are you going to be a good girl?" Farleigh's voice purrs in your ear, and some of the viciousness about you eases. You sit back, back out of Oliver's space, and watch as Farleigh hands the water back to Oliver's waiting hands, trading him for the leash.

"For you," there's contempt in your eyes as you watch Oliver while addressing Farleigh, "I'll think about it."

Oliver's gaze meet's Farleigh's as he presses his laughter to your shoulder; something in his eyes almost says, well, good luck, I tried. Like Oliver isn't revelling in this chance you've laid before him; like he doesn't know how quickly your body betrays you at every single opportunity.

"If you want some water, you have to ask nicely," Oliver offers. A pause follows, and he watches you change tact.

You relax, letting the fight leave you, pressing yourself back against Farleigh as much as you could. Feeling his face so close to yours you turn, practically nuzzling against him.

"Even if I'm nice, he's going to be mean about it," your voice comes out so sweetly, so transparently manipulatively, "I just want a drink of water, you wouldn't make me beg for a drink of water, Farleigh," you insist, voice plaintive, all doe-eyed and pouting and not looking at Oliver.

"I can and I have and you didn't complain this much," Farleigh saw fit to remind you, giving a wide, mean smile. Your lip began to quiver.

"You're not even fucking me and I'm going to cry," you tried whimpering.

"Funny how none of those sound like any of those safe words," Oliver points out. Your lip stops quivering, in fact, you glare at him out of the corner of your eye as you pout, still trying to be soft and gentle with Farleigh.

"That's because they're not," Farleigh says far too knowingly, far too smugly, muttering into your ear once more, though loud enough for Oliver to clearly hear how sharp and praising it is, "and aren't you pretty when you cry."

"Can't cry if I'm dehydrated," you huff, and finally Farleigh, with a roll of his eyes, gives in with a sigh.

"Give her the water."

You immediately perk up, looking far too pleased to be getting your way, and lean forward expectantly. Oliver will give you this - and only this - before he drags every bit of satisfaction out of you that he wants. So he is careful, doesn't let the water spill, lets you breathe between mouthfuls when you indicate.

"All of it; it's good for you," still he tells you, tone like a teacher, cup insistent at your lips.

"Yes sir," you managed sarcastically, rolling your eyes as you drank more of the water, but something snapped, rewired in Oliver's brain. Farleigh could see it too.

"Oh he liked that," he commented, eyes alight with intrigue, and you frowned as you indicated for Oliver to lower the cup.

"I'm not saying it again."

"The optimism you have about what you will and won't do tonight is adorable," Farleigh tells you, planting a teasing kiss on your cheek, while you tell him to piss off.

"Give me the last of my water, you fuck," you finally manage, and Farleigh finally feels like he can lay himself back down, cackling at your audacity in the face of everything that had just happened. He also drops the leash, at least confident in either Oliver, or his own reflexes, for the time being, "do you want me to drink it all or not? Pick a lane."

Oliver, glass in one hand, reaches between your legs with the other. Immediately, you close your eyes, breath catching, knowing exactly what he was playing at.

"Is that how you think you're going to get fucked tonight?" No response; Oliver's thumb begins moving on your clit, pressing insistent circles as your breathing grows deeper, "are you going to be a good girl?"

"I'm not going to bark for you," you manage through gritted teeth, though after a moment, you half stutter out a moan, "please can you let me finish my water?" Two fingers slide teasingly down your slit, "please, Oliver -" you swallow hard, eyes opening to meet his; he can see this almost pains you, "please Oliver Quick, can I have the last of my water?" Those two fingers inside of you, curling, teasing, pulling a groan from you, eyes fluttering closed, and your voice barely above a whisper, "may I finish my water, sir?"

Oh yes, he did like hearing that from you.

"Of course," Oliver sits back, pleased, licking his fingers clean like a pleased cat while assisting you with finishing off the glass of water. You can't meet his gaze, already embarrassed by how quickly you'd given in. He watches your tongue dart out across your lips, collecting the few drops that had strayed, clinging to the edges of your lips. Beautiful mouth, he's sure he can put it to good use.

"All better, princess?" Farleigh snarks from behind you. Oliver thinks he can see you bite back on a harsh retort, and once again watches you change tact. Shifting away from him, half turning so you were now perpendicular to Farleigh and able to properly look at him, you wriggled your legs out from under you, perhaps a little more comfortable to your side, like a Victorian woman on a fainting sofa, it's an unassumingly sweet pose for the situation. Though it clearly matched the energy you were trying to give off.

"Yes, Farleigh, thank you, Farleigh," without even sparing Oliver a single glance. For a long moment, Farleigh's gaze slides from your innocent act to Oliver, looking unamused and still holding the empty glass. A strange moment of understanding passes between them the minute Farleigh sees Oliver's gaze snap to the leash down your back. So he sits, leans in close to you, and takes your face in one hand. It's clear you're leaning in to this perceived moment of tenderness, but Farleigh stops, a breath from your lips.

"You fucking bit my hand," his voice ice cold, you see there's no humour in his eyes as you pull back and try to stammer out something, anything, genuinely caught off guard, "so thanks won't cut it, princess; you can start with an apology."

"I -" you begin to frown, but then the bed dips behind you, and Oliver's cool hand is grasping at the leash, pulling gently.

"Didn't say speak," he warned, and didn't even give you a moment to butt in before continuing, "show Farleigh you're sorry."

Farleigh, clearly delighted by this turn of events, sits himself up, shuffling back to lean comfortably against the headboard. This confidence becomes him, legs spread in invitation, generous cock resting hard and wanting against the smooth plane of his stomach. For several long moments, Oliver watches Farleigh lazily stroke himself, simply watching you and Oliver through a smug, half-lidded gaze.

"You should see yourselves," the teasing barely hides how his voice is dripping with want. Unsurprisingly, you try to play it off, becoming flustered at the implication of you staring, of how much you knew you wanted him. But Oliver meets Farleigh's gaze, tongue darting out to wet his lips. Farleigh's smile widens.

"Aren't you lucky?" Oliver murmurs into your ear, grip on your leash tight as he keeps his eyes locked with Farleigh's. Though you've gone quiet, Oliver's unsatisfied with your lack of proper response, and gives a pointed yank on your collar.

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, I'm lucky," you sighed faintly, "sir." Farleigh snorts a laugh, and Oliver grins, shuffling himself to sit on Farleigh's other side, by his hip, and looks expectantly at you before giving your leash a tug. At least you seem to be getting into this, considering you actually perk up, scrambling as best you could to sit yourself between Farleigh's legs.

There's something about the gleeful little grin that you give Farleigh in this moment that give away how much genuine joy and anticipation you have to have your mouth on his cock. He too seems at home in this moment, settling back against the headboard with his hands behind his head. It's almost cute, your eagerness, the way you lean down in anticipation before.

"Can I have my hands back now?"

Farleigh goes to sit up, goes to say something, as if he'd realised you'd probably need your hands for the act, but Oliver cuts him off before he can.

"No." And it's too firm for him to argue with. When you look at Oliver this time, there's something there that wasn't before. A moment of genuine doubt, a moment of genuine submission.

"Sir, I think I need my hands for this," instead of argumentative, it's almost pleading. This is the moment he knows he's starting to win. Oliver tips his head to the side, as if regarding you curiously.

"Do you?" He can see the doubt in your eyes grow; it's driving him mad the way he's holding himself back, but good things take time.

"I think so," you don't sound sure.

Oliver moves slowly, deliberately, and makes sure you're following his movements. Farleigh's cock twitches in Oliver's cool hand, but all Farleigh does is let out a low, pleased hum. He starts simply, thumb gliding over his slit, collecting the precum that had been beading there, hand then moving up and down in even strokes. For a moment, he chances a glance at Farleigh, only to see his head lolling back against the bedframe, pleased smile on his lips.

When an actual whimper escapes you, and Oliver feels you tug on your leash in his other hand, he remembers his task at hand. There's lust in your eyes as you wriggle, thigh clenching and rubbing together at the sight of Oliver working Farleigh's cock. This might be far easier than he thought.

"You want this?" Just like a pet owner with their clearly eager dog, Oliver teases you.

"Yes," your practically bark, breathless and eager and embarrassingly fast. It actually seems to catch both Oliver and Farleigh off guard, Farleigh's cock clearly reacting positively in Oliver's hand to your obvious desire, and Oliver giving Farleigh a genuinely impressed look.

"Never seen someone so eager to get their mouth around a cock before; you must've done something special to her."

"Do you want me to teach you or do you want me to show you?" Farleigh's eyes shine as brightly as his smile in the silver-blue glow of the night. Oliver's mouth goes dry at the thought, his own cock aching at the mere thought of what it would be like to look up at Farleigh with his smug approval - knew you could be boy for me, Oliver - and he wants to hate the idea, but he can't. But he doesn't get the chance to respond -

"No, mine," slips from you like a whine, unexpectedly possessive. It brings both boys' attention back on you, however, and you seem to realise your slip up. Mouth opening and closing, you can't even seem to find the words to defend yourself; at least you've learned to shut up.

"Careful princess," Farleigh says surprisingly coldly, slipping back into dominance with practiced ease, "you're lucky, remember?"

"I'm lucky," you nod emphatically, but you're straining against your leash, wetting your lips.

"Good girls get treats," he yanks your collar back to remind you who still holds your leash, "this a treat for you, princess?"

"I do genuinely enjoy it," you admit honestly, seeming a little flustered to be saying as much, looking to Oliver with a sheepish smile, "not with anyone else though," it's actually a very sweet moment.

"Really?" Farleigh seems genuinely flattered, wide, bashful smile on his face as he sits forward a little.

"You seriously don't understand how hot the noises you make are," you laughed a little self consciously, "I came completely untouched once just from going down on you."

"Are we here to stroke Farleigh's ego or his cock?" Oliver rolled his eyes, already tired of this, but Farleigh sat back obliging, while you tried to bend down, but very much couldn't.

"Pick a lane, Oliver," you groaned, before quickly amending, apologetically, "sir." Farleigh snickered. Oliver's gaze grew cold.

"Beg for it."

He pushes his hand between your shoulder blades, forcing you to double over and bend down, but then kept his grip on your leash tight as he held the shiny, plump head of Farleigh's cock just inches from your lips.

"Please," already you were back to playing along, mouth open, breathing heavy, whimpering as you hear an impatient moan from Farleigh himself, "please, sir please -"

"Please what?"

Mouth hanging open, panting like a desperate whore, you beg for Farleigh's cock in your mouth, your throat, to be facefucked and used, whatever - you felt like you were going insane from the suspense. All the words come spilling out from you, begging and dripping with need that Oliver almost gives in right there.

Oliver's hand has been skilfully fisted around Farleigh's cock this entire time, keeping him hard and ready and in the perfect spot to drive you made, just out of your reach. He'd half forgotten he was even doing it, getting him all worked up, leaking, slick, fingers shiny and sticky with Farleigh -

"Oliver -" Farleigh chokes out in a kind of warning tone, as if to tell him to stop playing around one way or the other.

