#she’s still naive in a lot of ways thinking this world is how it was before

[too-antigonish]

Morse and drinking in the 70s...

Long....because I can't write short. And obviously, a lot of you will already know this stuff...

Just want to take a moment to talk about alcohol and alcoholism in the context of the early 1970s and remind folks of how totally and completely different it is from how we see it today.

Drunk driving had not been outlawed in most countries. Not only that, it was widely regarding as funny—funny enough to be used as a regular “gag” in movies. Problem drinking was also seen as funny. There were regular cartoon strips about it. The “drunk” was a funny stock character in all sorts of plays and movies.

Alcohol was ubiquitous. We’re not just talking liquid lunches. We’re talking drinking at work, while you work—just as you see in Endeavour. Think about that for a second.

And politely saying no wasn’t something you did without social consequences. It wasn’t just seen as a personal preference. Unless you had a specific, acceptable reason, turning down a drink was often seen as stand-offish and judgmental or as a social snub. Teetotalism was regarded as rather naive and ridiculous—not something any man or woman of the world would embrace.

In the early 1970s, there was no widespread understanding of alcoholism as a disease. It was still seen very much as the consequence of personal weakness—still a matter of “If you cared enough or tried hard enough, you wouldn’t do this so it must be a character flaw.”

Plus, most people, “normal” people don’t have problems with alcohol, so if you do then there’s something abnormal and defective about you—most likely something you brought upon yourself.

And as a “personal weakness” and a “defect,” the shame around it was profound and the secrecy matched. If someone went away for treatment, it was very much akin to an unwed mother going off to have her baby and then returning without the child. You never spoke of it. You pretended that it had never happened.

If you were a kind person, you also didn’t go out of your way to parade babies in front of her or talk constantly about children when she was with you. But refer to it directly? Never. Ask for help? Never. It was always something to be hidden. Everyone did their best to forget that it had ever happened and saw this as the "kindest" thing to do.

When Morse returns from his “cure,” it would simply be assumed that everyone would pretend that nothing unusual has happened. Why he’s  just been off on a tour of the West Country and nothing else! Hope you had a lovely time! That sort of polite fiction was exactly what he would have expected upon his return. Anything more direct—at least in a public setting—would have been shocking to him and everyone else.

Where things break down, however, is in the more personal interactions. His relationship with Thursday is such that they can at least broach the topic of drinking. When they do, my impression is that Thursday is well-aware that Morse not “cured.” However, in the context of the time, saying this would be akin to saying, "You failed," because there was no disease model of alcholism in widespread use. You went to be cured and it worked or it didn't.

However, I'd also add that Thursday is almost to the breaking point with the cumulative strain he is under. He can’t cope with the “burden” of Morse being in a precarious state and he knows it. He feels desperately guilty about that—as well as about other things like Strange and Joan or about life having moved on so much while Morse was gone—and so he just shuts down. 

Shutting down is Thursday’s go-to strategy when he’s overwhelmed. We’ve seen him do it many times before. And part of that for him, is that he pretends that the people around him are ok—even if they are anything but ok. Not surprisingly, he does it the most with the people he has the closest emotional ties with—Win, Joan, Sam, and Morse.

So the only way that Thursday can cope is by having Morse be perfectly fine. Conveniently, his preferred coping strategy fits exactly with his society's expectations about how alcoholism works. If Morse is "cured," you don’t need to worry about sparing him the constant offers of alcohol in the same way that the young unwed mother might hope to be spared babies. You certainly wouldn’t embarrass him (especially after he’s been through the humiliation of rehab) by drawing attention in any way to a possible to the idea that he still has a problem. 

And finally, a last note on time context. The scene in the pub where Morse has that first drink after finding out that Joan is marrying Jim is utterly heartbreaking for so many reasons. One of those reasons, however, is that we know it’s the first drink—and that the first drink leads to the second, and so on and so forth. Then Morse says to Thursday, “They said the, the odd beer, the odd shot, does no harm…"Everything in moderation," they said,”  and we automatically assume he’s lying.

I’m fairly sure that those scenes were meant to be interpreted through our modern viewpoint. However, it’s worth noting that again, the model of alcoholism in the 1970s was nothing like what we have today. The idea that someone with a drinking problem/addictions needs to abstain entirely was not even close to universal at that point. It’s perfectly possible that the advice Morse is quoting is the advice he received!

#itv endeavour #endeavour morse #shaun evans #fred thursday #endeavour: prelude #thursday thursday #sort of #but mostly meta about alcohol in endeavour and the 70s

[funnywormz]

i've been thinking a lot abt aging in dungeon meshi and how it's so different for the different races, but especially how it's so different for marcille. even among half-elf half-tallmen, they all tend to age at different rates both mentally and physically. marcille herself is implied to go through random growth spurts and spend some parts of her life aging like a tallman and other parts of it not aging at all. growing up she couldn't fit in with tallmen her own age bc they were already more mature than her, but she couldn't fit in with elves her own age either bc they were all much LESS mature.

i get the impression she's meant to be ~20 in appearance now, despite being abt 50 in her actual age. 50 is simultaneously really young for an elf, when elves live for like 500-1000 years, and pretty old for a tallman, and positively geriatric for a half-foot. and you can see all of these elements in her. in some scenes the way she throws tantrums and cries and is petty or easily excitable, makes her come across as childish. but then in other scenes she's far more mature and shows that she has a breadth of knowledge and power that comes from a very dark and ancient place. and sometimes you can FEEL that she's looking at the others thinking abt how she's still going to be in the prime of life long after they're dead.

the manga delves into it more, with her deepest desire being to equalise the lifespans between races, and the isolation she feels due to being half tallman half elf. and the fact that she could never have her own biological children and yet her lifespan is far longer than even most elves. that she brings falin back to life even while knowing that she could be imprisoned for it if the other elves find out, and wants her friends to live as long as she will, even though she knows they won't. full of so much life and yet all she wants to do is give it away so that others can live..........

there's also just the fact that her character feels very relatable from the perspective of someone in their 20s. she's simultaneously very grown up and wise but also naive and arrogant at times. alternating between feeling like she knows everything and nothing. independent and determined and yet struggles without the help of others. mature and dignified while also being childish and very silly. sometimes a strict rule follower and other times a literal criminal.

it's like she's caught between two worlds in so many ways. she's got so many conflicting traits just like real people have conflicting traits, and her own personality is constantly pulling her in different directions. idk where i'm going with this but man she contains multitudes. i love marcille so fucking much

#one of the characters of all time for sure #dungeon meshi #marcille donato

[ywuji]

Omg so like I want to hear your thoughts on perv!Megumi like finally after so long of Gojo teasing him for being in college for two years at this point and being single, he’s finally procured a pretty girlfriend who’s unfortunately (for her) so naive and sweet??🩷💕 Idk I got shy but I know you’ll do something good with this lol

ik i told u id post this after my wips but i started on it n i couldnt stop i liked the idea too much LOL im sorry for being so confusing D; tysm for the ask though!!! :o i rlly enjoyed writing this!!! (n don’t be shy ahjwhs you’re so lovely T_T♡)

perv!megumi !!! please i feel like he’s the type to be a pervert that’s kinda embarrassed n self aware about himself—especially bc gojo kept teasing him all those years n he was kinda just jacking off to whatever x-rated video that came up first (i feel like perv!megumi is highkey into hentai too but he’s taking that to the grave!!)

n when gets a pretty little girlfriend who acts so cute and who he loves so much, when he gets hard he can’t help but let some of that side of him slip out from time to time...

i think he’s also the type to take lots of pictures,, like pictures while you sleep, peeking through your door while you shower, in clothing store changing rooms while you change, upskirt pictures… he’ll make you his little model!! some of them you know about but some of them you don’t, he’s so lewd.

it’s not just pics of you he takes, it's some of himself too. i feel like one of the things he’d love to do to you is when you tell him to come with you to some random uni event, n he’ll randomly disappear in the middle of it, only to go to the bathroom to take pictures of his hard leaky cock to send you with some casual caption like he didn’t just do that ?!?! he’s crazy (more under the cut)

it’s not megumi’s fault he’s so in his head about you, he still just doesn’t really know how he managed to get someone as pretty and doting as you are as his. 

he sometimes feels guilty for being so obsessed with you—your body clad in pretty little outfits that you show off to him with a twirl, the way you’ll always show him your shiny new sparkly nails when you get them done, how he’s always the first one you’ll pick to talk to about something new you’ve found to love—it’s all that seems to be on his mind recently.

maybe it was gojo’s accidental doing, those feelings of guilt. unintentionally planting a little growing seed of shame in him the first few times he started teasing him for not having a partner yet at his ‘big age’, borderline lecturing him with the ‘when i was your age’ stuff—maybe that was the logical reason why he felt so attached to you, the reason he couldn’t help getting fully erect even when he only saw as much as a pair of your flung-away panties lying at the edge of your bed when coming to your room one day.

but when he recalls back to those nights where you’re innocently cuddled against him, watching whatever movie, a quiet ‘megumi?’ leaving your lips as a sign to tell him you’re falling asleep, and he finds himself shifting in his seat, carefully adjusting your head to let you rest comfortably on him, pressing a soft kiss to your hair as he strokes it and tells you a ‘sleep now, angel’, he knows that’s not the reason.

nevertheless, he’s always been worried about it, thoughts of ‘am i doing too much?’ or a ‘would she not like this?’ clouding his mind. but for every single thought like this he has, he’ll always have two more memories where he’s coming up to you, his sweet-faced little girlfriend, waiting for him with open arms and open heart. and to him, it means more than the world.

and as his cheerful sweetheart girlfriend, you’ve never really minded of course.

you know he’s at least a little perverted, asking to take those pictures of you trying on your new swimsuits, or bras, or skirts, or those times when he pulls out after spilling his load into you, and the first thing he does after making sure you’re okay is to go face-to-face with the trail of cum seeping out of you to snap a few photos.

honestly, you’ve gotten used to it at this point. you just take these moments, seeing what you do to him, as a way of reassuring yourself that he really does just love you that much. and he really does. really!! :(

no matter how innocent or dirty the context, he’ll let you know whenever he gets that warm little feeling in his chest.

“i-i love you,” he pants, head coming up from sucking marks on your neck, languid thrusts coming to a gentle stop as he peers up at you with flushed cheeks. it feels like he’s admitting it for the first time again.

when you stare at him with his same love-drunk look, brows furrowed and eyes pleading, whispering out an “i love you too, gumi”, he’ll pause a moment to study your expression before gently raising you further up the bed, hooking his hand under your leg and repositioning it around his waist.

he’ll drop down to press a kiss to your cheek before resting his chin on your shoulder and picking up the pace again, now only determined to make you cum.

when he thinks of times like these, despite what you’re doing together, it’s innocent in his head.

a time where that’s not so much the case though is when you persuade him to come with you to some uni exhibition event, looking up at him with hopeful, doe-like eyes and as many ‘pleeeaaase, gumi’s and ‘please, guuuum’s as you could muster—cause it’s not like he could say no to that, right?

at first he put up an act of feign stubbornness. but eventually he agreed—only when he knew you’d excitedly hug him and press your soft chest to his as a thank you for it though.

he’d tour the hall with you, watching you gaze in awe at everything with your cute, simple curiosity, occasionally pointing out little things in the pieces he liked. before the artist began their talk though, he got up from his seat, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before muttering a “‘m g’na go to the bathroom.”

in an empty stall, he’ll sit atop the lid and pull down his jeans, freeing his stiffening cock from his underwear. he quietly groans as he pumps himself a few times, a slow trickle of translucent white leaking down from his tip.

he silently curses, throwing his head back, thinking about how you let him flip up your pretty skirt before you left, letting him take a peek at your cute ass in the frilly panties he bought for you.

he reaches for his phone, fumbling to send a picture of the sight to you, adding a casual caption of something like ‘hi pretty girl’ or ‘u look so pretty today, angel’.

he pauses, realising that maybe you won’t see it for a little while. he’s imagining you so obediently listening to the artist speaker to notice the ping of his notification—he enjoys that thought too, but he can’t say why.

he’s careful not to thrust up into his fist, not wanting to make too much noise, but it’s futile—he’s too hard staring at the lewd shots of you saved in his secret hidden album—the way you act so innocently, the way you have no clue what the true extent is of what you do to him. he can’t help but let a few breathy whines slip.

he won’t let himself cum though, thinking he’s too good to be letting himself release over some scrunched up, bathroom tissue when he’s got his own pretty little girlfriend waiting for him a few halls down.

he sighs. cleaning up and tucking himself back into the band of his briefs, leaving the stall and washing his hands, walking back out like nothing happened.

#ywuji #this is so long n so rambly HAHEHW #i rlly had fun writing this tho #i wld love to write more :00 #the last part is For Sure tacked onto the end but i wanted to include it bc i talked abt it alr Lol #apologies U_U #megumi smut #megumi fushiguro smut #fushiguro smut #megumi x reader #fushiguro x reader #megumi headcanons #fushiguro headcanons #jjk smut #jjk thirsts #jjk x reader #anime smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[sweetestdesire]

A VIEW TO REMEMBER

WARNINGS: hair pulling, extreme domination, mentions of masturbation, degrading speech, etc. 18+ readers only

PAIRING(S): Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: in which Quinn Hughes accidentally walks in on Fem!Reader during a private moment.