"You think you deserve this?" Oliver finally lets Farleigh's cock go, and you actually whimper. Oliver wipes his hand off messily against your mouth, once more demanding to know if you think you deserve this. You're begging, please tumbling from your lips even as Oliver presses two fingers into your greedy mouth.

"Please, sir," muffled so much that it's almost indistinguishable as your thorough tongue laps at Oliver's fingers, "please, I need him," and the desperate tears are welling in your eyes as he keeps his fingers in your mouth but pushes you back up onto your knees.

"Will you sit for me if I give you what you want?" He pulls his fingers slowly from your mouth. You nod, heartbeat alive when he wraps a firm hand around your throat, "will you stay for me if I give you what you want?" Another nod, lip trembling and breathing so desperately hard. He applies more pressure.

"Anything," you gasp, hips moving again, insistent, desperate for friction; he'd see to that soon, "speak, shake," you wet your lips, "roll over."

Oliver glances over his shoulder to where Farleigh is watching with rapt attention. Good.

"Good dog," Farleigh mumbles, desperately working his own hand up and down his shaft.

Oliver lets go of the leash carefully, and your eyes snap back to him. Just as you promised, you sit, you stay, a good dog, watching him move closer to Farleigh with intent. He hears your breath catch the moment he takes Farleigh's cock in hand, and the desperate chanting of 'pleasepleaseplease' as he lowers himself down. For a moment, he looks to Farleigh, a silent question of permission, but considering he too can hear how desperate and needy you're behaving at the mere sight of this, he realises, at least in part, what Oliver's doing and seems entirely on board.

You were right, Farleigh moans and whimpers like a whore with a mouth on his cock. A wanton melody made all the sweeter for your begging having turned simply to needy noises. What Oliver can't fit of Farleigh in his mouth he continues to jerk off, momentarily slipping down to gently squeeze Farleigh's balls, earning him the most beautiful series of swears Oliver's ever heard. Tongue always moving, caressing, often lapping at Farleigh's slit and the sweet, salty slickness, Oliver works hard to make him feel good - which he knows he's more than capable of, despite his demeanour he's nothing near a virgin in any realm - without getting him to close. He'd still leave that for you.

For a moment he glances up at Farleigh, and the bitterness in his eyes at the edge of the obvious lust, like he resents Oliver for being so good at this, makes it all worth it.

I got you here, Farleigh, Oliver thinks with bitter triumph, everything else is sloppy fucking seconds.

When he pulls away, he makes sure there's a distinctive, lewd slurp before he takes a deep breath.

Looking to you, the fight is back in your eyes, but it doesn't fucking matter; Oliver won. He pulls you in for a rough kiss -

"I hate you," you snarl at him through your intensely frustrated pout, even as his hand grabs your jaw, "interloping little slut, where the fuck do you get off -?" But the minute he pushes his tongue into your mouth you still try to press yourself against him, to kiss him harder, taste all of Farleigh in him that you could. You know you're sloppy fucking seconds to him, and you hate him for it.

"I was thinking it was going to be in you," Oliver says blithely as he pulls away from the kiss. In the back of his mind he knows it's a loaded statement - ha - but he hasn't forgotten the colours if this was a bridge too far -

"Fucking finally you have some common sense," you sneer, as if you weren't still on the verge of tears, "I was going to say that if you ruined my sheets I was going to have you arrested."

"No you weren't," pipes up Farleigh with an eyeroll. Immediately embarrassed you tell him to shut up, "no, I don't think I will; I'm beginning to think you guys are a bunch of fucking teases -"

Oliver gives him a thin smile, handing over the leash, having gotten all the permission he needed.

"Are you going to be good for Farleigh?" He whispered low in your ear, "didn't you want this?"

"Weren't you just begging for it?" Farleigh smirked down at you, lust-filled approval in his voice, "come on, baby," he murmurs as he takes your face in his hands, and immediately you're his, "crying for me?" The teasing starts warm, but as he's wiping the first of the tears from your cheeks, as you're nodding with embarrassment, his teasing turns mean and sharp and smug, "crying like a desperate, little cockwhore," he doesn't even time to let you react before he's giving your cheeks a gentle squeeze; "open up," he orders in that same cruel, loving, smug tone that makes Oliver's hairs stand up on the back of his neck. But you seem to react with relief the moment you have your mouth around him.

There's something that even Oliver finds entrancing about Farleigh in this moment. He'd been leading you both for so long that he'd forgotten where it had all started, the way Farleigh had spoken so early on, and how even in your most vicious or playful, part of you would always refer back to him. Part of Farleigh had earned your respect, and in the end, he had been the only one in the house who made the princess feel like her place was on her knees.

"Now your little power trip is over," Farleigh's voice cuts through Oliver's thoughts like a fucking knife, as always, painful and clean and precise, "do you need my permission to -" but Oliver's done with his bullshit tonight too.

"Shut it Farleigh," he rolls his eyes and starts to move once more. Time he focuses on your bound hands, finally deciding that you'd probably had enough, or at least were willing enough to listen to either Oliver or Farleigh in a way that mattered.

"Oh my god, freedom!" You immediately announced, sitting up to throw your hands in the air with a genuinely delightful glee.

"You see what you've done," Farleigh looked over your shoulder to Oliver, tossing his belt to the side, but you were already using your freedom to crawl up to meet him. Oliver's surprised by how genuine and affectionate you are when you tell him to be quiet for a moment. With one hand still working on him, the other being used to brace yourself up, you kiss Farleigh gently. What surprises Oliver even further is the momentary look of actual love in Farleigh's eyes as he cups your jaw and kisses you back.

Then you're moving back, making sure to let them both know that you weren't kidding about how much you enjoyed going down on Farleigh. However you do give pause, looking at Oliver through narrowed eyes for a long minute where he's sitting by your knees, watching the exchange, not quite sure where he was meant to go from here.

Your foot lashes out at him. Hard. It's unexpected. Somehow, so is the second kick that follows immediately after. The third he anticipates, but by that stage you'd shunted him to the edge of the bed, and though he tries to catch your leg he falls off, unsuccessful.

"What kind of problem do you have?" Oliver is scowling from the floor, his shoulder and hip sore from the fall, while Farleigh is laughing his ass off.

"What are you, a coat rack suddenly?" You demanded, matching his scowl with one of your own, still braced on your hands and knees over Farleigh, "also fuck you for making me beg for water." Careful, Oliver thinks, he's not quite done making you beg.

"Maybe his dick's broken," Farleigh snorted, "which would be a fucking shame; have you had a proper look at it?" Oliver bristled at the implications, though he knew he'd be thinking about the compliment tucked in there for days to come.

"You are both right fucking insufferable," Oliver snapped, getting to his feet and brushing himself off with indignation.

"Yeah, I'll cry about it in the shower later," you could clearly be heard rolling your eyes. There's a few pointedly obnoxious moments where you make a point of gagging on Farleigh's cock before coming back up for air and to add, "fuck me or fuck off - woah, okay, good choice!"

Before you can even finish your ultimatum, Oliver's decided he's come too far to, well, not. Grabbing your thighs with all the strength he could muster, he pulls you almost entirely away from Farleigh, to the end of the bed, half off the bed, causing you to faceplant into the duvet the moment your knees were no longer supporting you. Farleigh's protests fall on deaf ears, however, as all Oliver allows himself to focus on is keeping you stable, bent over the end of the bed like this.

Still, Farleigh shifts down to accommodate your change in position, despite his eye rolling and claims that Oliver's being dramatic, it's overshadowed by the sudden, loud moan that escapes you.

"Never felt someone so fucking desperate for someone they hate," Oliver bites out, almost impressed by how easy it was to bury himself in you. In the moment he gives you to adjust, his hand pressed to the small of your back to which you eagerly arch back against him, he watches Farleigh. It's his turn to be smug.

After a moment, he gives a few, shallow, experimental thrusts. Each time you rock back to meet him, to take him as deep as possible, and each time he hears a faint, pleased whimper. Your body and it's desires has betrayed you at every single opportunity, which is information Oliver gladly keeps in the back of his mind.

"Come on princess," he leans over to you to murmur in your ear where you'd pressed your face to Farleigh's thigh for the moment, attempting to keep going with your hand on him when your body could only focus on the rhythm of Oliver, Oliver, Oliver, "you've got a job to do, don't you want to be good?"

"I want to be good," you keened, before making the effort to prop yourself up, taking Farleigh in your mouth once more.

It's the last moment of care that Oliver affords, however, as he very quickly sets a rough pace, nails digging so hard into your hips that he thinks he might draw blood. But your cunt still clutches at him like it was made for his cock, so slick with how much you need this, need him in this moment, that it's already dripping down your thighs.

The three of you get lost in each other, each desperate moan from your muffled by Farleigh's cock hitting the back of your throat. The sensation soon sets him off and he can't keep his hands off of you. Up on his knees he takes over, takes your face in his hands as you look up at him, teary-eyed with a heady kind of bliss, and he matches Oliver's rhythm as he fucks your face.

Oliver can only imagine the kind of mess you look like right now, but has to focus on sustaining himself, making sure he doesn't leave you with any more excuses to belittle him tonight. So he reaches around, between your thighs, and his fingers find your desperately sensitive clit.

Immediately your stance slips, widens, gives him better access to your clit, and he hears your muffled moan become a choked sob. The beginning of the perfect end.

Farleigh's getting close, his pace is faltering, his hips are stuttering, you're whining and gasping desperate breathes between each of his thrusts, that have turned to wordless, overwhelmed sobs in the past few minutes. Oliver is genuinely impressed that you're able to take all of Farleigh like that; he wonders if he'd dedicated time to training you. He can't dwell on it, not when Farleigh's eyes have fallen closed and he's started mouthing what Oliver can only assume is a string of swear words.

For just a moment, Farleigh looks like an angel. Ethereal. He almost glows. Perfectly at peace and content and not a total, unbearable smug asshole. Then he pulls his cock out of your mouth and lets his legs give out again, flopping back onto your bed with a wide grin.

"I thought Oliver couldn't make you speechless," Farleigh teased, while you had in fact moved past words almost entirely, except -

"Please," you sobbed desperately. Farleigh, who'd never gotten to see you like this from here, lights up, moving back to you. You're shaking, barely able to support yourself, and he finally sees Oliver's hand between your thighs, and puts two and two together.

"Please?" He wears a smile that's all teeth, gently taking your shoulders and the pressure of keeping yourself up. In return you find yourself holding his face, his arms, everywhere, for support as he moved you back to press against Oliver. Taking the hint, Oliver wraps his arm around you, firm against your back, keeping you secure as he fucks up into you.

"Pleasepleaseplease -"

"Words, princess," Farleigh tells you as he brushes Oliver's hand out of the way, letting him focus on the new angle, the new sensation, the way you're trembling and so close to cumming on his cock. Before you can even formulate proper words at first, your head falls forward onto Farleigh's shoulder, sobbing, aching with how good you've been made to feel.

"I'm so close," you choke out, "please can I -"

"Selfish," Oliver admonishes coldly, and the reaction is immediate.

"No, no," you whimper apologetically, something Farleigh's never heard from you before. Lifting your head you lean back, fitting yourself against Oliver further, trying to placate, "please, no I promise- you, I need -" you take a deep, shuddering breath, "Ollie, please, it feels like I'm going to fucking die if you don't cum in me," you blurt out. Farleigh actually laughs, he's never seen you so fucking weak for another person.

Your begging and desperate pleas spur Oliver on, holding you tighter, fucking you harder, until he finally leans forward, sinking his teeth into your shoulder. It sends you over the edge, has you seeing stars as you cry out. Shudder and sobbing with your release, you feel Oliver bury his cock deep in you as it twitches and throbs and paints your inside.

Oliver lets you go, lets you fall onto Farleigh as your orgasm is still quaking through you. Oliver's hands grip your hips, keep you flush to him, keep you from pulling away.

"That's a good girl," Farleigh murmurs in your ear. He's holding you close with one arm, the other gently running his fingertips up and down your back in a comforting rhythm. He doesn't bother sparing Oliver a second glance, Oliver isn't an important part of this equation to him anymore. Not that that matters to Oliver.

It was far easier to pick you apart, to own you inside and out, than he'd ever imagined. He'd brought you to tears, made you beg for every last bit of fucking pleasure including every inch of him and then some. He would leave you aching, leave you knowing that you both knew the truth of where your place is in his world.

Finally Oliver pulls out of you, wiping his softening cock on your thighs before he thinks about getting dressed. He does take a few moments, while you're still half bent over the bed and being supported by Farleigh, where Oliver watched with a detached kind of approval, the way his cum starts to leak out of you, down your thighs with your own shining arousal.

The princess had been collared, cuffed, and his, inside and out.

"Thank- thank you, Oliver Quick," your voice is demure and grateful among your sniffles and whimpers, and Oliver can't help but smile to himself. His pride in you extends only to your final show of submission, though it's pride nonetheless.

"Good girl."

#saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #farleigh start x reader #farleigh start x reader x oliver quick #farleigh start x you #farleigh start imagine #farleigh start x y/n #oliver quick x reader #oliver quick x you #oliver quick x y/n #oliver quick imagine #oliver quick smut #farleigh x reader x oliver #farleigh x reader #farleigh imagine #manic writer

[yeyinde]

The baby trapping fics have changed my brain chemisty, they were so good 💜😭 I'd love to know if you had any headcannons for Gaz and how he'd compare to the other 3 🙏

thank you!!!! 😭

i'm working on the outline for his in between finishing up Soap's, so i def have a few! i really adore the idea of Gaz plotting something like this out from beginning to end. very methodical in his execution. cutting no corners, no stone unturned kinda thing. Price planned to an extent, but it was largely just vibes. Ghost had no plan to speak of. Soap grabs without thinking. but Gaz has everything mapped out to the finer details.

he's probably the one who has the biggest moral compass compared to the rest, but is also willing to purposefully hold up magnets to make it spin in the direction he wants. it's not necessarily nefarious. i think he just has a penchant to bend things. to test their limits. find their stress points. and this is that, but also, incredibly self indulgent. and he's aware of that. he knows what this is, and why he wants it/does it, but still goes for it.

he's craftier about it compared to the others, too. like, if the rest are just dogs, then he's definitely more of a wolf. probs not nearly as bad as Soap, but he's definitely a strong contender for second place in terms of dubious morality.

but i also think he's not as grizzled/damaged as the others, namely Price and Ghost, and so he's more willing to sit back and let things unfold when need be. pulling back to let things settle, breathe. granted, they're absolutely unfolding the way he wants them too, but if he feels a tug on the leash, he'll give you some slack. just enough, of course, to make you think you've gotten away. have space, distance, freedom. but whenever he wants, he can just pull you back to him. you'll never truly be free, but honestly—Gaz has a way of making you think everything is your choice, anyway. 

and alsoooooo. i really want to explore his temperament a bit. he seems so level headed, and mature for his age, but at the same time, so quick to anger. like it's always just kinda there under the surface. a low grade fever, in a way. and i love unraveling characters who are like that. finding their boiling point.

#he picked the collar but in the end #you put it on #that's largely the angle i'm working on for Gaz #gaz x reader baby trap #cod

[sighs-deeply-and-dreadfully]

HI SO HI UHMM I'm gonna try making this as non-weird and as short as I can even though I don't even know how to explain this rn-

Could I request hcs of Eddie and frank (together not separately poh) with a gn! reader that reminds them of a child kinda-?? SO TO PUT IT INTO WORDS UHH the reader is kinda child-ish and curious (like a child ofc😋) and a lot of the neighbors say that they're like a baby put in a /pos way! So technically the reader is frank and eddies non-biological child

Honestly- I imagine they got that one backpack with a leash for children for the reader or smth since the reader strays off a lot😭

Tinkyu 4 reading this and even acknowledging this even if I made some stuff non-understandable!!! This totally isnt that cute person that requested 4 astronomer reader (TOTALLY totally it isn't obvious right??) /j

KEEP SLAYING PO LABYU /PLATONIC

I just realized I made this so long i am sorey😢😔

WAHAHHA!! HELLO AGAIN HOSHI!! Love you too!!! /p

Hehehe.. found family… froths at the mouth, pacing in circles in my enclosure /lhj /pos

I am absolutely happy to write for this, and I don’t find it weird at all! No worries! Although I may use different wording at times :] /g /nm

Scampering, Scuttling

Frank Frankly/Eddie Dear x GN!Childish!Reader

Headcanons Format, All Relations with the Reader are Platonic (Frank and Eddie, however, are in a romantic relationship!)

When you first moved into the neighbourhood, your affinity for curiosity and lack of self-preservation quickly landed you onto Frank Frankly’s radar.

From scrapes knees to splintered hands, being stung by a bee, or getting stranded in a tree— your curiosity led you to many troubling situations. All of which Frank would march up to aid you out of with gentle lecturing.

“Neighbour, I am aware I told you of Bumble bees being one of the friendliest types of bees, but that does not mean grab them??”

You leave him in a confused mess of how you even end up in half of the situations you do. He ends up ranting (lovingly) about this to his darling partner, Eddie Dear.

“Oh-! The new neighbour? I didn’t know you two we’re friends.” He’d happily chirp to Frank, who was coddled up by his side.

“We are, yes! But they’re— like- agh-! Like an overexcited puppy!! I found them trying to pick up a centipede today!! A centipede!”

Do not be mistaken, Frank only raves because he cares! His extravagant expression of concern is how he shows he cares, along with picking you up after you fell into a river and drenched yourself. He isn’t truly angry! Just worried BAHA

“Awhah! I’m sure it isn’t too bad, butterfly.” Eddie would laugh cheerily, giving his partner’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Maybe you could introduce me to them? Maybe I can help.”

And this, my dear reader, was how you got properly introduced to Eddie Dear.

To help you explore a bit (in a safer way than running through the surrounding forest), Eddie would take you on his paper runs— introducing you to all the neighbours.

Sometimes, he’d hold your hand on these runs— mainly just to get you to follow! He had quickly discovered you had a tendency to wobble off wherever you pleased, though you didn’t seem to realize half the time— leading to a few stumbles apologies when you eventually found him again. So, his solution was just to gently hold your hand as you two went on the routes!

.. He’d then buy you a treat from Howdy’s afterwards. He enjoys spoiling people!! But, ah, sugar rushes.

“.. Why would you let them eat so much chocolate?” Frank would ask, raising a brow as you ricocheted off the walls nearby.

“..They looked really happy about it.” He’d reply, with a nervous smile— soon laughing a bit at Frank’s soft sigh and playful eye roll.

“If they end up in a hole, it’s your fault, sweetheart.”

“That’s fine-!!”

Overall, it didn’t take the two long to start behaving somewhat parent-like towards you, more than they already had.

Frank would check you over for injures and plaster you in bug-themed bandaids, along with reading you “stories” from his books (and sometimes an actual story book).

He was a lot more reserved than Eddie, leading to most activities done with him being rather tame ones.

.. you could sometimes chase him around, though. Which, albeit he wouldn’t admit it, he does find fun in. Kind of like how people go to haunted houses for fun; he gets hunted in a house. /lhj

Eddie, meanwhile, would play with you a lot! He’d take you on walks of the town, and help you explore the place in a way that doesn’t have Frank screaming in worry at the end of the day.

He’s the classic “wanna play catch?” kind of person, to be honest, leading to a lot of playing ball and running around.

Both of them care about you very much! But still respect the fact you, very much, aren’t a genuine child and respect you like a friend. Because you are! You’re their friend!

But to say they don’t fret over you like parents would be a lie. BAHA!!

GWAAH this was so fun to write!! I’m sorry if it’s kind of short, though-!! But I still hope it was enjoyable :] I love writing for Eddie and Frank fhehrfnfnw froths at the mouth i love them. squeezes them both like those stress toys that have the eyes pop out /aff

#sighsdeeplyanddreadfully #reader insert #welcome home #x reader #frank frankly #Eddie dear #frank frankly x reader #Eddie dear x reader #welcome home Frank frankly #welcome home Eddie dear

[terrence-silver]

Would Terry have an allowance for beloved or would he have a limit for how much money beloved could spend?

---

I think allowances, budgeting, money spending limits and Terry Silver firmly controlling the flow of cash (and by extension, the person attached to that flow of cash) happen only when his, erhm, relationships are highly business-like and very much fall under the territory of some sort of...lets call it, sugar baby action.

Escorts.

Arrangements.

Situationships.

Lovers and bedfellows.

People recreationally there for his use until they're no longer of any use.

That sort of thing.

In such cases, he's calculative, practical and very pragmatic about his money even though he has wild abundances of it, but regardless, such arrangements are very much strategic corporate in nature for him even though they might not seem like that on the surface (and it wouldn't surprise me if they came with paperwork, negotiations and contracts all of their own) and yes, people he sleeps with? People he fucks and maybe totes around for the occasional engagement because having a hot piece of ass is a status symbol? Such individuals, they definitely get allowances and limits on their spending budget simply because Terry's an expedient, tactical player and he feels every single dollar of his has to be earned and deserved. Feeling that every single dollar is an investment he can also get an use out of later down the line, tying it in with something else within his schemes. Like a tax write-off or a brownie point or a hundred for his reputation. Nothing's for free, remember? Not even cold, hard cash. Oh, don't get me wrong --- the budget such a person gets is still extremely lavish and they'll never lack for anything while they're with him, but there's a leash attached to it all and Terry controls how much of it they get, why and when, setting countless traps for them. Countless tests they can either fail or succussed at. Countless chances at promotion, demotion or even being fired --- like at an actual job in an actual career with endless pitfalls. Today, you might be his sugar baby, drinking mimosas at his garden party, tomorrow you could just get ghosted because your time's up and you're no longer relevant to his desires or plans. Wake up and smell the coffee during the rude awakening. Happened to Cheyenne Hamidi, after all. Nothing personal. Strictly business.