Y/N knew love was a lot less feelings and a lot more work. She wasn’t foolish enough to think feelings were enough to make things work out, and she wasn’t naive enough to think Quinn was any different. And sure, Quinn walked around with the sun under his feet, and he smiled with stars in his eyes, and his laugh sent tidal waves to her heart, but those were all things she knew wouldn’t make him any easier to love.

She watched her parents for far too long to know love was a blanketed title people used for feelings they couldn’t voice, but how was it love if she slept in an empty bed waiting for the other to return? How was it love if dinners were quiet to avoid arguments at all costs? How was it love if touches were rigid and just for show? Y/N wasn’t a fool, and she knew that she wanted Quinn, and she knew he made the world still and the background noises quiet, but those were all feelings that she knew would never quite be enough.

Y/N didn’t know how to love, and neither did her parents, and neither did their parents, and Quinn deserved better than that. So she thought that best friend was a great title. The best, even. It was as good as it was going to get, and it was perhaps a lucky enough gift from the universe she even scored that title in the first place.

But Y/N craved something deeper, something closer, something more intimate. She wanted to feel him in ways no one has, see him in ways no one will, have him in ways only she could. She liked the idea of feeling his touch in a gentle drag across her skin, warm and sweet and trickling with honeyed words against the shell of her ear, but she knew she couldn’t exactly live it out in a reality. So she imagined it, let herself feel the ghost of Quinn’s touch, allowed herself to hear the phantom of her voice in the deepest parts of her imagination.

Like now, for example, as Y/N fell back onto the couch after Quinn had left their apartment, she let out a quiet moan as her hand rubbed over the wet spot on her yoga pants. She shuddered, feeling the heat building up between her legs as she imagined Quinn’s hand replacing hers, and she whined when she let herself tug her shirt up, playing with her own nipples and pinching them between her fingers.

Through half closed eyes, Y/N laid back on the cushion and settled both hands between her legs, lightly resting the edges of her fingers along the lips of her pussy and clit. It felt good, but it would probably feel better if Quinn was the one touching her.

“Oh, God.” Y/N breathed, sweaty hair sticking to her forehead as she dragged her fingers over her pussy, aching with the need for release. And then she had a sudden thought intruding her mind, one where Quinn might just press a delicate kiss between her thighs, and she groaned before reaching to rub her clit with her free hand. “Like that, Quinn. Don’t stop.” She pleaded, like he was there to listen.

Y/N whined, rubbing her pussy faster now, the squelching noise filling the room. Her hips bucked into her fingers to chase the friction, and she wondered if her hand would come to press down and keep her in place.

“Feels so good, baby. God, you feel so good.” She groaned, calling out Quinn’s name as she imagined it was his hand instead of hers, as she imagined it was Quinn she was speaking to and not an empty room, as she imagined it was him watching her with lust hazed eyes and want in his blood. “Gonna make me cum.” She moaned. “Gonna cum for you.”

“Y/N? Oh, my God.” Quinn said, and this time it wasn’t in her imagination.

Y/N’s eyes widen as she sat up, cursing to herself while her face turned a deep shade of crimson. And she was horrified, really, because she was sure Quinn had heard her moan his name, she was sure he saw her rub her pussy, she was sure Quinn had gathered by now that she was thinking of him in the filthiest way possible.

Her throat closed and his heart raced, and she thought there might just be a pinprick of tears in her eyes from the dread and the humiliation. "Quinn, get out. Just close your eyes and stay there. Shit, just go.” She scrambled to yank down her top and clamped her legs together, throwing the remote at him as a distraction while she sprinted from the living room.

Embarrassment swept over her again at the memory and she wondered for about the hundredth time whether she'd ever get over it. Y/N sipped from her can of Pepsi and stirred the brown rice bubbling in the pot on the stove. It was already after seven. Quinn would be home any minute now.

Her exhibitionist moment had become that elephant in the room no one dared speak about, but it was only a matter of time before he cracked and brought up the subject. Since returning from his roadie three days ago, the amused glances he kept sending her way confirmed her hunch; the only reason Quinn held back from talking about it was because it made her uncomfortable. This whole situation had become far too entertaining — for him, at least.

Y/N heard the front door open and close. Quinn usually headed down the hall to change in his bedroom before he came looking for her. She took the pot of rice over to the island bench to drain while she waited for him to appear. Moments later he entered the kitchen, sending her a grin while he strolled across the tiled floor barefoot. She knew, she just knew every time he looked at her now he pictured that scene all over again.

"Hey, Y/N/N.” Quinn said. He wore black athletic shorts and a pain t-shirt that revealed his muscled arms.

"Hi." Y/N smiled and met his eyes briefly. "Dinner's almost ready if you’d want to set the table."

When they were both sitting in the dining room beside the floor-to-ceiling window that showcased the twinkling lights of the city, Y/N speared a piece of chicken and shoved it into her mouth. She chewed and swallowed, then quickly replaced it with another to avoid having to talk to him.

She wished things could return to normal between them, that they could go back to sharing their flirty banter and having fun together. They'd clicked from the moment they met. Now it was just awkward and the fault lay entirely with her, Quinn hadn't changed a bit. Her eyes remained directed at her plate, and was only when Quinn let out a snort of amusement that she raised her head.

"It's natural, you know.” He said. His gaze roamed her face, taking everything in. "To want to do it, I mean. Everyone does it."

Y/N closed her eyes. "I don't want to talk about it, Quinn."

"I know."

She opened her eyes and forced herself to look at him. "Then why are you bringing it up?"

"We need to talk about it." Quinn balanced his fork on the edge of his plate. "This is serious. The tension around here's putting me off my food."

Although it didn't help at all, she still appreciated his attempt to bring humor into the conversation. "Can't we just pretend it never happened?" She said.

"Y/N, it did happen and it's not a big deal. You're just turning it into one."

Her eyes widened. "That's easy for you to say. How would you feel if I walked in on you... pleasuring yourself?"

"I don't know because it's never happened to me. I always go somewhere private to pleasure myself." She heard the humor in his tone. "I've never set up camp on the couch before and just gone for it."

Oh, my God. If the humiliation at hearing his words wasn't enough now she had the image of him all aroused to contend with, too. Y/N pushed her plate away and leaned her forehead against the table. "I'm just going to bang my head here until I knock myself out, okay?"

"C'mon." Quinn’s patient amusement only made the situation that much worse. Why couldn't she be the mature one here?

Chair legs scraped against tile then his hand wrapped around her upper arm. Quinn tugged her reluctantly into a standing position. Knowing he wanted to talk about it rather than eat his dinner made her realize just how determined he was to fix this problem. Y/N tilted her head to stare up at him, blown away by the jolt of awareness she experienced whenever she looked into his eyes.

"Why does it bother you so much?" Quinn asked. His eyebrows pulled together as he studied her.

"Is it really that hard to understand? You saw me with my hand in my panties, Quinn. You saw my boobs, too." She turned her head and stared out the window, wishing she could be anywhere other than here with him talking about the first place holder on her list of embarrassing moments.

"One boob.” He corrected. "A very, very nice one."

Her eyes flicked back to his to check whether he was making fun of her, but his compliment appeared to be sincere. "Thank you.” She said.

"No, thank you."

A reluctant smile appeared. Y/N should have talked about it with him when it actually happened instead of leaving it to him to address the issue. It would have been a lot simpler. "It just feels like I'm at a disadvantage. You saw me during a private moment. I can tell you still think it's funny. I don't like you having that over me."

His mouth turned up at one corner. "You want me to jerk off in front of you to make things even?"

Y/N’s stomach fluttered at the thought. She knew he was joking to lighten the mood, but when she opened her mouth to speak the word that wanted to come out was yes. "Well.” She sent him a tentative smile.

Quinn let out a laughing breath. "I can't believe it. You actually want me to jerk off in front of you."

Now that he'd brought up the idea, Y/N kept her eyes on him and her mouth shut, waiting him out. She refused to get herself in any deeper without some indication that he felt even a tiny portion of the attraction that tormented her on a daily basis. He watched her and the humor slowly slipped from his expression. The silence stretched on and the strain between them grew until it eventually became unbearable. His gaze dropped to her breasts as they lifted and fell beneath her t-shirt.

When his eyes met hers again, the intensity in them left her stunned. "If we're doing this, I'll need some inspiration."

Y/N’s breathing shallowed and her pulse raced. "Like what?" She could barely get the words out.

"Use your imagination." Quinn grabbed her wrist and led her into the living room. He took her over to the coffee table and urged her to sit on the edge. He positioned himself on the couch opposite her and relaxed against the back. When his attention returned to her, his eyebrows lifted. "When this is over, so is all the awkwardness between us. I want the old Y/N back."

Y/N swallowed. "Okay." Did he actually intend to go through with this or was he teasing her and making her wait for the moment where he burst into laughter? She went for something safe just to test him. Her fingers reached up to tug at the clip holding her hair in place. She pulled it free and her hair tumbled over her shoulders. "Does that inspire you?" She asked, already knowing the answer.

He let out an amused breath. "You're gorgeous, but I'm going to need more."

Y/N hid her pleasure at his words, at the warmth they encouraged inside her. She nibbled her lower lip, wondering how far to go next. Affection and tenderness filled his expression. Quinn looked like he wanted her to keep going. The fact that he just sat there patiently waiting, his hands resting on his knees while his gaze swept over her, helped her relax. He didn't push her or tease her so she decided to make the next step more adventurous.

Y/N held her breath and gripped the hem of her t-shirt, dragging it over her torso. The bundle dropped from her slackened fingertips and she sat before him wearing only her blue lace bra and black yoga pants. An intense longing spread through her as she watched him watching her.

"Now we're getting somewhere.” Quinn said. She heard the huskiness in his voice and shivers tickled the surface of her skin.

Before she could change her mind, Y/N stood up and made quick work of removing her pants. "I seem to be the only one who's actually doing anything." She sat back down in her white thong, gripping the edge of the table to keep her trembling fingers steady. "Don't you have a job to do?"

Quinn’s mouth quirked with the smile she knew and loved. "Why don't you just tell me you want to see my cock?"

Desire swelled inside her, crashing in the pit of her stomach, making her feel as if she'd just lost her footing. She met his eyes and in a voice that had turned surprisingly breathy she said, "I really want to see your cock."

Heat flashed in his eyes. "Keep that up and you'll be doing a lot more than looking." Quinn grabbed his top at the neckline and leaned forward, drawing it over his head to reveal his entire upper body to her for the first time. He'd never been one for strutting around the apartment half-naked and she regretted that the moment she set eyes on his bare chest.

“Amazing." Y/N felt a sudden urge to run her tongue over his abs. "You've got an incredible body, but I still don't see your cock."

Quinn chuckled then and it thrilled her that they could find time to laugh despite the sensual nature of the moment. "You're a little eager, aren't you? Been a while?"

"Ages." Y/N reached behind her to the clasp on her bra.

Y/N flicked it open and drew the straps down her arms until they settled at her bent elbows. She kept the cups in place with her hands and sent him an expectant look. The idea of baring herself to him in this way made her heart race. He'd already told her he liked what he saw when he caught her here on the couch. That wasn't the problem. It was being almost naked and sitting just across from him while he… she had to drag in a steadying breath.

Quinn grinned and lifted his hips, shoving at the waistbands of both his shorts and underwear. He lowered them at the same time, stopping just before he got to the good stuff. "You sure you can handle this?"

She watched the ridges in his stomach contract and her mouth went dry. She really wasn't sure of anything right now. "I won't be the one handling it, but I'm sure I'll enjoy watching."

His huffed out a laugh and his thumbs stayed tucked in the top of his shorts, teasing her with the skin he had on display and the mystery of what remained hidden. "There's only one problem.” He said.

She clutched her loosened bra to her breasts. "What's that?"

He met her eyes. "I didn't get to see you cum."

Her cheeks flushed and a quick thrill ran through her. Y/N knew exactly what he was getting at; she'd have to be content with an unfinished show from him or join in so they could reach that peak together. The thought of him in that moment, watching that look come over his face, she didn't want to miss out on seeing it for real. "You want to watch me?"

Quinn gave her a half-smile. "I'd rather make you cum than sit back and watch, but I'll take what I can get.”

Her heart slowed to a heavy thud. "What?"

Quinn shook his head and laughed. "So pretty, yet so dense.” He teased. "What do you think all the flirting's been about?"

"I just thought you flirted with all women like that." Knowing she'd jumped to the wrong conclusion made her happier than she'd thought possible. "You want to have sex with me?" Y/N narrowed her eyes, staring at him. He'd better not be joking.

"No." His gaze traveled over her, pausing at her mouth before moving slowly down her body. He finally looked her in the eyes. "Having sex sounds so clinical. I want to fuck you."

Oh, my God. She let out the breath she'd been holding. A surge of something completely and utterly carnal took hold of her. "I didn't know.” Y/N said breathlessly. "I mean, look at you, and then look at me."

Quinn frowned, appearing annoyed by that, as if he couldn't understand why she felt so out of her depth when it came to his physical appeal. "If you don't shut up and come over here, I'm going to start wondering why I'm so hopelessly attracted to you."

Y/N couldn't catch her breath. Her fingers tightened around the delicate material of her bra as she took it from her breasts and let it fall to the floor. She shook her head slowly. "I still want to watch you.” She heard herself saying.

His gaze dropped to her bared breasts and his jaw clenched. "Better lose the panties, then."

The expression on his face made her want to kiss him. A rush of need swept through her. Her nipples tightened into sensitive buds. Y/N pushed herself off the coffee table and slipped her fingers into the waistband of her thong. Quinn’s eyes followed her every movement and as she lowered her panties he pushed his shorts and boxers down his thighs.

Y/N stepped from her underwear just as he revealed his cock, inch by delectable inch. Her pulse raced. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the sight. It was already hard and now she'd just found somewhere else on his body that she wanted to lick. Quinn kicked his shorts free as she sat back down on the table. She perched on the edge, torn between the need to climb over him and straddle his lap or keep her distance for a better view.

"Ladies first.” Quinn said. A muscle twitched in his jaw. His eyes burned with need. She'd never seen this side of him before.

She lifted her feet, resting them on tiptoes while she slowly, slowly parted her knees. One hand reached behind her, her palm flattening against the table top for support. The other dipped between her thighs to tease her damp folds. Moisture coated her fingertips, and she sighed, wanting to tip her head back but unwilling to lose sight of him for a second.

Quinn groaned and grabbed hold of his cock, stroking the thick, hard length as he watched her. His eyes slid over every part of her, from her face to her breasts, dropping between her legs like a physical caress. The veins in the back of his hand stood out. The way his fingers gripped his erection made her own move faster over her slick pussy. She wanted his hands on her, all over her. She wanted to feel the damp heat of his mouth as it travelled across her skin, the rigid length of him as it sank inside her.

"I was thinking about you.” Y/N said, struggling to put the words together. "When you walked in on me, I mean." Her fingers slid over her clit, massaging the swollen bud while her gaze meshed with his. She hit a sensitive spot and closed her eyes briefly, swallowing a moan. "I'm always thinking about you."

"Y/N." She opened her eyes at the sound of her name. Quinn let out a heavy breath that bordered on a groan, working his cock with increasing speed. She imagined lapping at it with the tip of her tongue. "C'mere, I want you."

His words gave her a head rush. Y/N drew her legs together and warmth pulsed between her thighs as she rose from her position on the table. She took the two steps that lay between them, leaning over him to bring her mouth into close contact with his. He reached up with one hand and filled his palm with her flesh, massaging her breast, teasing her nipple while his lips brushed hers.

Y/N sighed and climbed over him, hovering with her legs spread either side of his thighs. She clasped her hand around his, encouraging him to keep stroking his cock. Quinn groaned and pressed his mouth to hers, taking control, guiding the kiss. He took it deeper, drawing it out with slow sweeps of his tongue, soft nibbles of his lips.

Quinn thumbed her nipple. A whimper sounded in her throat and her hand skated over her stomach to delve back between her thighs. Y/N found her wetness, teasing her hidden nub. She moaned and rocked her hips to meet the firm glide of her fingertips. The slick head of his cock bumped against her knuckles as they both pleasured themselves. Her control faltered and she kissed him harder, thrusting her tongue against his as her desire grew. Her hips jerked.

Y/N broke the kiss, her breaths coming heavily as she whispered, "I wanna ride you, Quinny."

Quinn growled and tugged harder at his thick length, using his free hand to grab a fistful of her hair at the back of her head. "Cum for me first.” He said. “Then it's all yours." He used his grip on her hair to hold her right there and crushed his lips to hers.

His tongue plunged into her mouth. A husky moan tore from her and she rubbed her clit, massaging, teasing, all pushing herself closer to the edge. Her eyes closed tightly, her only focus to come. She needed him inside her. His hard, wet cock kept sliding against the back of her hand, taunting her and urging her on.

Quinn seemed to sense her impending release. Either that or he was close himself. His mouth grew more demanding, his groans more frequent. Her fingertips increased pressure on her clit, slipping back and forth. Her other hand cupped the back of his neck, holding on. Her stomach tensed and her hips thrust. His mouth roamed over hers, his tongue caressed. It only increased her desire, her need for him. His hand in her hair, his body beneath her, she wanted him so much.

Y/N pulled her mouth free to drag in a shaky breath. Her forehead rested against his. She cried out, shuddering. It flowed through her in a surge of complete bliss. Her moan, when it came, was throaty and full of pleasure. Her fingers kept rubbing, her hips jerking. While the final tremors still shook her body, Quinn released her hair and clasped her hips. He shoved his cock inside her, pulling her down to deepen the connection. Her back bowed and she let out a garbled sound. He filled her, harsh, fast. Her wet fingers dug into his shoulder, her other hand clutched his hair.

His deep groan against her throat made her shiver. Quinn wrapped his arms tightly around her and fucked her hard. Y/N held on, turning her head to press her lips to his temple. Her breasts jolted against his chest. Her stomach quivered as the need built inside her all over again.

His arm tightened around her and he lifted her, still connected with him, lowering her onto her back on the couch. Quinn rested on one elbow, using his other hand to grasp her ass as he took her even harder. His cock plunged inside her, his hips smacking hers. Sweat-slicked skin met sweat-slicked skin. His chest brushed against her taut nipples.

Quinn looked into her eyes, a glint of something wild in his gaze. His mouth lifted in a half-smile. "You're so fucking hot.” He said.

Y/N clenched her thighs around him, linking her ankles at the base of his spine. "Shut up and make me cum."

Quinn nuzzled her throat and chuckled, damned if the sound didn't make a shiver pass right through her. His pace increased, growing in intensity until she found herself having a brand new appreciation for athletic men. She met his thrusts with her bucking hips, tipping her head back and biting her lip.

Y/N felt it coming, the throb beginning between her thighs. Quinn’s teeth grazed her throat and it was all she needed to give her that final push. She gripped his shoulders and let out a hoarse moan, writhing beneath him. She was still so sensitive from the last effort that she wanted to pull away from him and get closer all at the same time. Her release only spurred him on.

Quinn’s fingers dug into the flesh of her ass, pulling her toward his thrusts. His mouth traveled across her collarbone, moving up to her jaw. He rested his lips there, his warm breaths whispering over her as he reached his peak. Y/N held on, bracing herself as he gave a couple of final, forceful thrusts, letting out a low groan as he came inside her. She hugged him, her arms and thighs wrapping around him to keep him close. He relaxed against her, his heart thudding hard, his breaths wrenching from him.

Y/N’s eyes drifted closed and a smile claimed her features. She relished in the weight of him pressing against her. She couldn't believe how much had changed between them in such a short space of time. From the awkwardness this morning to this, she let out a trembling breath and pressed her cheek to his, closing her eyes to take it all in.

A short while later, Quinn stirred against her and lifted his head. "Hi." He smiled, his eyes heavy-lidded as he lowered his mouth to give her a long, lazy kiss. She lifted her arms above her head, stretching leisurely beneath him and sighing as his lips moved over hers. He gave her one final soft kiss and pulled back to look her over. "We're going to have to come up with some arrangement here. Best friends with benefits or something because I need to do this again."

Y/N lowered her arms, hugging his neck as she squeezed her thighs around him. He was still inside her and judging by that look on his face he'd be hard again in no time. "Really? You want to do it again, huh?" She could barely keep the pleasure from her voice.

"Yeah." Quinn slipped his hand over her breast, massaging her flesh. "We were in such a hurry, I neglected these. I want to make up for that oversight." Her breath caught and her hips lifted beneath him, and he smiled. "You okay with that?" He dipped his head to draw her nipple into his mouth.

Y/N let out a sound that couldn't decide if it wanted to be a laugh or a moan. "Yeah, I think I can handle that."

#quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes one shot #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x female reader #quinn hughes oneshot #quinn hughes x fem!reader #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #qh43 #vancouver canucks #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes drabble #quinn hughes thoughts

[slxshrfvcker]

~𓆦Caught Like A Fly𓆦~

Request by @ashllleyyy !

~ “I had an idea for Billy and Stu x fem reader. Billy and Stu got away with their plan, and now they have daughters who are friends with the reader. Reader is in her 20s and dads are in their 40s. Billy and Stu live together but there is nothing romantic between the boys. One day reader came for a sleepover at her friends house (aka Billy and Stu's house), and Billy and Stu’s daughters went to supermarket to buy something and reader was alone with the dads there. So she was snooping around and heard Billy and Stu talking about there next victim and they caught her snooping. There would be also smut part where they found her and can you add aftercare at the end??” ~

I love this idea sm, I really hope this is what you are hoping for!!! 🫶🏽🫶🏽

Content Warnings: Age Gaps, Fem!Reader, AU!Scream, toxic friendships implied, Scream’s usual themes w/murder and violence, SMUT //oral fem & male receiving, teasing, sub/dom dynamics, f/m/m pairing, sir & daddy kink, light choking, clothed sexual activity (dry humping & clothed orgasms), p in v sex, aftercare// lmk if there’s more!

Listen to: Caught Like A Fly by Falling In Reverse!

NSFW // 18+ CONTENT UNDER THE CUT

24 years ago, Billy and Stu would have no clue they’d make it this far in their lives. Here in this town still even after all they’ve accomplished in their still short lives.

Billy moved out of his dad’s house after graduation and spent his college savings on his very own house, a little bit smaller than what he was originally living in with his dad, but it was still his home nonetheless. He had gotten a stable enough job to keep him upright, and went on by his day-to-day life, seeing Stu often too was another thing he enjoyed about his life situation. And then Stu’s parents kicked him out after his 18th, leaving Billy’s best friend on the streets with nowhere to live; until Billy offered for him to move in with him too. Billy and Stu were happily sharing the house together now, having their movie nights almost every night and having the most fun they’ve ever had.

Eventually the news that Billy was a father came back to him. At first it was a shock, confusion and doubt about it was all he could think about. But when that little girl was left on his doorstep, a note addressed to him and the mother nowhere to be seen every again, Billy vowed to his young, naive 19 year old self and his daughter that he would never leave her and do the best he could for her, promising he would be a better father to her than his own dad ever could be to him.

Stu, seeing how well Billy was as a father so far and the interactions between the two caused him to have the worst baby fever in existence, risking everything by running around and sleeping with multiple women in hopes of ‘accidentally’ knocking one up so he too could have this experience of fatherhood. And he got just what he so desperately craved, but double the trouble. Stu was blessed with twin girls, and he couldn’t have been more elated to take them under his wing and raise them himself (though Billy helped out a lot too, since his daughter Sam was already two years old at this point in time).

For about 22 years, Billy and Stu (who are now both 45 and 46 years of age) raised their girls, protecting them from the world of harm and their past (best they could), the girls still lived with their dads (via guilt-tripping or the sorts from Billy and Stu telling them ‘your dear old dads would be so lonely without you, are you sure you want to leave us??’ And the likes) and were currently enrolled in a local college where they met Y/N.

Y/N was young and naive, yet shy around everyone else besides the three daughters of Billy and Stu. She often went over to the girls’ house for movie nights, sleepovers and just whatever they wanted to do. She grew accustomed to the two dads always hanging about suspiciously, eyeing her in a stalker-ish way before the two went to talk in the office about ‘work’.

And tonight was no different. Y/N could feel their burning gaze on her as she hung out with the three girls, laughing away at the dumbest of things before the twins stood up and went to go get something from the kitchen. The older twin sister groaning loudly and leaving her sister in the kitchen as she looked at Sam with a cross of her arms. “We’re out of popcorn and soda.” She said. “Me and Jessie are going to go get some more if you wanna come Sam? Y/N, can you stay here in case our dads need something or we need to text you for something?” The twin asked.

Sam nodded and stood up as the other girl came out of the kitchen with her keys and bag. “Yeah yeah, let’s go. Y/N we’ll be back asap!” She said as she and the twins waved goodbye before they walked out of the front door and to their car, soon they were gone. Y/N sighed and looked around the place before standing up and walking about the house for a few minutes, glancing around and grazing her fingers along some photos and random things.

She was walking past the office when she heard some faint talking from behind the door, curious she leaned her head against the door and listened in on the dads’ conversation. She only caught a few things through the muffle of the door, ‘victim’ ‘murder’ and ‘plan’ being some of the few words she could process. Her eyes fluttered wider as soon as it stopped and she heard footsteps get closer to the door, she pulled her head back as quick as she could before the door swung open, and Billy stood there with a questioning gaze on his face.

“Were you listening in on us?” Billy asked, eyeing her suspiciously as she looked up at him like a deer caught in headlights. “I… I uh, no I just,” she couldn’t get her words out and she mentally smacked herself for it. “Mhm, sure… how much of it did you hear?” He questioned as he moved closer to her, enough to get her to back up against the wall in a bit of fear. “N-not much,” she squeaked out, gazing up at the tall man with widened eyes. Stu made his way over as well, standing beside Billy, but not as close to her.

“You know we don’t really like when people snoop around our house, especially someone we trust so much.” Billy pointed out, gazing down at her with his piercing brown eyes. “So that means we have to punish you for this,” he added, leaning closer to her, close enough where his chest was pressing against hers, lips close to her ear. “And I have a feeling you won’t like how,” he whispered huskily in her ear, causing her to swallow and press her thighs together. “‘M sorry, Sir… I didn’t mean to upset you two…” she whimpered out in fear.

The fear in her whimpers only heightened the feeling of blood rushing to Billy’s cock, he let out a breathy chuckle as he pulled back enough to note the fear in her eyes, smirking and biting his lower lip. “Jesus,” he rasped, looking at Stu for a second as if to gauge his reaction to Y/N as well. “You hear her? She sounds like a fuckin’ mess,” Billy said, his hands moving and finding their way to her arms. “Cmere baby girl, let us show you what happens to those who snoop around our shit,” Billy grinned as he pulled her into the office with Stu following behind.