Now, being someone he actually loves?

Terry has this fatal virtue, or fatal flaw, depending how you view it, of being unbelievably and almost frivolously generous towards people he truly cares for to the degree he's prone to splashing and throwing money around without any limits whatsoever merely because one of his prime love languages are acts of service and spending materially on his people, and as such, no expense is big enough. No gift ridiculously luxurious enough. No favor over the top. No, in fact, he firmly insists on these gestures, and if his beloved is reluctant to accept them, he forces them on them, not taking no for an answer because he knows best and he insists on the best for someone belonging to him, entirely adamant they should take whatever he is giving, tending to give often, constantly, without reservations and with no thought to the price, or at least, no care for how much it costs, finding it a flex of power and a proof of devotion that he can afford anything and everything for beloved and that if they so choose, they can spend as much as they like and that he's doubly the man for it precisely because he can make that a possibility for them. They're entitled to it all precisely because they're his. Yes, he gets a thrill out of it. He gets a thrill out of being a provider for his beloved. What's best; Terry gets a sexual thrill out of being a provider nobody else could ever beat or match at being a provider --- he gets a thrill out of being the best. The idea his beloved could point at anything under the sun and that he's powerful enough to acquire it for them when others cannot? Could even say it titillates him. Turns him on. Makes his heart flutter. Gets him giddy. Hits him with an odd high of mania.

Dare I say, makes him exhilaratingly happy?

Where there's love, there's no such things a allowances and limits for Terry Silver.

Because his affections are limitless.

#terry silver #kk3 #cobra kai #terry silver x reader #terry silver x beloved #money #allowences #budget

[allfortzu]

everything, everywhere

-- sana / tzuyu. 2.36k, fluff // MEN DNI.

sana and tzuyu find their way. in every universe, in every life.

one cool night of mid-april spring, sana lays a cheek on her palm and watches tzuyu work. 

they're meant to be studying for their final exams, but sana is easily distracted, and the thought of something final makes sana a little sentimental. 

quiet nights have always been this way – of her and tzuyu working at the only table in their dorm, because the other was dismantled and turned into a temporary makeshift enclosure for two dogs tzuyu impulsively fostered. 

tzuyu promised not to get attached, but now the dogs have names and sana is in charge of feeding them every wednesday morning. 

kaya and butter yip happily from behind what was once tzuyu’s table top. 

sana sighs melancholically, her entire body slumping. 

life is good now, but for how long more?

"can i ask you a question?" 

tzuyu glances up from her notes. “what’s wrong?”

“will you go back to taiwan after graduation?” sana asks. 

tzuyu doesn’t say anything immediately – it’s not like she enjoys entertaining the thought of it either. 

“maybe. you?” 

sana shrugs. “i don’t know. i think i might miss all of this too much.” 

tzuyu tilts her head sideways.  “all of this?” 

their dorm was standard at best. small, quaint, and unassuming. there really wasn’t much to lose. honestly, life would be much more comfortable if they were back home with their families. 

“yeah, like kaya and butter,” sana says. 

then, after what might’ve been a moment of hesitation: “and you.”

it comes as a surprise; not because tzuyu didn’t think she took up that big of a part in sana’s life, but rather she had never even thought about the possibility of not being in sana’s life at all. 

tzuyu wants to console sana with solutions, but sana’s right. 

after this, they wouldn’t need to live in a dorm together anymore, and if not both, one of them would leave korea completely. sana to japan, tzuyu to taiwan. perhaps they could visit each other, but they both knew that was wishful thinking.

it would only be natural to move on. 

this time, tzuyu sighs. “i’d miss you, too.” 

she’ll miss the routine they’ve found themselves falling into after three years of rooming, she’ll miss the miso soup sana makes for her birthday, because seaweed soup was always too hard to make without a kitchen. she’ll miss sana in her bed, clutched on tight during rainy nights when the thunder was too loud for comfort. 

ah, i haven't even confessed to her yet. 

sana doesn’t say anything. it’s as if this truly is the end, and they’re both trying to imagine a life without one another. 

or trying to imagine a life where everything works out; where sana has tzuyu, and tzuyu has sana.

“do you think we’re best friends in every universe?” sana asks. 

another universe, one where we never stop being best friends. 

in this universe, sana and tzuyu are best friends. 

at the end of the year, they’ll graduate, and what lies ahead is uncertainty. 

in another universe, sana and tzuyu are older, but they don’t know each other yet. 

tzuyu is a barista, and sana has recently moved into the area. 

it's the coffee shop closest to her apartment, and also the only one that offers free pup cups with every order of a drink. perfect for sana and her shiba inu. 

the cafe door swings open with a gentle ding, and sana peeks her head in. 

"good morning," a girl behind the counter greets, waving an arm. 

she's tall, pretty, and has caramel brown hair. there's no one else in the cafe yet, but maybe because it's just opened. 

"hi!" sana waves back, dog leash still in hand. "i heard dogs are allowed?" 

the barista's face lits up fully, and she leans over the countertop to get a better view. sana's shiba inu peeks a snout in as well, and the barista squeaks.  

"yes! dogs are welcomed!" she chirps, quickly rounding from her spot to join sana at the entrance. 

"baby!" she says and squats down. "are they a she or he!"

the enthusiasm and eagerness is so contagious, sana really can't help but grin, both with pride and plain endearment. "a she. her name is pomu!"

"awww, pomu!" the barista coos, patting pomu lightly in between her ears. pomu wags her tail happily, tilting her head upwards for more scratches.

sana giggles at the scene, and she doesn't mean to, but it snaps the barrista out of her one-track-dog-lover-mind momentarily. 

"ah," she says sheepishly, rubbing at her neck. "sorry, i didn't introduce myself." 

maybe this barista isn't as well-versed with humans than with dogs. 

"my name is tzuyu," she continues, suddenly awkward. what an adorable name. "you have a really cute dog."

sana has never let a little awkwardness get in the way of a pretty girl, though. 

"thank you, you're cute too!" sana giggles. "i'm sana, i'm new around here."

the casual comment makes tzuyu laugh shyly, a light pink tinting her cheeks in a way sana loves. "always nice to see a new face." then, glancing at pomu. "and a new dog." 

she leads sana back to the counter after, returning to her place behind it. "what can i get for you today?" 

sana scans the menu, and besides the usual americano or expresso, she doesn't really know what anything else is. "do you have anything sweet?" 

tzuyu muses, tilting her head slightly. "not yet, but i've been experimenting on a new strawberry rose latte."

sana's ears perk up at the mention of strawberries and roses. "what's a latte?" 

"it's just coffee and milk. not very strong, i think you'd like it." tzuyu smiles. "and if you're up for it, you can try the strawberry rose one. free of charge, of course." 

"trying it on a test subject before you debut it?" sana jokes. 

tzuyu shrugs, playing along. "think of it as… a pre-release trial?" 

"hm," sana hums. "when you put it that way, how could i turn it down?"

tzuyu grins. "one strawberry rose latte, for the lady with the cute dog. and a pup cup!" 

"way to make a girl feel special," sana chides playfully, huffing. tzuyu simply chuckles at the jab. 

and so it goes. 

sana is the first to try tzuyu's new strawberry rose latte, and the first at tzuyu's coffee shop every morning after. 

tzuyu names it the pomu special, and it's a limited edition feature for her valentines day menu. 

sana gets unlimited access to it, though. of course she does.

tzuyu finds that she does play favourites when it comes to customers, but doesn't care because it's sana. 

sana tries all of tzuyu's drinks, "pre-released", as tzuyu puts it, and their future is full of new beginnings. 

they'll be best friends, soon enough. 

maybe more.

in another, sana and tzuyu have known each other for years, but no one can know. 

"i've missed you," sana murmurs, wrapping her arms around tzuyu's neck to pull her close. 

she just wants to hug the person she's been wanting to hug all day, but tzuyu stands stiff, back taut and tilting her chin away from sana. "sana, not now." 

"but we're in private now," sana pouts. 

nonetheless, even if she hates it, she still unravels her arms and slides her hands reluctantly off. she doesn't let go completely, though, catching the lapels of tzuyu's blazer between her thumb and fingers. 

tzuyu sighs, covering sana's hands with her own, touch as loving as always, but there’s still a certain hesitancy. "i have to check the room first – give me a second?" 

in this world, sana is the only daughter of the famed minatozaki clan, and tzuyu the first-in-line for the inheritance of the chou group. 

if anyone knew they were together, snuck away from one of many business galas, it would be the end of their family's reputations as a whole. 

"one kiss?" sana pleads, brows knit and eyes round, looking up at tzuyu innocently. 

"we’ll check first, then a kiss," tzuyu says sternly, but the gentle finger she rubs in between sana's frown is anything but. 

sana huffs, but ultimately relents. "one check." 

tzuyu smiles, nodding; an action that's come to be a staple in a relationship. tzuyu accompanies it with a subtle scrunch of her nose, eyes curving slightly, and it's enough to tell sana that she's thinking of her when they can't tell each other in public. 

not that tzuyu isn't always thinking about sana, but when she does that, it means she's thinking of her. 

thinking of kissing her, thinking of doing all the things sana wants to do. 

thinking of sana, truly, in the sense of a lover thinking of her muse. 

and a sweep tzuyu does, quick but thorough. until she's satisfied that they're safe, and she lets herself let go completely, giving a patient sana the permission to jump into her arms finally. 

tzuyu embraces sana fully, wholly, all their love encompassed into a single moment – one where they are completely each other's and nothing else. 

"i missed you," sana says again, but this time softer, voice muffled in the crook of tzuyu's neck as her shoulders rise with her tightened hold. 

they're familiar words, said almost everyday. some might say it takes away from the significance, but sana has never cared about significance – what mattered besides missing tzuyu's touch every second of the day and telling her as it is? 

tzuyu squeezes back, places a gentle kiss on the crown of sana's head. "kisses?" 