Stu closed and locked the door behind him, standing by it as Billy pushed the young girl to sit down on the desk, his body closing in on hers as he gazed down at her in such a sultry way. His hands closed around her thighs and he yanked them open while dragging her closer to him, his groin pressing against hers, bulge prominently pressing to her clothed heat. She let out a soft gasp in surprise at the feeling of his hard-on, looking up at him with widened eyes. “Mr. Loomis… w-what…” she was cut off by Billy tutting at her. “Ah ah ah, it’s Sir from here on out, got it, princess?”

She nodded as she shyly looked away, which only caused her to get her head turned to look at him again. Billy gazed down at her, eyes flicking to her lips before he leaned down and pressed his own lips to them, enjoying the feeling of her soft warm lips against his. His hands grasped her hips, pulling them closer as his own grinned against hers, pulling a small pathetic whimper to leave her. Billy pulled back, a cocky smirk on his lips as he pressed his lips to her pulse point, biting down harshly and marking her before soothing the bite with his tongue. She was a whimpering mess at this point, gazing over at Stu while Billy’s face was pressed into her neck, his hips grinding slowly against hers.

Stu was smirking, his hand palming himself through his trousers as he watched Billy have his way with her. Billy pulled his head back and smirked at her again, sitting down in a chair while dragging her with him, settling her down onto his thigh. Billy started guiding her hips along his thigh, forcing her to grind herself down on him. She let out soft mewls and moans as she worked herself on the older man’s thigh. “Mmm!” She whined out as he bit down onto her throat again, marking her some more before he pulled away and brought his veiny hand up to her throat, pressing his index and thumb to her pulse points to restrict a little blood flow to her thrumming head.

Her hands went up and grasped his arm, moaning and gasping for air as she worked her hips faster, clit brushing her own jeans that shifted with each roll of her hips against his own jeans. She was losing her vision until Billy took notice and let go, she moaned as he let his grip up, feeling her body crash with the feeling of euphoria as her orgasm flooded into her, she squeaked out, eyes rolling back as she fell forwards onto Billy’s chest as her pussy fluttered around nothing. She whimpered weakly and moaned, rolling her hips slowly a few more times as her thighs trembled and closed around his own.

Billy shh’d her, his hands rubbing the globes of her as as he praised her quietly for the orgasm she brought herself to. “Good girl, you’re doing so fuckin’ good for daddies.” He praised, his hands caressing her sides now as he gently lifted her up off his thigh and back onto the desk. She whined out, wanting to go back to him but he simply shushed her again and lifted her shirt from her form, tossing it to the side. He licked his lips as his eyes raked over her naked top half, eyes focusing on her bust. He reached behind her and unhooked her bra, sliding it off her and putting it to the side with her shirt.

Stu watched this while still palming himself, slowly approaching them as he did so. “My turn.” Stu grinned, as he replaced Billy’s body with his in between her parted thighs. Stu pressed his lips to Y/N’s spit slicked ones, delving his tongue into her mouth as he licked around her teeth and tongue, battling with her for dominance. His hands grasped the buttoning of her jeans, undoing them swiftly and dragging the zipper down. He pulled her jeans off, and pushed them to the floor, before pushing her panties to the side. Stu ran his finger through her folds, groaning as he felt how absolutely soaked she was from her past orgasm and arousal. “Fuck, Billy she’s god damn soaked.” Stu pointed out as he dipped his middle finger into her heat, listening to the way her breathing picked up.

Billy watched as he undid his own jeans, pulling them off of himself and putting them to the side, sitting down in his chair and lazily stroking his length. “Fuckin’ hell Stu, she’s so fuckin’ hot, huh?” He gritted out, hand working himself a bit faster. Stu grinned and nodded as he added a second finger into her tight cunt, curling them in search for her g-spot. The way her breath hitched and she clenched on his digits signaled to him he found it. He chuckled as he started abusing the spot while the heel of his hand brushed her clit, working her up to her second orgasm of the night.

Stu continued his assault on her pussy as Billy watched, hand jerking faster as he watched it go down. “F…fuck, Stu you better hurry the fuck up and make her cum already so I can fuck her tight little cunt and fill her up myself.” Billy rasped out, as Stu cackled a bit and finger fucked her faster. She was trembling and whining before the orgasm hit her harder than the first, she cried out Stu’s name and slouched against him, her hands clasping onto his arms. “Mmmm, s…stop, s’too much,” she slurred, before feeling Stu pull his fingers out. “Good girl,” Stu purred, leaning back from her as he brought his hand up to his lips and cleaned them off with his tongue. He groaned out at the taste, “fucking hell, tastes as good as I thought she would.” Stu said as he stepped back a bit to let Billy step in now too.

Stu was quickly discarding his clothing now too, as he watched Billy slowly jerk himself right in front of her. “Lay down baby girl,” Billy commanded, brushing things off his desk to the floor, not caring what broke and what didn’t. He made her lay on her back as he grasped her thighs and parted them for her as much as she could, spitting in one of his hands and bringing it down to take a hold of his cock, lathering the spit all over his thick length before he grasped the base and brushed it through her folds and against her clit. He pulled back to fully remove her panties before he quickly started pushing himself into her, the tip of his cock breaching her entrance and eliciting a moan from her.

Billy groaned out, his hips continually moving forward until he was fully sheathed into her dripping, tight fluttering cunt. His breathing picked up as he pulled out a bit and slammed brutally back into her, and doing it all over again. Stu watched Billy fuck her in a slow yet hard rhythm, his hand going to his own dick as he jerked himself off slowly in time with Billy’s thrusts. Billy started to pick up the pace eventually, her whines spurring him on as he thrust into her at a bruising speed and hardness. He grinned as he felt her little hands wrap around his wrist and bring his hand up to her throat, her silently begging him to wrap it around her delicate flesh. “Fu…fuck,” Billy managed as he put pressure on her pulse points with his fingers, his hips snapping against hers harshly. Stu let out soft noises as he fucked his own hand, watching them. “Fuck, Billy when can I…?” Stu rasped out, aching to feel her cunt around him too.

Billy grunted, ignoring Stu as his free hand went from her hip to her clit, pinching it before flicking at it, then his thumb started brushing it in tight fast circles in time with his hips movements. “She’s fuckin’ squeezing me like a god damned vice,” Billy croaked out, listening to her breaths get more labored and squeaky. He let his grip on her throat up and replaced it with his lips, the hand that was once on her throat tweaking and twisting her nipples. “Cum for me princess, I know you’re almost there,” Billy coaxed, his fingers going back to their pinching and flicking movements before the rubbing again.

Y/N let out the most pornographic moan she could ever believe herself to manage, pussy contracting and squeezing Billy’s cock, causing him to tumble over the edge into pure bliss as well and milking him of all he had. She arched up against him and whined as she felt his hot ropes of cum shoot past her cervix and into her womb, filling her up with his seed as his hips slowly started to stop their rhythm, stilling deep inside her as his breathing was heavy and quick against her shoulder. “F..fuck,” was all Billy could manage, slowly slipping his softening cock out of her. The two failed to notice Stu making his way closer, until Billy felt Stu’s hands grasp onto him and push him out of the way for his turn to fuck his cum into her. Billy licked his lips and stepped back for Stu, watching them from the chair again.

Stu was quick to push his dick into her; though a bit smaller than Billy’s it still felt wonderful. She moaned out pathetically, her hands grasping onto Stu’s shoulders as he started to fuck into her at a harsh and fast pace from the get-go. She was reduced to a drooling and whimpering mess as Stu fucked into her at fervent speed, chasing his own high now. His hands were resting on her hips moved to her clit and roughly rubbed against it, causing her to immediately fall into another orgasm. She basically screamed out, pussy fluttering more now as she felt an odd feeling fill her veins. “Ah! S…stop! Something’s w…wrong I feel like I’m gonna…!” She couldn’t do anything about it but let go, an extra wet feeling flooding from her pussy and coating her ass and thighs, as well as Stu’s thighs and hips. Her face burned red as she thought she pissed herself, but when Stu let out a choked groan and came deep in her as well, he pointing something out. “Fuck! She just fucking squirted, Billy!” Stu said as he pulled his length from her, watching as all three of their arousals and juices flowed from her still-contracting cunt.

Billy grinned widely as he stood up and made his way over to both of them after he had dressed himself, moving to kiss Y/N deeply. “Jesus, if I knew you were a squirter then I would’ve fucked you sooner,” Billy said with a cocky grin on his lips. He looked at Stu and nodded at him as soon as he noticed how sleepy Y/N was getting. “Oh, princess…” Billy cooed, pulling her into his arms. He carried her to the bathroom across the hall as Stu got dressed again and went to go get some water and crackers for her to hydrate herself and eat a snack for energy. Billy set her down on the toilet, silently asking her to use it as he got the bath started. Billy made sure the water wasn’t too hot and poured some bubbles in for her, before picking her up once she was done and gently put her into the water. Stu made his way to the bathroom and smiled softly at them, kneeling next to Billy and giving her the glass of water and a couple crackers.

They made sure she ate and drank enough water before they helped her wash her body and hair, helping her out and drying her off. Billy carried her to his bedroom and laid her down on his bed, pulling the blankets over her. “I’ll get you a change of clothes for when you wake up,” Billy said as he moved to press a soft comforting kiss to the top of her head. Stu smiled softly and went to leave with Billy but they both stopped when she whined out. “Don’t go…” Y/N whined softly. Billy and Stu exchanged glances before they turned back around and got in beside her. Billy wrapped his arms around her and pressed another kiss to her head, rubbing comforting circles on her bare back. “You did so well baby,” Billy praised, and Stu smiled, humming in agreement as Stu’s hand gently rested on her hip. “We’re here now so you can sleep, okay princess?” Stu mumbled lovingly, exchanging another look with Billy as she fell asleep in their arms.

~

It wasn’t long after before the twins and Sam got back, calling out for Y/N and their dads as they set the snacks and groceries on the kitchen counter, going around and looking for them. Sam gasped as she opened her dad’s door to see her dad, Stu and Y/N all cuddled up and asleep together in the bed. “Oh my god,” she whispered in shock before closing the door and spinning around to go back downstairs and tell the twins what she had just saw, they were so going to confront the three of them later on…

♡︎likes are appreciated, comments are wonderful, reblogs are gold and follows are greatly welcomed!♡︎

♡︎Ilysm, take care of yourself and have a safe and great day/night!♡︎

#billy loomis smut #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis #stu macher smut #stu macher x reader #stu macher #stu macher x reader x billy loomis #scream movie #scream 1 #scream 1996 #scream #scream au #scream x reader #scream smut #slashers #slasher imagine #slasher smut #what’s your favorite scary movie #skeet ulrich #matthew lillard #smut #smut fic #request #<333 #i like older men #i just think they're neat #ilysm mwah

[yumeka-sxf]

I've been waiting to see Yor's epiphany chapter in the anime and it did not disappoint! I felt like analyzing more than usual because I loved this episode so much~ 💖

I hope that any anime-only viewers who at this point still had the opinion that Yor's just ditzy/submissive, one-dimensional, or whatever negative traits associated with her, have changed their minds. Throughout the cruise arc we've seen so many sides of her character: how she's struggling to understand the exact reason why she's taking on these dangerous assignments when her original reason for doing it (supporting Yuri) no longer exists, how her internal desire to seek her own happiness - live a peaceful life like Olka - is at constant war with her diligence to complete her mission, her yearning to be with Loid and Anya and how sad she looks when she has to tell herself that they're just a cover-up family and she'll have to leave them without a word if anything drastic happens, and how much more confident she is when doing something she excels at - assassinating - yet still retaining her kind and polite demeanor (Unlike Twilight, who dons the mask of Loid Forger, Yor Forger is not a mask for Thorn Princess, at least not in terms of personality. So everything she says as Thorn Princess can be interpreted as her true feelings, including the now two times she's hesitated during fights because of the thought of having to leave the Forgers).

And, in the moment where she's facing death right in the eye, all the doubts she's had since getting this assignment culminate, not only causing the samurai assassin to get the upper hand, but causing her to take a deep, introspective look into her reason for fighting...if it's not for the same reason as the other assassins, what is it?

What's even more amazing is that these things about her character did not come out of nowhere just for the sake of a flashy climax. We saw in previous episodes that not only does she understands that being in the Forger family makes her happy, but most importantly, how she's lived her life only thinking of the happiness of others above her own. And what's most tragic is that, upon finally realizing that her original reason for being an assassin is gone (since Yuri no longer needs support) she's ready to die then and there...until she remembers Olka's words about wanting to live a peaceful life, which in turn makes her remember her core reason for becoming an assassin was to not only support Yuri, but to make the world he lives in all the more peaceful by eliminating the villains in it.

Despite how naive Yor is about many things (due to her upbringing), she's certainly not ignorant about the needless tragedies that exist in the world. And here is where she makes her decision to keep doing her assassinating, not because she enjoys killing people, but because the result of it will make the world a better place...because now, she has even more people whose happiness she desires to protect.

Even if she sacrifice her own happiness by leaving the Forgers, that's not as important to her as preventing tragedy from befalling her loved ones, or the world in general. And these thoughts are so similar to Twilight's reasons for becoming a spy! Coincidently, as Yor has these thoughts, she thinks of how Loid complimented this aspect of her personality way back when they first met...and the thought that the man who she trusts and respects so much would approve of her decision, gives her the final push to keep on going (I love that they reanimated this scene too and didn't just use the exact frames from episode 2).

So yeah, if anyone who wasn't sure of how much depth Yor's character has, I hope this episode shed a lot of light! This is the right way to make a character both cute/sweet but also a total badass who's strong on the outside as well as the inside.

(I will probably reword a lot of this for my upcoming Twiyor analysis posts but I couldn't wait until then, lol).

#spy family #spy x family #sxf #spyxfamily #yor forger #twiyor #sxf anime

[neet-elite]

hi, could you write something about sam and sebastian hanging out with a shy naive reader who casually mentions that she's never even kissed anyone, let alone have sex before and they offer to help her out but instead take advantage of her until she's a crying, overstimulated mess? -🌸 (if this emoji is claimed i can change it)

Dummy — (SDV) Sam + Sebastian

Pairing: Sebastian / F!Reader / Sam Genre: Smut 18+ WC: 12,688 Warnings: virgin reader, threesome, dubcon, victim blaming, manipulation, lots of kissing, saliva, fingering, cunnilingus, nipple play/sucking, praise, overstimulation, creampie, just the tip, tongue sucking, cervix fucking Synopsis: Him, a threat? No, never, you sweet thing… He’s about to reassure you of just how docile he really is with sugary lies and faux platitudes. But your meek tone effectively shuts him up, and he’d be a fool not to watch you dig your hole even deeper.

“It’s— Um, it’s not like it’s a big deal or anything… Right?”

A/N: I took way too long to complete this I'm so sorry... I hope it was worth the wait :D ! ty for the good idea <3

“What do you mean you’ve…”

“Never…  Kissed  anyone before?”

Doubt drips their words, emphasis pushed onto the offending action of  kissing —  you’re lying, aren’t you?  Because to Sebastian, one of your  dearest and closest friends , he can’t imagine a pretty girl like you still yet keeping her  kissing virginity  for God sake, let alone any kind of virginity! He’s always imagined you must have sneaked off with Alex one late saloon night, and he’s hypothesised with Sam before that maybe you had fooled around with Abigail during a sleepover, or— well,  something … Anyone, really. And yet here you were, anxious fingers twiddling tight into sheets while you try to avoid their scepticism laced gaze. A staring contest ensues. Not one formally introduced, but one borne out of disbelief, and in your case: embarrassment. Where Sam begins the questioning, it’s only natural for Sebastian to follow; seeing as how in tune they are with each other. Two twisted peas in a pod, you really shouldn’t have told them that.

Which is why the moment their eyes meet they instinctively understand what must follow your little revelation. Your best kept secret, surely held close to your shy little bunny heart out of fear of judgement, or worse,  prey . It’s only natural for them to be curious, right? It’s a big scary world out there, you should be thankful that you only have to face two of them tonight, little prey.

Because that’s what you are at the end of the day, or at least it is when you’re snuggled up securely under Sebastian’s bed sheets. Tugging on the fabric as if doing so would somehow hide your bashful expression from your best friends watchful eyes, but they know you better than that. Just like how they knew what actions you’d take before you took em during the long forgotten about Solarian Chronicles game earlier that night. Whether or not you choose to display your cute rosy cheeks to them was irrelevant; because they knew.  They knew  you’d regretted the decision to play a friendly round of truth or dare the minute you agreed, and they knew this was too good an opportunity to pass up on tonight. With both his parents out for the evening, and Maru attending an extended trip with the doc out of town… It was a no brainer for Sebastian to have his two best friends stay over for a few nights.

Which is to say… Sam was in on it the whole time, you know? Trapping you in the metaphorical dungeon that is Sebastian’s basement room, cornering you under the guise of some friendly   games late at night—which you should know by now is a bad idea, but when he thinks about it, Sebastian decides your naivety is but one of your many charms—however, neither one of them could have ever imagined you’d offer yourself up to them like this on a silver platter. He can tell Sam is just as surprised and eager about your spilled secret as he is given the soft glint in his friends eye, the way Sam’s gaze matches his own half lidded nature as you bury deeper under the sheets in a pitiful attempt to escape some unforeseen instinctual threat.

Him, a threat?  No, never , you sweet thing… He’s about to reassure you of just how docile he really is with sugary lies and faux platitudes. But your meek tone effectively shuts him up, and he’d be a fool not to watch you dig your hole even deeper.

“It’s— Um, it’s not like it’s a big deal or anything… Right?”

Oh, on the contrary, sweet girl. Unbeknownst to you, both Sam and Sebastian are intricately connected, thinking the exact same disgusting thought the moment you spilled your prized secret. If you haven’t kissed anyone, then…  You must be a virgin too, right ? Like,  with sex . Cause, despite their previous late night discussions surrounding you, there’s  no way  you’d have fucked by now given how bashful you are at admitting your untouched lips, and when Sebastian takes a quick glance Sam’s way he recognised the awful smirk his friend is now wearing.

He unknowingly adopts it too.

Because in the midst of your sweet little sniffs and reddened cheeks, they’ve already came to an agreement. An unspoken one, communicated through flickers of vision and a previous shared longing to have you where you sit right now. You’ve got no idea just how long they’ve wanted you like this, scared and alone, easy to dominate in the dark of the basement. It sounds bad when he puts it like that, but really what he means is: unable to refuse. To confuse and mislead you right into their arms, if that’s what it takes. Which is what it’s come to, seeing as after all this time you’re still a silly little virgin.  Poor girl , they’ll fix you tonight.

It’s Sebastian who speaks up first, knowing better than anyone that Sam has a far too easily excitable attitude to approach the tense situation with any tact. Which is what you need before the main event, surely. See, he’s not  evil , just a little selfish. He’ll provide you with the comfort you’re obviously seeking, if it means he can get in your pants later tonight.

“No, no,” He coos, standing from his computer chair to stalk over to his bed, gently dropping his weight on the edge of it to sit beside you, remaining cautious not to scare you off with anything other than absolute acceptance. Because deep down he’s  thankful , and he’d like to show you just how much. “It’s not a big deal,  promise .” A smile follows, meaning well to ease your apparent apprehensions, but he’s not so sure he can hide his deplorable excitement from you well enough, an ache in his cheeks present when he thinks about how hard this must be for you to admit. Which is silly, really, but he can understand why you must be so ashamed when in his company; even if only because he knows himself too well. To combat his worries, he places a friendly open palm where he thinks your hidden thigh must be, and he’s happy to have found it when you lower the bed sheets  just a little , enough to give both men purchase into you. His eyes flit to Sam once more, a small narrow to them as a warning.  Patience .  Do not frighten the poor bunny, okay?

A few rubs up and down and you’re already opening up to them, so easy are you in your innocence. He continues the conversation when it naturally lulls, noticing that you’re clearly shivering with anxiety in the face of their acceptance, and he’s eager to keep whittling down your fight or flight response until you feel safe again; that’s when they can pounce. And really, it’s your own fucking fault for getting yourself into this position, yeah? What girl in their right mind would think anything other than  indulgence  when her two best friends— who just so happen to be horny men —invite her to a private sleepover?  Dummy , you must be wanting this, right? You’re just playing coy, aren’t you? “If anything, it’s kinda cute,” he squeezes at your thigh to reassure, inwardly laughing to himself when you continue to clam up, pretending to be shy when he’s got you all figured out.

Or, the alternative is fine with him too. Maybe you really  aren’t  aware of your position tonight, left completely blind to the obvious trap orchestrated by himself and Sam. If that were true, then you deserve a sickening reality check anyway. See, either way he holds no guilt. Either you wanted this, or you deserve this. Which makes things easier for him, convincing himself that there’s no harm in pushing if the result is the same.

“Ain’t that right, Sam?”

“Sure is.” Sam grins back at him, wide and unassuming, a friendly face to coax you out of your self imposed shell. It’s Sam’s biggest strength, Sebastian thinks. His childhood friend has  always  resembled the sun in that way, all smiles and platitudes; exactly what you need tonight. “Been savin’ yourself, or…?”

Fuck , good question. Too wrapped up in his own selfish desires, it hadn’t even occurred to Sebastian that you might be doing just that, awaiting some sort of faux  right time  before giving yourself away to someone special; but aren’t they special enough for you? Both him and Sam, your bestest of friends, crowding around you so ardently in the relatively open basement room as Sam joins you on the bed, opposite Sebastian, aren’t  they  your special friends? It couldn’t hurt too much to give them just a taste, right? Just a little, it’s what they’re owed for protecting you for so long. If not them, then who? A bubble of jealousy prompting him into squeezing your thigh once more, the possessiveness in it easily misconstrued as guarding. Would that he could remain in his indulgent dream of corrupting his sweet and innocent little friend, you snap him out of his dirty mind with a docile little head shake, the squeak of your voice drawing him back to reality as you deny them the right of depravity for now.

“N-No, no… Nothing like that… It’s just— Uh, I guess it just never happened? I uh… I dunno why…”

God, the shake in your voice goes right down to Sebastian’s cock, and he has to fight the urge to pet at it right in front of you like this. How downright  pitiful  you sound when elaborating, unsure and cautious, fearful of their judgement even if they’d do no such thing— No, because you’re being such a  good girl  for them already, you deserve approval in return for your honesty.

“S’all right, I was a late bloomer too, y’know.” Sam snickers, easing what Sebastian assumes is the obvious sexual tension as if it were nothing, watching as Sam leans back against the bed wall as if his cock wasn’t also twitching now that they were so close to you. Closer than ever before, so close that they can fucking  smell  the desperation coming off of ya. “Think Seb was too, werent’cha?”

It takes Sebastian a moment to register the words sent his way, far too busy wetting his lips to the thought of making you cry to pay attention to the conversation. Cause he could, y’know? He could have made fun of you for still being an untouched virgin, bully you into submission until you’re  begging  for the sweet release of his fat cock, until you see no other choice than to accept his cruel treatment as forgiveness. But he refrains, his thumb instead smoothing over your blanket covered thighs as the sheets lower further still from your frame, a consistent reminder that his kind treatment is bearing fruit. “Yeah,” he scratches at the back of his neck with his free hand, staring off into space only to distract himself from the cute pout of your lips, because if he looks for another fucking second he’s liable to jump you right there and then, biting at his own lips to calm his racing heart in the face of your devout innocence.  God he wants to ruin you , corrupt your naive view of the world with his pervert cock and take advantage of your clueless attitude until all you know is him and Sam. It’s what they’re due.

He’s lying, of course. Him and Sam had messed around when they were  much  younger, exploring their sexual appetites together as a regular occurrence ever since. Fuck, even Abi had joined in every now and then, so he’s surprised to see you so easily accept their lie as truth. He’d assumed Abi had maybe told you about their shared experiences, maybe even invited you on occasions despite you never showing up— but the dumb look you adopt tells him otherwise. Upon hearing Sam’s initial misleading statement, he instinctively knew to lean into it. Butter you up or something, he doesn’t really know. It’s getting difficult for him to reason with himself when your tits are just begging for his lips around them, the barely there tank top you’d decided to wear tonight given his reminder that his room runs hot is just  calling to him , leaving him struggling to think straight.

“So uh… Don’t even worry ‘bout it, okay?” He smiles again, cheeks burning from the constant reassurance he’s trying to offer you. It’s the best he can come up with when all his mind can focus on is the swell of your tits and how bad he wants to taste them for the first time in your life.

“Have you done  anything ?” Sam is quick to follow up, and Sebastian is happy to have the spotlight off of him for a moment, allowing him to eye up the space between your tits and your shirt, doing his best to remain undetected as he takes a peek down. It’s a bad idea, he knows it is the moment he does it, eyes instinctively rolling to the back of his head with a hushed gasp escaping his open lips.  Tight  fucking body,  fuck — your fault, remember?

Silence befalls the room and he holds his breath, afraid that if he doesn’t then a moan will slip out from how eager he is to have you— been waiting for this exact moment for as long as he can remember. Sam too, honestly; a shared crush that allowed them to work together, a disgusting alliance built purely on a need to claim you as their own.  Their  best friend.  Their  innocent little bunny who needs to be bred, yeah? And when he lifts his gaze from your tits to your face for a brief moment, all he can see is how hard you look down, staring the same spot he was with a blush adorning your cheeks.  Cute . So fucking pretty that he wants to eat you right up. Quickly gazing at Sam yields the same result, a cocky smirk on his friends face before a fists raises to chew on.

Yeah , Sebastian thinks.  Me too.

“Uh… I, well—”

They already have their answer, but it’s so  fun  making you get all shy like this; the payoff assumedly going to be even sweeter when they eventually coax you out of this timid behaviour. “It’s okay, you know you can  always  be honest with us, sweetheart.” Sam pouts, finger under your chin to tilt your face up at the sun, and Sebastian doesn’t miss the audible gasp the bold move knocks out of you.

“No. I haven’t, um… Y’know…”

Oh,  this  is  fun.

“Haven’t what?” Sebastian grabs your attention now, repeating Sam’s action but instead directing your vision to  him , a soft angel smile on his lips to try and entice you further into him, to force you into saying those dreaded words that you’ve surely spent a lifetime avoiding; but if only you’d admit them, then he’ll reward you nicely. Been so good so far, don’t give up on him now.

“Haven’t… I haven’t uh, had… Sex… Or, really much of anything…” You trail off into soft embarrassed laughter, barely audible over the thump of his own heart, or the sudden shuffle of sheets under Sam’s weight. He’d scold Sam if doing so didn’t immediately give away his own position, and so instead he follows suit. If ya can’t beat em, then join em. Inching closer towards you so that you’re sandwiched between their shoulders, the brush of his hand up and down your thigh surely able to be passed off as a friendly action only, right? And not the lewd action of temptation, a lure to reel you in.