"please." sana tilts her chin up, lets her eyes flutter close.

dutifully, tzuyu plants another kiss on sana's lips, a proper kiss. 

the weight of the world is lifted off their shoulders, and then it's just them; sana and tzuyu, tzuyu and sana. 

sana tugs at tzuyu’s blazer until it’s finally slipped off, hands roaming eagerly and freely, savouring the few moments they have away from prying eyes. tzuyu presses closer in earnest, palm on the small of her back, gentle. 

she hums into sana’s lips, a soft purr that sounds from the back of her throat and comes out in contented waves, flowing right into sana. 

it’s so unlike tzuyu as she is in public, but so completely like the tzuyu sana knows behind doors. 

i hope we exist in another life – one without all the stupid things in this one.

their lips part for a moment, but sana finds tzuyu again. 

no titles, no fleeting touches. 

tzuyu lets herself enjoy the comfort of sana in her arms, of her in sana's arms. 

no pretending we’re not everything more than that. 

in this universe, sana and tzuyu have all of each other, even if they’re the only ones who know. 

somewhere else, sana and tzuyu lay in bed, foreheads pressed against each other. 

they speak in hushed tones, legs tangled up beneath the sheets, sharing the warmth. 

tzuyu says something, rubs her nose on sana's, and sana giggles. it probably isn't anything funny, but sana's always giddy around tzuyu. 

tzuyu laughs too, and soon enough all they're doing is snickering at nothing. 

"i want to get a dog," tzuyu says, tinges of laughter still laced between her words. "or two. can we?" 

"does that mean i get co-parenting rights?" 

"yeah," tzuyu smiles. "i'll even let you name one." 

sana quriks a brow. "i bet you've already got two names in mind." 

"but they're our dogs, i'm trying not to be greedy." 

sana laughs at that, shoulders shaking lightly. "you're allowed to be greedy, love," she says, poking tzuyu's dimple when tzuyu starts grinning. "tell me the names?" 

"i'm thinking kaya and butter," tzuyu says. 

"i think those names are perfect," sana muses, tucking a stray strand of tzuyu's hair behind her ears and kissing the tip of her nose for good measure. 

"like you," tzuyu giggles. 

sana laughs again, how terribly corny. 

though, ever so tzuyu. 

they've been together for longer than either can remember, but somehow still as infatuated as the first time they met. 

"can i ask you another thing?" tzuyu whispers, eyes bright.

"yeah?" sana says, finally letting the last bit of laughter out of her system. 

"i want to marry you." 

there's no hesitancy when it's said, no fear. 

not even a question, really, just a statement of fact. 

it's sudden, but not too sudden at all. it's not like they haven't known the answer to these questions for years now. 

sana smiles. 

"let's get married, then." 

it's easy, effortless. 

"and get two dogs," tzuyu adds, pecking sana on the lips. 

sana grins. "and get two dogs."

they've always worked it out. 

truly, there's nowhere else they'd rather be. 

looking back, sana had asked: "do you think we're best friends in every universe?" 

"probably not," tzuyu answers. 

sana pouts. "you really think that?" 

tzuyu looks away when she says the next words; pretends they mean less to her than they really do. 

"i don't know. maybe we're something other than best friends?" maybe she's hoping. "maybe… maybe we don't know each other yet…" 

maybe we'd be lovers. 

"maybe everything works out in those universes," sana muses. "it's fun to think about. us in another universe, hm?" 

it is. 

if we're happy in another universe, let's be happy in this one too, sana. 

"how about we find a place together after graduation?" tzuyu says. "i don't think i'm ready to go back to taiwan just yet." 

not without you, at least. 

"thank god you asked," sana laughs, relieved. "i really thought you were going to pack up and leave once we were done." 

tzuyu ducks her head. "i'd miss all of this too much, too." 

"what was that?" sana teases, leaning in. "you'd miss me too much?" 

"kaya and butter would miss you too much," tzuyu rolls her eyes, pushing sana's smug look away. "go away, i'm studying." 

"aw, i love you, tzuyu," sana coos, voice high and dragged out to rub it in. 

tzuyu groans, covering her ears in despair.

but it's all just for show. 

where tzuyu and sana are right now, they decide they'd rather be here than anywhere else, too. 

i love you too, sana.

didnt even use those satzu wips i wrote a whole new one instead?!% yeah idk whats going on in this fic either (but ill lose my mind if i spend longer on this than i alrdy have ong) and its a bit different from what i usually write, but still, hopefully it turned out tolerable at least,, 🙏 inspired-ish by that one falseknees comic, but in this one, their relationship always exists in every universe :)

thank you for reading! interactions, again, always appreciated <3

MEN DNI.

#twice imagines #sana x tzuyu #twice fluff #minatozaki sana #chou tzuyu #satzu #i wouldve called this one “wherever you are” instead but unfortunately #i did not have enough foresight when i wrote that mitzu fic #i think this title works well enough tho! #also i hate finding pics for the fics oml i have so many regrets making this my layout but i have to persevere for the sake of consistency. #i must #twice fics

[sanemisstalker]

Could you maybe delve more into Sanemi’s kinks, if you’re feeling up to it 👀

Baby, i wont deny. He makes me fucking whacko. Fucking. whacko. I will never not feel up to doing him.

CW / The content warnings are the labels.

Pet Play (Dog, Recieving)- @/akaza-chaos and I have had day long conversations about this fucking topic-

On every forefront, truly every forefront, I think Sanemi enjoys pet play. Collared, caged, marking, barking, breeding. He likes head pats, being called a good boy, pampering/grooming, he likes to be called a mutt, wear a tail plug and the stupid fucking ears.

He. Is. A. Dog. Nothing will put this bitch in subspace faster than a well timed pat on the head and a loving 'Good Boy'

Leash him, walk him around nude. Tell him he has to pee outside because 'that's how all let's do'. He is your personal use mutt. He loves to rut against things, especially your leg, truly delusional about going into heat.

He cums like a dog, too. Only knotting you in theory but needing to stay inside, begging his seed to take. He's an animal, his one responsibility to reproduce.

I think it's a safe space for him. A loosened collar compared to the one of his everyday life. Not that He'd ever be able to articulate or even grasp such a thing.

Nipple Piercings-

This is self indulgent, but I think He'd be kind of fascinated by the willingness for pain. Constantly asking to see them. Maybe rub them (you can totally talk him into getting his pierced.)

He just thinks they're neat. Maybe a little stupid, but neat.

Overstimulation-

Sanemi loves how it feels to be fucked blind. The blood rushing from that heavy head to his eager cock. I think he cums hard and a lot, and I think his recovery is all the stronger-

Which is why he seeks out rapid and repetitive stimulation- He needs to get it all out. He's got so much to think about, you just have to fuck it out of him! Obviously.

He imagining tying a small vibe to his tip and riding him so he turns into your own personal dildo. He's going in and out of your needy hole, doing his best to stay up but he's cum for the umpteenth time now and he's actually blacking out- his balls feel like they burn-

Mmmmmmm

Forced Bisexuality- dub-con (obviously)

I had a very long, grouped set of paragraphs for this, but I felt like I could get my idea down shorter.

I think Sanemi doesn't have a wandering eye, I think he has a wondering one. A natural inclination for sexual curiosity. Sexual curiosity he would not be willing to partake in unless pushed by his lover's whims.

Would he want it? Undeniably. I think, through various Sanemi like stubborn, uncommunicated circumstances, you would easily grasp his subtle asks.

He might look off put, and might even be a little bitey about the whole subject, but it is undeniable that he loves the sensation of a cock battering his prostate while a pussy contracts around him.

He loves how it feels to be made limp in a girl, while a bigger, stronger man abuses his backside, egging him on to fuck her- fuck her while he uses him, go on and try. And he does, because he's Sanemi, and he'll never not try, but the bastard is just fucking using him, and it's so hard to move his hips to please the girl beneath him-

He'd do his best to not collapse on her- Whispering praises in her ear because the only thing moving his hips is the beating from the other man's. That stimulation from both ends must be something else.

Degradation-

I think Sanemi will take any insult you throw at him in bed. Be it in a teasing, domineering way, or a brattish 'you're really going to let me talk to you like that?' I think Sanemi is perfectly capable of taking care of himself in both situations, and coming out with his own little sense of victory.

He's not prone to praising, this one just feels better. Makes him think less.

Favourite names include: Dog, Mutt, Anything that implies he's inhuman in an animal kind of way, slut, Cum dump.

Likes to be told he is practically an animal- He fucks like breeding stock, like a rabbit- fast and hard, and if you point it out it'll make him go faster and harder. He loves the idea that he's so clouded by you, that you're appeal is just enough to make him snap and go feral.

Tell him he's acting like a bitch in heat, it might just break him.

Free use (Recieving)-

I have an ask about this brewing in my inbox, and baby when I get to it it you all are going to be ill.

It's only a fantasy, he reasons. Never something He'd actually be able to or even prone to do-

He can take load after load, though, and be good to go til the end of the night. Everyone that comes in to use him is complimenting his body, so interested in his abs that he works so hard on, only to use him like he's a dildo/fleshlight and then leave him heaving on the ground, his own cum splattered up to his tits.

He's tied up and muzzled so he won't bite- only allowed to remove the jaw cage to give head with fervent, almost dehydrated need.

A couple of stray 'what a well trained man's would get him through the night with a smile on his cum covered face.

Femdom-

:D

I think Sanemi has a very special subspace he's able to be in. For such a gruff and imposing man, he is certainly subservient sexually. Willing to do just about anything and just about everything for his sexual dominant. Especially if it's a woman.

Sanemi is in need of a gentle dominant primarily. Rough and hard comes when he just won't break on an idea and has to be reminded that it's not his place to think about such awful self reflections. He is master's dog, after all.

That dog thing doesn't just extend to pet Play. I think Sanemi is genuinely dog like in his approach to people. Like a really fucked up, rabies infected dog- You have to approach him tentatively, and then commit to active training.

Sanemi loves being trained- loves being put through the physical ringer to impress- loves being denied, being told what to say, why he should say it- Loves being guided, being cared for and pampered- even if he'd sooner take a sword to the gut than admit this publicly.

He is a wonderful submissive, a five-star one in fact. You just have to break that little self-hate habit (and maybe house train him) and he'll be just fine.

Public-

He really gets a thrill out of doing it in front of others. He moreso likes to dominate in these moments, be a good, praised fuck delivering pleasure to some other exhibitionist while people jeered and clapped.

Maybe it's the crowd, and his ego, but Sanemi's dick is big, and he's a stellar lay. He'll never not want to hear these things, and making someone scream that out infront of others? Reminding everyone in the room of who the biggest and the baddest, the best and finest is?

He's so thankful he can control his orgasms, because if he couldn't, he'd be incapable of keeping up.

Anal (Giving/Recieving)-

I think Sanemi has a bigger prostate than most other AMAB's, and it leads him to enjoy anal more.

As for why he likes dominating with anal, it's because he likes toying with your dick/cunt to see how it makes your ass clench around him. Cowgirl Anal? He insists you hold a vibe so he can feel you quiver around him- Missionary Anal? Some of his fingers are buried in your hole/ circling your tip.

He loves, loves fucking cum into your ass. It makes him feel raunchy- and dirty. Likes he's properly claimed you in every hole. When it drips out, he pushes it back in, fingering your already abused gape.

Loves to see you gape, too. Honestly think he prefers giving anal to receiving it just so he can see that slutty gape when he pulls out. He can go so so fucking deep

Pegging-

Same reason he likes anal and femdom- He likes being put in his place lol.