“That’s okay.” He says, more of a whisper than anything, which was an accident at best. Simply stunned by the gift you’ve given them tonight, cock twitching in his pants to be buried inside of you already— show you what you’re missing out on, or maybe, to shamelessly show  himself  what he could have been fucking years ago. But the way his hushed words catch your attention urges him to continue the soft tone, if only because it distracts you from how horny he is— and nothing has really even happened yet. Embarrassing, but understandable. Any man would surely agree; he’s stuck a gold mine with you tonight, and you know no better than if he were to play the role of the virgin with how hard he’s already gotten at your confessions. “In fact… I’d argue it’s pretty cute.” He repeats himself, unable to conjure up anything more worthwhile saying when he’s focusing so hard on not sticking his dick in you already.

“For sure.  Super  cute, even.” Sam adds, though his voice is much more boisterous and causes you to shiver against Sebastian, which he happily accepts with an arm wrapped securely around your shoulder.

“Mhm… But, aren’t you at least  curious ?” He asks nonchalantly, “About how it feels?”

He can feel you tremble some more, leaning further into him in apprehension. Your hearts probably racing by now, right? Two men leaning against you in a hidden basement up in the mountains. Regardless of the familiarity, even innocent lil  you  can recognise what that means, surely.  Fuck , no one but them would hear you during the night, the thought alone causing his cock to leak some more in his underwear. The implication is  right there , sweetheart; and yet he waits patiently for your virgin mind to play catch up to it.

“I mean, a little?” You answer honestly, questioning lilt at the end of your confession as if seeking their approval.

“It’s only natural, after all.” Sam interjects, hand lifted to play with the loose strands of your hair absentmindedly; except it’s not. Not really. In fact, it’s  intentional , and Sebastian knows it to be so given the half-lidded nature of Sam’s gaze on your lips. Which, of course, you’ve got no way of witnessing. Your eyes glues to the pattern of Sebastian’s sheets, staring as if they were the most interesting thing in the room right now, instead of the correct answer being that of your admission of  want . “We could help, if you wanted.”

Sebastian knows that Sam is only suggesting because this would be a whole lot easier if they made you think that tonight was  your idea , rather than a best laid plan of their own. “Yeah, s’not fair that you’ve been left out, right?” He adds on himself, quick and sharp, disallowing you room to think to better their chances of getting lucky tonight. Squeezing your shoulder softly to hopefully coax you out of your understandable anxiety and instead onto your back where you belong.

“Ah, wait!” Your voice is louder than it’s been tonight, panic stricken in the face of their offer. Which Sebastian understands, but still he chews on his bottom lips before he gives into his need to pin you down.  Shut you up . “It’s— Wouldn’t that be  weird , right?” You laugh, and the sound would be sweet if not for the fact that it was standing in the way of both Sebastian and Sam getting what they so desperately wanted. “I mean— we’re  friends . Friends don’t—”

“What, kiss?” Sam scoffs, but his expression remains friendly. Needs to, really. Because despite the assumed shared frustration between them, Sebastian glares at him to keep on your good side. Of course they could take you without much issue, fight back against your retaliations by working together to get you naked, manoeuvring you into whatever position they so please simply because they  want to . But, it’s  easier  this way, no? A little more upfront effort, but the end will be much sweeter. “I mean  fuck , me and Seb do it all the time!”

It’s not a lie, but seeing your expression turn to one of shock makes him think that  you  think it’s a lie, so Sebastian takes the opportunity to swiftly settle the score.

“S’true. Friends can kiss, promise it’s not weird.”

“Really?” You immediately interrogate, head tilted up to properly look at him, and  God you’re so cute like this , disbelief lacing your tone even after his confirmation. Are you thinking about them kissing right now? Imagination running wild with what your two best friends must have been up to all this time together?  Jealous that you weren’t included?

“Really,” Sebastian’s hand leaves your shoulder to instead gently cup the back of your neck, rubbing up and down your nape in an effort to convince you of his words. “Do you wanna try?” he questions only as a formality. He’d going to kiss you tonight whether you want to or not, but it’s nice to be nice sometimes, y’know?

There’s a pause before you answer, considering your options as they creep closer together. Not enough that you’d notice given how full your empty lil mind is, but the nearer Sebastian gets to you, the more he notices. Your faint scent, how warm your body feels; must be from embarrassment, or perhaps excitement at the prospect of his lips on yours?  Fuck , he’s certainly excited himself. Cock leaking beads for you as you make him wait, the hand he has on your neck ever so slightly pinching to get your attention back on him.

“What d’ya say?” he questions when you look up at him, and he has half a mind to immediately lock lips with you to quell his trembling cock, twitching eagerly from how downright  dumb  you look with those pouty lips and furrowed brows.  Too cute — far too cute to be as innocent as you claim, but the quiver in your voice tells him otherwise.

“Um… Only if that’s okay… With both of you, I mean. But just a kiss, okay?”

Got you.

Stupid little mouse, rolling over to show your tummy so  easily , even if you can clearly see his salivating open maw. It’s like you  want  to get eaten alive, not that he’s opposed to the idea. A kiss is all it’s gonna take for them to swallow you whole. After all,  you’re just a dumb little mouse . You won’t know any better. But  he  has experience.  He  knows how to look after you the way you deserve, in tandem with Sam.

Of which, his friend takes the giddy lead with an excitable “So, who do you want to go first?”

A scolding rests on the tip of Sebastian's tongue, annoyance worming to his stomach in fear of Sam’s nature working against their plans, but when you timidly tug on the sleeve of his hoodie and he sees for the very first time that night genuine  worry  (or perhaps fear, they’re cousins), he can’t help but extend you a helping hand. And, if he’s honest, he’d  really like to go first , acting the saviour to protect you from Sam’s hungry teeth out of selfish desire.

Your bottom lip wobbles before him and he tuts down at you quietly, lovingly. Only Sam can understand the triumph in the click, forcing Sebastian to suppress a laugh at the scowl his friend now wears. He inhales deeply before letting you in on a little secret at your indecision.

“You’re so pretty,” He pauses, waiting to see your bashful cheeks, all red hot thanks to his compliment.  Good , you look so  cute  when awaiting his words. “But you’re  so stupid .”

And  oh  the look you give him was worth the pause. Mouth open for him to instinctively stick his fingers into, your pretty eyes wide at his intrusion for him to admire. The first thing he notices is how your tongue is  so soft , unexplored for him to take advantage of with his sweat soaked fingers.  So stupid is right , why would you ever be so surprised at this turn of events? He can only imagine what it’d feel like to have your virgin tongue wrapped around his fat cock, struggling to take his face fucking while your throat closes up due to his rough treatment. Has his cock all hard and needy at just the thought,  God he wants to , wants to shove his pervert cock right against your cheeks, smear dirty precum all over your lips like gloss, see how well you cry for him— but a little whimper you gag around his fingers convinces him otherwise.  Fuck —

“Sorry—” He laughs, deep and genuine, removing his fingers from your open mouth only to hear you sputter for air. “Didn’t mean to scare ya, promise. It’s just—  Ah , you looked too cute, y’know? Couldn’t help myself.” He admits honestly, but the way in which he does so comes across as  pandering , another attempt to allude to the fact that this was all your idea,  remember?  If only you weren’t so pretty.

Alas, with his fingers removed and drying nicely in the cool air of his basement, he cups your cheeks without warning and moves closer, hovering his lips above your own.  Teasing  his taste, practically smirking against your lips when you openly gasp out for him at the sudden turn of events. A deep inhale later and he recognises familiarity. An insidious kind, burrowing deep to his heart as he looms. “Ready?” he whispers against you, still tenderly touching your cheeks as he dives in before you have a chance to answer.  Payback  for when you stole his opportunity to talk earlier, he muses to himself. Immediately poking his tongue out, slipping into your wanting mouth just like how your body is asking him to do— a groan escapes him and down your throat. The delicate touch on your cheek grows flat, before quickly moving to the back of your neck to  grip . A tether to keep himself controlled as he drips saliva onto your tongue, mindful of the fact that you’ve got no idea what you’re doing, but that’s okay. It’s hot enough just to steal your first kiss from you, you can get better with time. Because this won’t be the last time you taste him, even if you don’t know it yet.

He presses closer against you, pulling away only to slowly push his lips back against yours. A soft  smack  filling his ears with how wet his tongue has gotten your lips to become. It’s an instinct for his free hand to wrap around your waist, pulling you even closer to himself as he makes out with you. So agonisingly slow that it even teases him, causing his gasps for air to become strained, his muscles to tense in their obsessive grip of your body. As if claiming  mine , despite Sam watching the whole ordeal and waiting for his turn like a good dog. He feels you sink into him, reciprocating the kiss with a little more ease now that he’s taught you the proper motions, smiling to himself when you experiment by dragging your tongue against his own; and  moaning  with you when you let a whimper slip.

The desperate sigh that follows from your kiss bruised lips is almost just as sweet as your whines, prompting him into a wide grin. Saliva stains shining in the dim light of his room as your eyes catch on to where you’ve just explored.

“You’re good at least.” He half lies, rubbing his thumb against your waist to keep you preoccupied while Sam gets into position behind you. Sebastian admires the string of saliva keeping you attached to him in the meantime

It takes you a moment to collect your breath before reply, and he can’t help but smile down at you with adoration at how cute you are when getting taken advantage of. So much so that you play right fucking into it, d ummy . “Really? I mean, are you sure—”

Before finishing your question, Sam has your chin tilted back for your body to follow, landing your back against his chest and ass between his legs. “C’mere, s’my turn.” Is all Sam says before placing his lips on your own too, a greedy growl escaping him at the shared saliva between friends.

Sebastian tilts his head at the way your eyes widen, palm automatically coming into contact with his too hard cock to pet at while you’re being kissed. It’s interesting, really, to see what you look like when enjoying yourself; when you’re being exploited for selfish gain. You’re so pretty when prone, and if he hadn’t just endured your inexperienced kissing then he’d for sure assume you were still lying about being a complete virgin, but the way you clumsily hold on to Sam’s wrist for stability while he far too eagerly kisses you is cute if nothing else. Just like you, skin flushed and eyes squeezed tightly shut, the way you try to keep up with Sam’s agility by way of arching your back— a pretty fucking sight by the way,  are you sure you’re actually a virgin?  The whiplash you must be experiencing causes his cock to drool under his rough palm, circling the leaking tip to the sight of Sam’s free hand clutching your hair, pushing your face against his own with fervour. “See, told ya.” Sebastian praises you, heart fluttering in his chest when you attempt to respond, but Sam’s tongue is too overpowering. Choking your words before they even have a chance to sound—  fuck , that’s so hot. Your gasped mewls and furrowed brows; he can barely stand it. Wants to stick his dick in you already, clawing at the wet fabric of his tight jeans while Sam eats your face.

Maybe he’s a little jealous, especially when he catches a glimpse of your cute tummy laid bare for his eyes to feast on. An immediate suck of air and a roll of his eyes to the back of his skull, hips instinctively rolling against his perverted paw from the tiniest show of skin.  God , he’s— no,  they’ve  got it so bad for you and your stupid virgin mind can’t even begin to comprehend it, can you? How the sight of Sam’s hands travelling up and down your untouched tummy to eventually make groping actions at your chest sets his tummy aflame, equal parts envious and horny, a shiver of pleasure rolling down his spine when you sputter away from Sam’s lips to anxiously ask: “ Wait!  Just— aren’t we just  kissing,  I—”

Too slow , Sam had manoeuvred your face back to his own for more sloppy sounding kisses for Sebastian to jerk his cock to.  Silly little girl , it was never  just kissing . He remembers how you had asked for that to be the case, but; neither one of them had  promised , did they?

While Sam is busy sucking your face, Sebastian decides to indulge a little more in himself. He’d have liked to have taken things slower than his counterpart, but it’s difficult to blame Sam for his excitement when you’re quite literally in his lap; Sebastian knows he’d be unable to control himself if the roles were reversed too. Are you kidding? A pretty little virgin just  begging  for corruption, unsullied body receptive to their every touch. There’s so much he wants to do to you, yknow. So much he  can  do to you now that you’re distracted again, unintentionally slutty moans hummed down his friends throat.

First, he tugs his jeans off. Leaves his boxers on for now, it’s more fun that way, right? He crawls closer to you after throwing his clothing to the ground below, tapping on your knees to watch them easily fall apart for him. “ Fuck—”  he sighs, slotting himself between your legs. “So  easy , you’re trembling.”

Maybe the mention of such startles you, but Sam seems determined to keep sucking on your tongue, strings of saliva caught between his lips and yours, you’ve got no room to do anything else but whine for more. And you’ll get it,  fuck you’ll get it,  they’re determined now that they’ve had a taste .  Moving his hands to either side of you and Sam, making sure to rest the tip of his cock against your still clothed hole, but  fuck it already feels good,  doesn’t it? To just have it sit there, twitching and drooling all over your clothes as a reminder of what you do to him, of how easily domesticated you are from just one messy kiss. He’d like to have heard your reaction, but there’s pleasure enough to be had in feeling your hips reflexively shift against him, cunt so close, teasing his resolve without even knowing it. A natural born slut, you’re lucky it was your friends that discovered this side of you and not someone more sadistic… As if they weren’t being mean enough themselves, biting on your lip and squeezing at the fat of your thighs.