#demon slayer x reader #demon slayer smut #hashira x reader #sanemi x reader #sanemi smut #sanemi x y/n #sanemi x you

[desires-of-chain]

Tasty brain brought up a scenario straight out of those 90s shoujo mangas (you know the ones. With all the political intrigue and psychological warfare) where the reader is isekaid and ends up being a concubine for protection. But. BUT. OHOHOHO, I'm not going to the dubcon, sexist crap here!

Let's put it this way: headcanon where in Hyrule, there's a honeymoon period of a month whenever someone gets married or got a new concubine. Because what if they're strangers? We're not gonna jump straight into baby making right away, there needs to be adjusting periods, getting to know each other, easing each other into intimacy especially if one or both parties are virgins, etc etc depending on the social norms regarding intimacy and sex allowed between unmarried people prior akjdjdkd so we got lotsa time for talking, teasing, and loads of foreplay until they do ittt and indulge in kink.

Reader and Fierce Deity are very Respectful. There's defs a power imbalance in a lot of things so they gotta navigate around that and have talks over cultures to avoid misunderstandings. (See 🎀 here furiously hammering away the typical tropes that cockblock or destroy fun, consensual sex.) Also, as soon as they figured out the mutual horniness and actual affection, they immediately start hashing out the stuff they are fine with and how to proceed with it with ALL THE TEASING AND FLIRTING AND SEXUAL TENSION. Maybe it's Reader who's the virgin. Maybe it's Fierce Deity. Maybe both. Or maybe they're both experienced and just hashing things out before they jump in the bed or the nearest surface.

People are gonna expect Fierce Deity always being the dominant one but NO, THAT'S NOT FUN AT ALL, NO, HE LIKES IT WHEN HE SURRENDERS AND GETS REWARDED FOR IT. People tend to focus waaay too much on one aspect of the war god and HERE'S HIS TINY BRIDE ACCEPTING EVERY ASPECT OF HIM. They're both switches but Fierce Deity is yet to experience the joys of being a sub because everyone is too damn scared "to be that audacious go a god." (To be fair, they're right, but Fierce Deity is a pleasant sort of exception.) Tiny mortal is a dom of the scariest mofo in the pantheon. People would not believe it, that's too absurd, right?

People would not know about a war god on his knees, head between his concubine's thighs and lips inches away from her core, only because his concubine is holding a leash taut and the collar is keeping him at that agonizing distance. He can break out of it but he's not going to. Or perhaps his concubine had been sneaky and created the collar and leash out of divine materials again to render him truly helpless. No one else but her would know about how hard his cock gets when he's powerless and at her mercy and forced to beg for a taste of her.

No one would know about when he had been on top, fucking her ruthlessly and keeping her from her own release, the woman who would grin and have the gall to goad him, insulting how he's taking her: "Are you a really god or just dog in a rut?" And he'd promptly make his rude little wife submit, lovingly break her like how she lovingly breaks him.

There's loads more in my head, like the fact she's made concubine and NOT his wife since a) she doesn't want to be immortal (yet) and b) divine politics: nobody is gonna want a mere mortal to get elevates to their level, she gotta be immortal first! But I'm still in a horny mood so focus on sexy times it is!

-🎀

🎀 anon, bestie, i'm eatin this shit up. I swear if you don't continue, I'm gon go feral. /j

okay, okay, but like I love the idea of reader being a lil shit to Fierce in bed and also domming him???? I JUST KNOW THAT MAN IS NUTTIN' ON THE SPOT.

#.bea answers #smut #🎀 anon

[beggingwolf]

The "I'm his dog/he's my dog" line is SO compelling. May I offer sid/Tanger? Or I think Geno would HAPPILY be Sids dog

the issue with geno is I don't think he's consistently rabid enough. he's a hard worker, and he snaps and loses his shit sometimes, but there are also moments where he deeply wants to be lazy/uninvolved/not-a-part-of-this-bullshit-thank-you

although that is a very valid way to be a dog (hello greyhounds) I don't think it works for a "he's my dog" relationship. what those need is an inherent power imbalance that is often, but not always, created BY these characters as a part of their identities—like, they CHOOSE to be that guy's dog, it brings them satisfaction and pleasure—and MOST IMPORTANTLY those relationships need a deeply unhinged guy who is going to let someone else be the sole moral guiding light in their life. those relationships are the best when one guy's a weapon and the other guy holds the trigger under his finger, you know?

and sadly I just don't think geno has the right precise type of attitude for that. he likes making decisions for himself (after reading the room a bajillion times to suss out what everyone is going to think of his decision and weighing the scales in his head), and he likes saying stop when he wants to stop, and he likes provoking reactions and hiding behind someone else to take the heat [in this case, hiding in the showers to avoid talking about his great game].

the thing about geno is he doesn't like tension, he likes performance. a good dog/owner dynamic is about that tension. geno wants to get upset, be loud, do something dangerous, and then storm off with the camera on him while stewing in a bit of healthy shame about it all. he's all about catharsis, baby. the simmering tension of an animal and the person holding its leash is all tension, no resolution.

a dog character needs to have no control. they are an animal, they are ready to bite, maul, maim—they have no interest in playing coy or being sly and choosy in their deployment of power. they just want to be a knife. they want to bite. their whole thing is needing a collar and a leash and someone to hold it. and it's an HONOR to hold that leash, but the dog will still fight against it sometimes. they're a dog, after all. they're not well-trained. they want a steady hand. they want someone to tell them "no," and to tell them "yes." and they want to fight against it. and you're never really gonna know who truly has the power. the owner controls the leash. the dog LETS itself be leashed by the owner. without the leash, who are they to each other? why do they bind themselves to each other this way?

geno chooses to be loyal to sid every time he has the chance and it makes him such a tempting candidate for the dog position, because that unwavering loyalty is undeniably crucial to the role. where he stops fitting the mold is he will sometimes wrestle that power back and take over and start making all the decisions just how HE wants to. and that kind of agency just isn't allowed to a leashed animal.

you know who IS going to hone themselves into a weapon and then place their hilt into sid's hand?

kris. kris is. kris does.

[sapphic-agent]

I'm curious! What are your thoughts on Lilith? What are your theories and predictions on her? What do you hope to see from the show on her?

Thank you for asking!

I have a lot of thoughts on Lilith. For one, we know it can't be a coincidence that both her and Alastor left around the same time. We know Alastor isn't at full power because of a deal he made. There's a lot pointing to Lilith being the one he made a deal with, ergo her being the one who has him on a leash.

It explains why he sought Charlie out in the first place. He made it clear in the pilot (yes I finally watched it) that he doesn't think Sinners can be redeemed. So for him to disappear at the same time as Lilith and then reappear and partner with her daughter very much implies that she's the one he's indebted to.

Lilith and Adam made a deal and it's heavily implied that it was to grant her access to heaven. I think that Adam offered Lilith access to heaven to get her to stop influencing the uprising (as it's implied she does this in the first episode).

So what is Lilith and Alastor's deal and how did it come to be?

This is a stretch, but I think Alastor was hurt after a fight, maybe on the brink of death (either after his fight with Vox- Valentino says Alastor almost defeated him, this implies their fight ended in a draw- or maybe one of the Sins). Lilith found him and helped him, but didn't restore him to full power. Since, due to her deal, she could no longer encourage the uprising, she ensured that Charlie would be able to with the help of a powerful, cunning ally who could teach her how to influence, encourage, and lead.

(I mean, come on. The one thing Alastor taught her was how to use a smile to her advantage. To inspire her friends and leave her enemies guessing. And then he brought her to Rosie to test her abilities in gathering an army. Alastor is there to teach her, whether he shows it or not)

Charlie's love for her people had to have come from Lilith. Lucifer thinks lowly of Sinners after his attempts were crushed by Heaven, so it had to have been Lilith who encouraged that care. It was likely her influence that pushed Charlie to have those ideals. If More Than Anything is truly implying that she kept Charlie away from Lucifer, it could be so that his pessimism towards Sinners couldn't dissuade her.

Did you guys know that Charlie is apparently only 200 years old? Lucifer and Lilith have been in Hell for thousands of years, since the story of Adam and Eve. Isn't it kind of odd that they only had a kid in the 1800s? And why, after even that, did Lilith only get into Heaven 7 years before the current events?

Call me crazy, but I think Lilith has a game plan here. Here's what I think is happening:

Lilith loves her people. She doesn't think lowly of them because they're "bad people," she thinks they should be free to express themselves and be who they are

Lucifer regrets his choices. He regrets giving humans knowledge and blames himself for humanity being evil. Lilith realizes this and starts to resent him for it

Lilith thinks her people don't deserve to rot in Hell, as she resonates them being damned to her and Lucifer being punished when they had good intentions. She starts encouraging them to uprise and demand better

Sera, worried about the citizens of Heaven, gives Adam permission to start the Extermination

Lilith recognizes that this is a losing battle. Heaven is too strong and demons don't have the means to fight back. Her songs of influence haven't been enough and her people are suffering. So she convinces Lucifer to have a baby. Someone who will bring in a new era, and someone Heaven will never take as a serious threat until it's too late

Lilith has Charlie and raises her with love for their people and strong ideals. She tells the story of how her and Lucifer met, painting them as good people with good intentions and stressing that they were unfairly punished. Charlie takes this to heart, also wanting better for their people. Lilith keeps Charlie away from Lucifer, afraid that he'll have her thinking the worst of Sinners

As she raises Charlie, Lilith waits for the right moment she can put her plan into action. She happens upon the Radio Demon Alastor on the brink of death and takes the opportunity. She heals him, but seals his power, promising to restore it if he acts as a mentor to Charlie and teaches her how to lead the Demons against Heaven. Her end goal is either to complete the uprising against Heaven or redeem Sinners. I'm not sure, but getting rid of the Exterminations for good is definitely part of it. (I also think it's possible that Alastor challenged her, she made a deal depending on the outcome of their fight, and he lost. Either one works in this situation)

After making the deal with Alastor, Lilith reaches out to Adam. She agrees to stop the uprising if she can be welcomed to Heaven. This isn't to enjoy Heaven, it's to get herself out of the picture so that Sera and the other angels won't suspect that an uprising is what's actually happening

This is actually kind of supported by the deal Alastor and Charlie made. He gets a favor of his choosing at any time where she doesn't hurt anyone. This could very well be either getting her to convince Lilith to absolve their deal or pushing her into becoming the leader of Hell and liberating Hell, therefore fulfilling the deal.

Some people are suspecting that Lilith betrayed her husband, daughter, and people to live in paradise. And I can't believe that. Lilith, from what we've seen, takes pride in her people and was close with her daughter. And she's someone who prioritizes freedom, expression, knowledge, etc. I can't see her being content to live peacefully in Heaven. Ultimately, I think she's the one pulling the strings here and making sure Charlie is ready to be a leader when the time comes, liberating their people.

Lute is in for a ride awakening when Lilith does return to Hell

#lilith morningstar #lilith hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel speculation #hazbin hotel theory #charlie morningstar #alastor altruist #lucifer morningstar #anon ask

[evilwriter37]

Last night I made an Amazon wish list for the babies instead of doom scrolling and I thought I’d send you an ask since your followers probably know more about my pets than my own. So, if anyone has the ability and wants to get my babies anything, feel free.

If you’re a follower of Archer and somehow managed to dodge all of my asks with my babies, then here’s an introduction.

This is Mora. She is a five year old long haired calico with a tiny little bobtail. She was born with it according to vets. She was found in a ditch when she was just a couple weeks old with her siblings. I kept her while her siblings all found homes elsewhere.

She is a spunky, clumsy, cuddly little girl. When I say little, I mean little. She weighs five pounds. She likes to play with her claws and lay on my head when I’ve slept I’m too long. She drools when she’s happy and gives the most pitiful, pathetic meow when she’s upset, like when I try to get her to take her allergy medicine. . . She is winning on that regard. I’ll think I’ve gotten her to take it and then boom! Ten minutes later I find it in the middle of the room. I don’t know how she does it.

This is Nebula. She is a six year old short haired dilute calico. She found me the day that one of our old family pets passed away and has been with me ever since.

She is very calm, precise, and deadly. She enjoys going outside and taking care of the rat problem we have. She will wake me up in the middle of the night of she hears something skittering in the walls. Once she snuck a cicada inside. Don’t worry though, she’s well watched when she goes outside by both me and people who work nearby. They’ve tried to give her pets but alas, she only likes them from me. Truly an honor.

This is Tiadrin. She is a two year old lhasa apao and poodle mix. She came into my life soon after the passing of my best friend.

She is energetic (as all puppies seem to be), very friendly, and just all around so sweet. She loves playing fetch and sharing her opinions. If I do not give her a treat before bed. . . Oh, dear, is everyone going to know. She’s not just a spoiled little girl though. No, no, no. She is very smart and we are currently working on some training. I just need to figure out how to make her stay still for long enough to learn that no matter how much she wants to say hi to every person she meets, the leash is not going to go slack. . . She’s so small though that the harness I have for her is loose (but of course if I get a size smaller it’ll be too small) and she can slip out of it. I persist regardless!

This is Brother Bear. He is an eleven year old lab mix. I got him when he was just an itty bitty baby with his sister (who is no longer with us).

He is a very anxious baby. He and his sister were very, very close and since she passed he’s been so very lost. He found some comfort in my boy Scooby but now he’s no longer with us either. He and Nebula have been grieving together.

It’s not all sadness for this boy though. Despite his arthritis and several other health issues, he is still so energetic and so loving. He can out play me any day. He gives my hand kisses and lets me give him long hugs. We often times just lay with each other by our side. He is such a comforting, calming presence with far more patience than I will ever have.

So, here’s some more about the babies if you knew them already and here’s your introduction if you don’t. I’m starting up school in a couple months and most of my money will be going towards that when I can finally find a job, so if you want to spoil them while I can’t, please feel free to!

I love your pets so much, but you already knew that. I'm sure my followers love them too!

Spoil their pets if you can! They're cuties!

#asks #cats #dogs #animals #long post

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

on our fates alight--mothercrystal's ruling

Minfila inhaled deeply. Winning Riven over had been cause for celebration. They had to prove themselves to her, but the fact that Valefor's Dominant was at least willing to extend them some measure of trust-! Tataru was now currently in the process of trying to track down Y'shtola and Zoissette, as they would be the better ones to aid Riven in her research. But Valefor's Domiant wasn't the only one who had come to the Waking Sands...

Odin. The mysterious Eikon that had haunted Gridana, who had vanished close to a decade ago. The most that Papalymo and Yda had been able to discover was that there had been a story amongst the Wood Wailers of someone Priming in the Black Shroud. Otherwise the trail had gone completely cold... until recently. Word of Site Sixteen had made it across the Indigo Deep to Aldenard, and Moenbryda had been able to obtain the more sordid details in dispatches from her parents. For close to a century, the Sharlayan secret lab had been kidnapping and conducing unethical experiements on Dominants. The disappearance of Thaliak's Eikonic shard--and the entire bloodline to which he had favored-was the fault of Site Sixteen. And that up until recently, two other Eikons had been subjected to unspeakable horrors--Odin and Valefor.

Sebastian Astralyas and Riven DeGlass.

It was the former who had Primed all those years past in the Shroud. The information Tataru had been able to gleam was sparse, but supplemented by Moenbryda's own gatherings, Minfilia could form a basic picture. Sebastian had been part of a group of traveling scholars sent overseas by Sharlayan--which was normal for the city-state. Travel the world, gather new knowledge to bring home. Their work had taken them into the Shroud--where Odin had possibly recongized Sebastian as a bloodline carrier of his power. Sebastian had then Primed--and at the time, had been promised he would find help and assistance for his new condition if he returned to Sharlayan.

Instead the minute he arrived back home he was placed in chains and flung into hell. Sebastian's former mentor--Forum Member Iato Ueda, and his former lover, Lycelle Glycen--had been the ones to betray him. Iato had been the head of Site Sixteen at the time, with Lycelle being his assistant. The two had become Sebastian and Odin's torturers. Minfilia closed her eyes, trying to imagine the depth of the betrayal Sebastian had felt. From all accounts of him prior to his first Priming, he had been a sweet, quiet and gentle scholar. He'd been deeply in love with Lacelle, and had just started the grueling study path towards an Archon's mark. And now years later, Odin was barely more than a ribbon of Darkness. Sebastian was now a violent, bitter, vengeance-driven man. Minfilia remembered the argument that had sparked between Thancred and Sebastian when Riven had first brought him to the Rising Stones.

You assume I have a heart or soul left. Let me disabuse you of that notion. They're both gone. Stop projecting your personal issues onto me, Archon Waters, and go suppress them with drink and whores as is your supposed normal wont.

"But they're not." Minfila murmured. Sebastian tried so hard not to care, to keep his walls high-but the Doniant of Hydaylan could see. The kind man that he had been once...he still existed. He was darker, different, changed--but still there. If Sebastian had become truly heartless, he wouldn't have helped Riven hold onto her sanity while she was imprisioned. He wouldn't have decided to seek out Riven after his escape and offer his skills as her guardian and protector. And there would have been a consideribly larger trail of bodies in his wake. No, Sebastian was still in possession of both his heart and soul, willingly giving over the leash on his worst impulses to a most unlikely baby sister. And perhaps the influence of the Scions could further help with both the Dominant and the Eikon's overall healing.

It doesn't mean that he won't try anything...or rather, attempt to try something. And for that, Minfila had already determined that she would put her foot down. Not as the leader of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, but as the Mothercrystal's Dominant. All Eikons had to submit to her authority, and if Sebastian wanted to enjoy the benefits of being a Scion, he would obey the rules and not test their good graces.

--------

@driftward

our fates alight--general masterpost here

#ffxiv #ffxiv-ffxvi au (the other one) #on our fates alight #minfilia warde #minfila fucking CLOCKED sebastian the moment she laid eyes on him

[anemodaycare]

In your Adrian post you mention regression is more common amoungst the coven heads then they thought. Are there other coven heads who agere as well? Do you have some hc on them?

I do!! Personally, I think that Raine, Hunter, and Lilith (they may be ex coven heads but they count in my heart) also regress! I think the other coven heads are just used to it at this point.

But anyway! Here's

Raine Whispers, Lilith Clawthorne, and Hunter Agere Headcanons!

Raine Whispers:

They regress to cope with stress, both brought on from being a coven head and worrying about things in general

Anxiety will do that to ya

Raine's regression space can range from 5-10, but it mostly ends up being lower on that range

When they were a teen, Eda was their caregiver

Now that they don't really have anyone, they try not to regress

Terra found out a while ago and things were not pretty. Raine hates her more than anything

They stay in their quarters and lock themselves away

In their quarters, they have a hidden toy chest and old stuffed animals that Eda won them

They are 10x more emotional when little and honestly a little bit of a cry baby

They've restricted themselves from using their scroll while little

Last time they did, Eda got a text from a very small Raine

"mmmmiss u moma"

They usually pretend that it didn't happen afterwards

Their quarters are sound proofed thanks to the last bard head

So when they're small, they have little dance parties and sing to their stuffies

It doesn't scare them! Those are their friends!

They love chewlery

Their favorite piece of chewlery is shaped like a butterfly and half chewed through

Strong jaw.

They stim a lot when alone

Mostly small jumps and flapping their hands

They refuse to drink any tea when small

They have thrown it when given

A tragedy, truly. That time out was brutal

Lilith Clawthorne:

Similar to Raine, she also regresses due to stress

She also feels like she's lost so many years of her life to the Emperor's guild and man. that really stung to think about

Her age range is a lot smaller, mostly around 2-3

Thankfully, Gwendolyn understands and encourages it, so she finally gets all of her mom's attention!

She's a very happy toddler, surprisingly

Very cuddly, as well

Her palisman will nest in her hair while she's regressed to keep her constant company

If she's left alone for too long, she cries. A lot.

She loves being carried

Which. is good because she has a strong mom

While she was living at the Owl House with Eda and Luz, she spent a lot of time with Hooty

"Hootsifier" turns into "Hoo"

Hooty is. Crying tears of joy

Lilith loves coloring. So so much

It's easy and stress free

While she was at the Owl House, her and Eda did it a lot

"This is just like when we were kids, Lily!"

"Mmhmhmhmhm!"

Ever since she's left the coven, she's just been a lot happier

Hunter:

He is so baby coded.

He deserves a childhood. And a good one

His age range is mostly 0-4

He's a very cranky kiddo if he's not constantly attended to

Thankfully. His caregiver (and dad) is Darius

Darius won't admit it, but he is sort of a helicopter parent

Hunter wants nothing more than to play with others

But he is much too tiny.

Thankfully! The Emerald Entrails are incredibly understanding

They work together for some killer babysitting

And Hunter gets to be with his favorite friends and play! It's a big win for him

Flapjack is never far behind. That bird is almost as bad as Darius

He can't choose a favorite activity

He wants to do everything, all of the time

Is it to make up for lost time? Or is it just him being an excitable baby?

Also really big on being carried and cuddled

He hides under Darius' cape when he's overwhelmed and small

"Little Prince.. What are you doing there?"

"Hide.. Dada help!"

My favorite au. Where Hunter just gets to be a kid and taken care of

He has a cardinal bottle and paci

He carries around his frog plush

Please hold his hand. He needs it

Darius has a leash for him. It's attached to a backpack so he doesn't wander too far

He can't help it! He's curious!