Having you writhe under him prompts his hips to start moving, gentle rocks back and forth to contrast Sam’s abrasive groping, though Sebastian isn’t complaining when your shirt gets ruthlessly removed and your pretty tits are spilling out from your bra. Makes his head all fuzzy just looking at em, hands finding home on your waist to keep you pinned against his friend while he bucks his tip against your hidden hole. Even this feels too good, doesn’t it? To have all the attention, two hard cocks pressing at both your holes. Bet Sam’s leaking all over himself by now too, dripping onto your ass from how your sensitive body encourages them to continue.  See , he thinks,  you  are  asking for it .

“Isn’t this more fun, huh?” He asks, a hint of knowing on his tongue. “Y’sure look like it’s more fun,  God — Look at’chu—” He mutters, only because he’s too focused on rocking his cock against your covered slit to have you making more of those pretty sounds you’re echoing into Sam’s mouth, rather than keeping track of exactly what he’s saying. Spilling dirty words for you in abundance as Sam gives you a moments respite, just enough time to undress his lower half. “Are you sure you’re a virgin?” He taunts you from above, knows that you’re too breathless to reply with the drool coating your cheeks. Sam’s always been a messy kisser.

It’s as you’re catching your breath that Sebastian moves you into a different position, growing impatient with Sam when he struggles with his underwear, though thankfully your face is turned from Sam when his cock finally snaps against his tummy. A low thud almost catching your attention, if not for the way Sebastian’s body covers your view as he helps you lay down with your back on his bed. “C’mon, catch your breath, pretty.” He coos at you, all soft and loving despite his degenerate thoughts about how sweet you look when struggling. Practically eye fucking you as his face hovers above you, propping himself into half sitting up to watch the conflict of tonights situation flash across your face.  Cute , he mumbles to himself, before his vision drops to your bra and he thinks  hot .

While you’re busy trying to ground yourself, Sebastian takes to dancing his fingertips down your chest, ghosting over your tummy, until eventually reaching the band of your bottoms. He pings at them a few times, relishing in the wince you send him each time the fabric smacks against your soft skin. Until eventually, his fingers dig  under  your clothing to help leverage Sam into hauling them off. So badly does Sebastian want to take a peek, just a small glance down at your panties, selfish desire pooling in his cock as it twitches against your side. But he’s got time, he can take it slow; even if Sam refuses to do so himself.

“I— Wait,  please . I need a second before—”

“Aha…  Oops .” Sebastian mocks, pressing his fingers against your slit once he feels that Sam has dragged your underwear completely off. Only, he  groans  with his words too, pained at just how wet your little cunt has already gotten from some light foreplay. Just a little kissing and you’re  soaked , you really must be a virgin, right?  Oh you sweet thing , if you’re this wet already, then you’ve got no hope of surviving until the end of the night. The thought of which only turns Sebastian on some more, prompting him into matching the rooms state of undress as he lets his cock free with a heavy sigh, incidentally smearing precum all over your bare hips while the pads of his fingers explore your virgin cunt.  So fucking hot, holy shit—

“ Relax , baby,” Sebastian isn’t sure if Sam had meant to sound so condescending, but he can’t deny how hot it is to see one of his best friends so dangerously out of control when face to face with your cunt. He takes a look at Sam upon hearing how strained his voice is, and the look of sheer desperation painted on his face is enough to convince Seb to start toying with your clit. Little circles, barely there if he’s being honest, but of course it’s enough to get your untouched body  reeling . Wiggling and croaking, the feeling of your hand grasping on for dear life onto his shirt only serving to rile him up further, makes him buck his cock against your waist a little more intentional. He can’t stop himself even if he tried, snapping his vision back to you to watch you fall apart on his meagre touch.

If you’re this fun to toy with now, he can hardly wait till he’s got his cock in you. Fat beads of precum leaking all over you as Sam lowers to your cunt level, heart racing in his chest at the prospect of deflowering you in such a nasty way. You can’t even  decline  their advances, not when Sebastian continues flicking your clit, dragging his fingers down your slit to dip into your heated hole. A gasp escapes him upon coming into contact with your wetness, slick coating his fingers with a gush as he angles his hand downwards; allowing Sam enough room to nose against your puffy clit.

“Fu-uck ,” Sam whines, all broken and  needy  as he sniffs your slit. “Oh my  God ,” He continues, Sebastian taking the opportunity of distraction to start pumping your little hole with a single finger while Sam drools over your cunt with slurred words. Can’t fight back when you’ve lost your voice to moans, can you? “Smell so good— Wanna lick it so bad,  fuck , wanna taste you—”

“Go on then.” Sebastian encourages Sam, spreading your cunt open for ease of access, and he’s surprised to hear just how breathless his voice sounds when he’s got you whining into his chest, blushing cheeks buried against his shirt like earlier with his sheets. Can’t get enough of him, can you? Not that he’s doing any better, practically ready to bust just from curling a single finger inside of you, cursing quietly to himself when his flicks earn a full body shiver from you. You’re already so fucking tight, just barely able to take his single finger inside— the thought of having that tightness wrapped around his cock causes him to throw his head back.

And he knows Sam has started lapping at your cunt when you  sob  into him, soft and pretty cries crooned into bundled shirt.  Fuuuuck , he needs you. Needs you so bad that his heart  hurts  to hear more, arm taut and muscles tight as he focuses on offering you precise flicks of the finger inside of you; gotta stretch you out properly to take his cock, yeah? And  oh you’ll look so pretty  when stuffed full, won’t you? He hopes you cry when he’s inside too, wrapping an arm under your back to secretly unclip your bra, taking a brief pause in fingering you only to throw it to the side. And when you’re fully exposed he keeps his arm under you, circling it back around to cradle you in his arms— and to be able to grope at your tits a little. He’s so  mean , isn’t he? Leveraging your surely confused and vulnerable state against you, selfishly kneading and pinching at your pretty tits.  Ah , he takes a quick look at them— or what he can see of them with your body twists to hide against him. It’s a mistake,  of fucking course it is , given just how hard his cock already is— because the sight of them rising and falling harshly under his fingertips is almost too much to bare.  Almost  convinces him to shove Sam out of the way so that he can have you all to himself; that is until you arch towards him and he falls like moth to a lamp into your chest. Gently, mind you, lips latching on to your nipples with  hunger . Dizzying desire clouding his judgement when he nips at them a little, growling delight against your tit as praise for taking his abuse so well. The unsure sounds you let out only spur him on to continue, cock tip slipping against your tummy with the amount of pre your coax out of him.

Slurps soon fill the air, mixing perfectly with the sweet squelch of his fingers diving in and out of your tight little cunt. It’s about time he introduces another, right? Otherwise you’ll be forced to take his cock unprepared, and though he intends to deflower you tonight, he’s not so mean as to make it  hurt . Sneaking another finger in is easy with a loud suck of your nipples, he hopes to distract you from the stretch despite your telling whines. “ Shh, s’okay. ” He mumbles after popping off your tit for just a second, rubbing his nose against your head to grab your attention. “Doing so well… For a virgin, anyway.” He smiles when you meet his fond gaze.

Sam hums against your cunt and Sebastian matches the sound when he hears your gasp in return, keeping you attention with a nod towards Sam. “Look at ‘im.” He implores you, scissoring his fingers inside of you  slowly , almost lazily so that you have more freedom to gawk at how eagerly Sam licks and sucks up and down your cunt.  Hell , Sebastian can even feel his tongue run along his fingers at times too, assumedly trying to suck off all of your slick clean from your hole.  Greedy , Sebastian thinks to himself.  I want a taste too.

He moves with you, peering over to take a look at the mess between your legs, and involuntarily grinds his hips into you at the sight that greets him. How  dirty  he feels, fingers glistening with your slick, Sam’s face obscured between your folds— but his saliva still stains your thighs. “Shit—” he sighs, suddenly increasing the speed at which his fingers curl inside of you. An increasingly loud squish emanating from your hole with how slippery they’ve got you causes his head to hang low, more focused than ever to have you cum for the first time on his fingers;  he’s selfish . Wants that taste of you too.

“ Ah—!  No, wait—” you immediately fall back— always with the  wait  with you, haven’t they proven their worth to you yet? You should trust them to look after you by now, given that Sam’s tongue sucks those pretty high pitched moans out of you, and Sebastian’s fingers fuck silent gasps to crawl up your throat. “Feels—  No, ah—!  Feels weird!”

“Dummy.” Sebastian lets out a dry snicker, doubling his efforts of making you cum now that he knows you’re close. It’d be laughable knowing how clueless you really were; so much so that you don’t even know what’s happening to you right now, if not for the way he has to physically tense up his whole fucking body so as to not cum with you, excitement shivering down his spine at the prospect of granting you the pleasure of your first  proper  orgasm.  See, isn’t he so nice?  Sam too, the way he digs his nails into the fat of your thighs with an iron grip, keeping your cute cunt still for him to service— because that’s what they’re doing right now. They’re  servicing you , offering up themselves to you for your own benefit. They’re not taking advantage of anything: you might be a virgin, but you’ve got the body of a slut, your approaching orgasm only serving as further proof of your promiscuity. “You’re close, just give in baby.” He both encourages and clues you in, picking up the pace some more; a brutal speed unbefitting a virgin like you, but the look of sheer  enjoyment  on your face is inspiration enough to continue. “ C’mon , give it to me, yeah?” his tone is  leering , downright  insidious  with lust, spilling from his lips just like second nature. It’s what ruining filthy virgins like you does to him, apparently. “Jus’ wanna make you feel good, jus’ helping a friend out, remember?”  Lies . But you’d believe anything coming from his dishonest lips wouldn’t you, especially when you’re on the cusp of something that feels so  good , right? Both tongue and fingers coaxing your orgasm out, a few more seconds is all it takes for his eyes to narrow in on your angry expression, cunt quivering around his skilful fingers with plenty grip to leave him just  itching  to fuck you. And  fuck— the sounds you make . High strung and erotic, more so than he’s ever heard you before. Instantly, he registers your moans as addictive.  Wanna hear that again, wanna make you sound like that some more, keep gasping our names all pretty like that—

But he’s kind, remember? He wouldn’t be knuckle deep in your pretty little cunt if he wasn’t at least sort of generous, crooking his fingers against your warm insides gently, massaging your walls sympathetically to help you properly ride out your very first orgasm— how  cute.  How completely adorable it is to be finger fucking you through one of your first naughty experiences ever, and on his bed no less! A memory he’ll keep with him for as long as he lives, if only to bully you about it later down the line. And of course, he can’t forget about the help Sam has offered you, and he wants to make sure you don’t too.

“Look so pretty when cumming, angel.” He coos at you, faux sweet tone hummed against the top of your head as he scissors inside of you two more times before pulling out, not missing the way you involuntarily whine at the loss of fullness.  Dirty girl , you’re a quick learner if nothing else. A woman after his own heart. And by that he means;  fucking needy . “Say  thank you , remember.”

Despite you dazed state, still in the midst of what must be a mind blowing experience, you find the strength to look up at him with a dopey smile that tugs on his heartstrings. “Thank—  S-Sam , stop!”

“ Sorry—”  Sam heaves, eventually pulling away from your creaming cunt with his tongue still lolled and a face full of shine. Sebastian thinks he’s pretty like that; almost as pretty as you are when you sigh before following orders.  Good , he likes them submissive. And from your subservient attitude thus far tonight, he bets you’ll be a good fuck too— in spite of your virgin status. Not for long now if he has anything to do with it. And given how soft and pliable you are in his arms right now, he thinks he’s got more than a fighting chance at claiming you for the very first time; so that no one else can.  Well , besides Sammy, but that’s a given.

Sebastian taps your thigh with his cum covered fingers to get your attention again, now that Sam has stopped diverting you with wolfish laps. “You were saying?” He prompts you again, placing a chaste kiss to the top of your head while he idly grabs and tugs at your hip.

“Um— Thank you… For, y’know… All that.” You sheepishly sigh, which can only mean one thing.

Reality is settling, isn’t it? The fact that you friends have just fucked you into submission, tore your first group orgasm out of you without a care in the world. Sebastian wonders about what you must be thinking right now. Do you regret it, or are you just shy? Given the slight tremble still present in your legs as Sam kisses down them, awaiting Sebastian’s instructions, he thinks you must have enjoyed yourself at least. He’s experienced Sam’s tongue enough times to know how deceptively adept he is at using it. But, in the off chance that you might be feeling the beginnings of repentance, Sebastian’s quick to act.

“There’s no need to thank us yet—” He huffs, pulling away from your side only to manhandle you into a different position. You’re still drunk off that high, aren’t you? It’s easy to tell since you’re so easy to move, without a single word he’s able to mould you into shape. “We’re just getting started.”

And there it is. A flicker of recognition in your glassy eyes, the threat of welling tears as you suddenly understand that you had only asked for a kiss; a fairly simple act in and of itself, no?  Innocent , even. And yet, despite your utter overstimulation thanks to Sam’s dog like tendencies to lick and lick and  lick  until the sun comes up, the thought that they have more to show you is overwhelming, isn’t it? Sure looks that way when you scrunch your nose up in confusion, eyes wide at the feeling of his hands ghosting your legs. It’s the cutest look in the world Sebastian thinks,  finally  tugging at his neglected cock after he’s got you in the perfect missionary position— except your head hangs low over the edge of the bed.

In the spirit of getting rid of your firsts, why not go all the way, right? It’s what Sebastian is thinking anyway as he drips globs of precum down onto your cunt. Accidentally, of course, but the picture is pretty all the same. Like a claim,  mine .

The weight of what’s about to come must be heavy on your chest, hypnotising Sebastian as he watches it rise and fall in anticipation. Nobody moves once in position, all awaiting some sort of  right moment  to get started again— that is until you let out a little squeak. A pitiful sound, one that has his cock all twitchy and drooly.