#sfw agere #fandom agere #toh agere #i call this one. i get side tracked because im thinking about raine #hunter deserves the world. so much #agere raine #agere lilith #(underated btw.) #agere hunter

[classificationhell]

YOOOO THANK YOU SO MUCH I really appreciate it! :D :D :D

now, if possible some reactions from Charlie “for example”

keep in mind this is the extermination before the canon one where carmilla kills to protect her kids,

but for some odd reason… the amount of omegas and littles don’t go down in numbers? Why you may ask? AHA THE MISFITS BABY, the misfits have built many defensive bases or whatever in their territory

the hell hounds with the knowledge of building defences helped a lot with this

so, a lot of omegas, littles heard about it and went there for protection (others too but mainly omegas and littles)

how would some reaction to this twist? Knowing what the misfits are Truly capable of?, originally it was polar and co being OUT in the middle of it, but then I realized Adam would have discovered them,

BUT THIS WAY, it’s sort of unknown, lowkey see the misfits making the 666 news

thanks again! :D

hope your day is going well so far! :D

I'll do the V's and the main hotel crew.

The V's:

Now he won't be as hostile as he was with Alastor but they will get a smear campaign on his news broadcast for about ten minutes. Velvette is actively stalking social media and shadow banning anyone who gets too much traction with the Misfits in a positive light while signal boosting those who do it in a negative light. Valentino is wanting more and more to have a new star, but Vox talked him down from going nuclear. They just got lucky.

Charlie:

She very much approves and the Hotel is a safespace for Littles and Omegas so if they need help she's down.

Vaggie: More trusting than just meeting them, but really only helping because of Charlie. She likes them well enough but she isn't about to get in a turf war or anything like that. Will gladly help care for any O's or L's that come in though. She's low-key proud of what they're doing though.

Alastor:

He thinks it's great entertainment, but such an upheaval could be disastrous towards his own mysterious goals. Not that he wants O's and L's to be hurt or anything, it's just simply hard to tell how things in hell will shift with such a new concept, and his plans need as little room for error as possible. If he wants his leash untethered he needs to be able to reliably predict how anyone and everyone would act. If things start to get a little too hectic due to this group then unfortunately they'll have made another enemy, nothing personal, just business. Alastor refuses to let anyone have the slightest possibility of interfering with his own freedom.

Husk: Another low-key proud but won't see this progress as retainable as they'll have enemies around nearly every corner and one mistake could spell the end of their blossoming movement. The Hotel has the Morningstars to rely on for protection, but the Misfits only have each other in terms of real power.

Angel Dust: Well shit they did it. Is with Husk on thinking it's unsustainable though.

#ask response #memes #hazbin hotel memes #classificationhell #lore adjacent #reactions #the Misfits

[androgynealienfemme]

"Painkillers. I think I must have taken every pill short of the ones they use for birth control. I mean, like, I wouldn't know how to begin to get pregnant, but I could deal with modern technology coming up with a treatment to ease this one pain that won't let me rest in peace sometimes.

I may not be anybody's prize-winning puppy, but I'm all I've got and I like to take good care of the old girl. It took me a long time to understand the kid and get used to my evil ways, but I came around, I like being a butch. I like being with other butches with our nicknames and ball games- women with muscles and pretty faces. I don't believe in bisexuals and cannot for the life of me find a femme. I don't like men and I don't let them fuck me.

For me to live in this man's world, I need some kind of painkiller, something I can pull out at a moment's notice and put between me and the men on the street, because sometimes, I could really kill 'em. They're just the foulest beasts walking on two feet and they're always in packs, just like dogs. It wouldn't be so bad if the women that like them so much would keep them on leashes, curb them, and shoot the strays, but the dudes be all over the place pissing and dropping their turds every which way. And even faggots piss on trees.

So, like, between the men and the dogs, I need some way to keep the weight off my head. I live in New York City, and we dykes may be everywhere like the t-shirts and buttons say, but there aren't that many of us running around loose and free. And I get tired of watching my back and front, and having to look sideways because these men are so damn crazy.

It's not like there's a neighborhood or a space that's all our own where we could have gone to, hung out at, and worked through our growing pains as baby butches. I guess a lot of us learned our ways alone and in secret and we still come out with all the different styles of butches. I really dig on how I can always tell another butch, even if she's in straight drag.

I know for me, I used to read a lot of books. They had this soft-core pornography in the sixties that I gobbled up as a young girl, with titles like Strange Friends, Forbidden Love, The Twilight World, and The Lonely People. On the covers there'd be these women looking very unhappy, like they were yearning for something they'd never be able to have. I could tell just by the titles which books were meant to be about me, and after a while, I knew that if the last page had a man and a woman talking together, it wasn't a happy ending.

It was hard buying the happy endings. I was in my early teens going to the counter with all the shame and fear that the man I'd have to pay would know what I was reading about, and by that, know what it was- something bad, a subject for pornography. I'd sneak the books into the house and wouldn't even want to share them with my brother, who'd been my first and best friend, and is one man I'd kill for still. I'd feel worse about myself, because he and I had always shared our various and assorted treasures like dirty books, but not these: I'd read them by myself under the covers with a flashlight and hide them under my mattress until Friday, when my mother would change the sheets, and on that day, I'd hide my secret life in the closet.

I used to buy the idea that I was "sick." The "sick" theory gave me some whys and wherefores about the way I had to take to bed to learn about what straight boys and girls are able to go find out with each other in alleyways, backyard, parks, and the movies. I didn't know then that what I was reading was truly the perverted version. That pornography was written for straight men- including all the psycho-socio-anthropological scientific bullshit studies on gay women were written by Ph.D.s.

I look back now and see where those books and their ideas rotted my guts and crippled my moral structure. The real crouch and limp came from the drafting of my people - women-loving women- as the whipping girls so that straight society could feel high and holy.

Folks can see the most honorable and upright butch bopping the streets, minding her own business, and they can have a righteous fit over her. We don't have to do anything except be our natural selves and some of these people will think they have a perfect right to use us as toilet paper and then go home to plot us into their fantasies. Men always do this to women any which way: wiping all their mess on some woman who is by herself and they're in a bunch in front of their corner store. After they make their little comments and noises, they're all smiling and at ease and feeling good and cooled out with each other.

If you watch the woman, she looks embarrassed and angry. She feels stupid and she's usually trying to cover that up and pretend that none of it affects her. Now if she's the type of butch who won't calmly take the shit, the men will have to work harder to take it to another level if they want the satisfaction that comes from wiping a person away. They have to go and tell each other that she wants to be a man, or they can act as if they just can't understand "freaks" and how, "If she wants to be a man so bad, why doesn't she come out and fight like one?" Then that dude's brothers can go into their man act and have the pleasure of holding him back from suppposedly going after her ass. They'll be soothing themselves while trying to pull this one and be saying, "Hey, man. You got to be cool, because that is a woman and when she meets the right fella, she'll straighten up and fly right." And he says, "Yeah, man, I just got all beside myself. Bulldaggers and faggots, jim. Hey: you know they both use toilet paper for padding," and they laugh and slap five and their eyes are shining. Their whole beings lighten up. They've jerked off and are relieved.

Okay, that's them. They got to feeling whole and healthy, but the butch-type woman who said, "Fuck y'all. You can keep your shit and kiss my ass behind it," is mad as hell and fit to be tied. She doesn't have anybody on hand that she can make sense to. There's no dog she can kick or make a nigger out of to transfer her shit to, so she's got to carry the load and steam with those juices, sweating it out alone. She probably takes it home and finds it in the mirror in frowns and frustration.

So you can see why I talk about a painkiller. I would like to have a pill that I could share with everybody fair and square. We'd all pop it and come the next day, the streets would be cleared of men, the straight women would loosen up, and the butches would be at least with each other. That's what I would call medical attention for a serious disease that's getting epidemic. I think we should give the afflicted hope: let them know: homophobia can be cured."

"Butch on the Streets, 1981" by Donna Allegra, The Persistent Desire: A Butch/Femme Reader, edited by Joan Nestle (1992)

#the persistent desire #the persistent desire: a butch femme reader #Joan nestle #Donna Allegra #lesbian #lesbianism #lesbian history #butch #butch lesbian #femme #femme lesbian #butch history #butch lit #butchfemme #butchfemme history #lgbtq+ #lesbian lit

[finiffy]

"Four horsemen" is only a name, it is not about the title it is about... Well i don't know but d-a anon and a few more anons i am lazy to count the names of are always part of the clup. More than i am truly, they're one of the originals. Also dont worry Fin we keep K***y on a baby leash, we gave him a misogynistic playboy magazine so he's calm now -lemonadeanon

Thank you lemonade, I trust you to take care of him

#fin answers #lemonadeanon

[wyrmfedgrave]

Pics:

1. As usual, the Rump trumps other news stories - no matter how much more important these other stories might be.

His many cases are now the "Trials of the Century" - for how long they're taking to indict this criminal clown...

2. The economy might be great for the corporations but, expensive to the rest of us.

Worse, there's no end in sight!!

The Democrats need to win big at the polls, to be able to provide us with any real help...

We need to vote in as many Democrats (into high office) as possible.

Then, we can collect higher taxes from the illegal corporate price hikes - retroactively!!

And, use that money to help pay off the U.S. loans now owed...

Or, actually help the poor & homeless!

Or, prepare the U.S. infrastructure for that new "water fuel" (for cars).

Or, (write in something that our country truly needs)...

3 & 4. Texas & Florida are just some of the state governments infiltrated by the For Reich enablers.

They & other sycophants need to be charged for their various voting crimes, the January Insurrection & their racist behaviors as well.

5 & 6. And then, there's the Rump, whose criminal mug is now in most American homes - due to his endless news appearances.

His cry-baby tactics, rude court acts & many threats to others have, so far, been treated with monetary slaps on his wrist...

HELLO!!

We would all have been thrown into prison for our 1st or 2nd gag order infraction.

But no, the rich & powerful are usually treated with kid gloves in court...

And other places that they depend on.

7. In the end, we have what most of us will hopefully vote for; a total rejection of his Rumpness & enablers - due to the free peoples of the U.S.!!

Democratic voters have the numbers in their favor - if they bother to vote!

And, don't tell me that you don't 'like' Biden...

True.

All politicians need to be kept on a short leash.

But, Biden is, by far, the better man.

I'd vote for him if he was 100-years old & bedridden, rather than joining some criminal trying to overthrow our government.

The only way that Rump ever won the White House - was with help from our enemy, Russia.

tRump & his enablers are all traitors to our country & deserve to be executed!

What not to do:

1. Don't give in to voter fatigue & stay at home.

2. Don't vote for some fake '3rd Party' candidate trying to steal your vote for the Republikkkans.

Listen:

A. Your votes have never been quite as important as they are now...

B. Y'all literally hold the fate of the U.S. in your hands!

C. You're actually mightier than any President!!

So long as we can vote on each & every Election Day...

#political cartoons #history #aside #cost of living #now #Republikkkan bullying #Rump justice? #Best #Outcome #Possible?