“I don’t— I thought we were just gonna  kiss . I don’t think I’m ready for—  Ah! ”

He’s known to have some persuasive hands. Tickling up and down your trembling thighs, eyes trained on the bob of your throat when he inches just a little too close for comfort against your cunt. There’s no need to be shy now, you’ve just covered his sheets in cum.

“C’mon, you’re a big girl, aren’t you? Just the tip wont hurt. Promise we won’t go any further, right Sammy?”

Sam lags behind, catching Sebastian’s eye with a roll of his own, knuckles white where they grip at the edge of the bed— either side of your head. He wonders how Sam must look to you, from your angle where you hang off to stare at him from below. Does he look just as  ruined  as he does to Sebastian right now? Or maybe all you can see is cock. Heavy and heady, dangling just out of reach from your lips. Do you want a taste? And then, he can only imagine how he himself must look. Red hot cock jerking all over your front, so close he can practically taste your cunt already, experimentally letting his thumb hover close enough to spread your lips apart and—  oh , what a pretty girl you are. All nice and wet, puffy little clit just  begging  for some more stimulation. He can’t hope to hold himself back now, huffing short bursts of air as he teeters on the edge of just  shoving it in already , exhaling sharply through his nose like some sort of dog.

“Uh-huh.” Is all Sam offers, and Sebastian gets it. Really, he feels it on some sort of spiritual level. The cockiness to his friends tone, the curt nature of the response. They’re both at their limit, and they’re both seedy little liars who want nothing more than to just fuck you silly. To ruin a pretty virgin like you.

A rather simply ask, no?

“Won’t that… Y’know, hurt or something?” You mumble, shying away further from their faux promise. Sebastian only wishes he could see your expression at the same time as your timid question, he bets you wear worry well.

Regardless, he lines his leaking tip up to your sopping cunt despite your vocalised worries, impatience thick in his selfish action when he tugs at his tip a few times, biting down on his bottom lip so as to not embarrass himself by moaning at the slightest touch. Because he wants to, not even inside of you yet and he’s already close to painting you white. You were responding so well to them earlier, all pretty moans and sighs, so give them what they’re due. It’s only fair, right?

But still, he shrugs. Even if you can’t physically see it, he’s not fully present to provide an attentive answer to your understandable question anyway, easily sliding his tip between your folds slowly . Teasing himself more than anything, rutting himself to the edge just for fun. Because you’re under him, and he wants to. A quick gasp shared among friends at the slippery glide up and down reminds him of your position, jaw tight with barely there restraint as he hisses  something, anything  through his teeth. Just to get the ball rolling again.

“The tip? No, absolutely not.” How would he know? He’s not the one about to take cock right now. But he’d say just about  anything  if it meant he got to bury himself deep inside your tight virgin little hole. Not that his answer actually matters with the way Sam’s cock blocks your vision, jerking precum onto your chin just like how his cock hovers nears your hole— you’ll soon have no way your voice concern.

And the sooner that happens the  easier  for him, looking up at Sam for all but a second before his nails dig into your thighs to pry them open even wider, spurred on by the look of desperation Sam adorns when feeling the heat of your breath brush against his profusely drooling tip. Sebastian’s heavy cock slips and slides between your folds on a whim, his breath hot and fraught with absolute  need  to steal your virginity away in the worst way possible. But you’re soft, aren’t you? A shy little lamb, ripe for his brutal taking. He panders to you once more, preparing himself for what he assumes will be one of the best experiences of his life. Sullying his best friend— is there anything better?

“Just the tip, okay? You can do that for me, can’t you?” He sighs above you, both in love and frustration. You feel so fucking good already, he fucking hates it. “Promise it won’t go further, just the tip.”

“I— Guys, I’m not sure if I’m  ready  for this—” Oh, how cute you sound when so scared. It’s okay, he believes in you.

But more than that, Sam is at his limit. A forced groan garbs Sebastian’s attention away from watching his cock  almost  disappear into your tight hole, finger fucked and stretched for  him , but Sam begs for attention.

“Course y’are. Why else would y’be this fuckin’ wet, huh?” He seethes, and the urgency lacing his words just  does something  to Sebastian’s brain. Short circuits it, forces him to reconcile with the fact that he’s never heard Sam get this agitated during sex before. It’s nice. It’s  hot  seeing his best friend all worked up like this, watching in slow motion as Sam angles his pretty cock to your lips only to smear precum all over them, a wet gloss coating the lower half of your face due to how much Sam needs you. Can’t you see? Can’t you  feel  the way Sebastian’s cock begs against your cunt, how your hips wiggle and shift under him as if  asking  for that which you’re so scared of. Don’t worry, he’ll hold your hand through it. S’not so bad when it happens, you might even enjoy yourself— though that part isn’t necessary.

There’s ought else left to do but join in on the fun, something that takes Sebastian a second to consider as he appears hypnotised by the sight of your lips parting automatically, like your body knows what to do even if you’ve never done it before yourself. A natural born  slut , of course you’re going to enjoy yourself. Wet little cunt gushing around his cock before he’s even put it in; you’re pleading to be domesticated, aren’t you? And  fuck  the sound you make when Sam slyly slips inside of your wanting mouth? All muffled and choked, matching perfectly with Sam’s aggressively relaxed sigh into you.

Without a single thought else, he  finally, fuck he’s been waiting so long for this moment,  pushes inside of you. Just like he promised, only the tip. But immediately he has to tear his hands away from your thighs and instead plant them at either side of your waist to even hold himself upright, sheer pleasure striking down his spine for him to shiver into you, and then before he has a chance to even adjust to your tight little virgin cunt, he’s already setting a far too unfair pace even for himself to keep up with. Forget  just the tip , fuck, are you kidding him? Pure desperation, unadulterated pleasure present in every stroke of his cock inside, fists balled into his sheets below to search for any semblance of control left— but your cunt sucks it out of him, just as well as your hole already sucks him off; you should be thankful he went through the extra effort of prepping you, especially when you’ve offered him your sweet seclusion tonight. And wow... You really must be a virgin from how immediately tight you are, he finds it difficult to fully rock into you until drawing his hips back a few times. He could have easily taken you as soon as you walked in, but  fuck  if he isn’t happy that he took the time to open you up. Help finger your first orgasm out of you so that you squeeze around his cock that little bit harder from overstimulation now that he’s inside, causing him to moan into the guttural sputters Sam’s face fucking pounds out of you.

He’s sure that if your throat wasn’t currently occupied with cock right now you’d be a whimpering mess for him, hips rolling into you with precision, a practised back and forth along your unkissed walls for him to  ruin . Because that’s what he wants to do with you, wants to corrupt you to the point of shame, destroy any hope of you enjoying anyone else in future because no one but him and Sam could ever hope to have you feeling the way you do right now. The perfect mixture of fear and pleasure, unsure of what to focus on more— his balls slapping against your ass to leave a soft  plap!  sound filling the air, or the taste of Sam’s salty precum dripping down your throat.

He’s thrown out of his indulgent thoughts only because of Sam’s greedy gulps of air, the look of fervour should be illegal on him. “Shouldn’t—  Ah, fuck , jus’ like that—” Sam cuts himself off, almost falling into you from how hard he leans over, back bent to better fuck your throat with. “Should you be wearing a— a condom, right?” he finally manages to force out in between humps and moans, but Sebastian doesn’t miss the sick smile Sam wears with his otherwise serious words. The shared understanding going straight to Sebastian’s cock at how mean they’re treating you right now, with no regard for your thoughts or feelings because you just feel  that good . Even if he wanted to take you into consideration, every thrust inside of your tight little virgin cunt renders him useless, a mere babble of sighs and groans, emphasising his want for you with cruel humps and grabby hands at your waist. Tugging lightly at your skin for some kind of purchase, because his mind can scarcely keep up with every unfair squeeze your hole wraps around his length.

“Ah, probably—” Sebastian sighs, but there’s no intention behind it. Lazily fucking his cock inside of your almost too tight cunt, the mere thought of pulling out to put on a condom causing his heart to race. His mind to repeat  no, no, it feels too good to leave now!  “Jus’ a few more seconds, then— Then I will.  Promise .” He whispers those last words to you, but you’d never be able to tell by the way he stares at your cunt, eyes trained on where his cock disappears inside; it’s more like he’s talking about you rather than to you.

“She feels—  shit , feels so good, doesn’t she?” Sam half laughs, half moans into the feeling of your throat tightening around him at his dirty words. Sebastian can feel it too, the way your hole wraps even snugger, as if you were asking for more.

And it’s not that Sebastian disagrees, but the tight squeeze fit inside honestly just leaves him a little breathless. Brows furrowed in pure concentration  not  to bust a load inside of you already. He knew you were gonna be tight, but  fuck  aren’t you taking things a little too far? His hips stutter into you, all precision lost on him when you wriggle around under him, the sight of your hands clawing at Sam’s hips driving him  insane  with lust pooling in his tummy.  Dirty girl , you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?

“She’s a tight fuck,  God , you gotta feel her, gotta fuck her—” Sebastian rambles, mind almost as much of a mess as his thighs currently are with your sticky slick and the gush of precum that dribbles down your ass to stain his sheets with every shove of his cock inside.  Greedy , eager thrusts, fucking himself into a sweat that clumps his hair to his forehead, a few drops trickling down to hit your exposed tummy. Talking about you like you aren’t really there, just a hole to be fucked, an object they have the pleasure of using. And it’s a pleasure indeed, especially when Sebastian rocks his hips so deep into you that his tip kisses your cervix, prompting him to apply more weight to your sides for better leverage. A sharper angle to fuck you in, rough moans crawling up his throat at the gargled sounds you’re forced to make in response to the ruthless throat fucking Sam has you enduring. You look so cute when pliable, tits bouncing for Sebastian to become mesmerised to. He wants em back in his mouth, but he can’t slow his thrusts down enough to latch on.

But above, where Sam and Seb can look at each other, Sebastian notices how little distance is left between them. Both bent over your pretty body, taking what they want from you simply because they can. And in the heat of the moment, after a quick glance at each other, Sebastian’s tongue pokes out for just a second too long before Sam falls further forward, tongues meeting before lips eventually do too. Feeling his friends tongue glide against his own, and then eventually the weight of having his tongue  sucked  whilst being balls deep in your cunt has his cock throbbing hard, leaking more precum out against your walls to increase the already egregious wet slap of his thrusts. It’s all a bit too much even for him, let alone poor little virgin you, taking it in both holes because you’re in no position to fight back. And  that  turns him on even more too, openly moaning loud and clear down Sam’s throat while yours is getting fucked, swallowing every drip of saliva and needy groan Sam has to offer him while pinching at your sides for grounding. But it’s useless, isn’t it? With the way your insides squirm around his cock, how tight and taut his balls grow with every slap against your ass, the feeling of one of your hands wrapping so firmly around his wrist, like you’re scared that if you let go you’ll disappear, makes him sigh with adoration.

And he wants to reassure you that in spite of their rather inattentive and immoral actions tonight, they’re  thankful  to be using you, but Sam has one hand on your throat to feel his length hump up and down it, and the other at the back of Sebastian’s neck, effectively pinning him in position to suck some tongue. Not that he’s complaining, but  God , with the way you cunt is forced to stretch to his size, a greedy need to fuck you into the shape of him, to leave your body printed on his sheets for the days to come, selfish desire dribbling from his tip and onto your cervix with every rapid thrust inside— barely able to catch his breath from Sam stealing it, humming between moans shared amongst friends because you feel  so fucking good all tight like that, oh my God . It’s too much, he feels so good bullying his cock inside of you again and again, feeling the throb from tip to balls, drooling and trembling over your exposed front thanks to how messy of a kisser Sam is when lost in the feeling of your tongue massaging his length.

And the realisation suddenly hits him as he feels the all too familiar twitch in his cock, tummy doing a little flip as he forcefully removes his lips from Sam to take a sharp intake of air. A gasp, downright dirty in how he chokes on it, followed by a high pitched little whine that he wasn’t aware he could make—  the things you do to him .

He’s fucking  you . One of his best friends, a filthy little virgin in spite of how expertly your body reacts to his grabs and pulls, his head thrown back in pleasure only to swing the other way to hang low as his thrusts grow sloppier. Less precise and more  feeling , unable to keep a consistent rhythm when your body knows exactly how to squeeze him just the way he likes, the puddle of slick and pre collecting under you coaxing him to add to the pile. His heart aches with even more twisted want.

“You’re so good to me—” he practically huffs, annoyance lacing his tone in spite of the otherwise kind compliment. It’s just—  Fuck , he can’t focus. So close to the edge due to all your previous teasing, the devious smirk Sam wears when listening to his feminine fucked tone only adding to his frustrations “Best—  God , you’re the best friend ever—” he laughs, but it’s all breathless and barely there when suffering the snug fit of your cunt. Like you were made to take his cock; and soon to be Sam’s. Held off just for them, didn’t you pretty girl? With how good you have him feeling, it’s easy for Sebastian to convince himself of such facts. “Just— You’ve jus’ gotta lay there and take it, okay? That’s all—  all you’ve gotta do. ” He winces into his words, doing his best to hold off on cumming for just a little longer, burying his bully cock into you just a little deeper. Because despite having the rest of the night to share with you, he’s  selfish ; and he doesn’t wanna stop. Not for anything, your cunt is so warm and nice, sucking off his heavy cock so sweetly— the thought of having to stop irks him instantly.

And he doesn’t think you’ll ever quite understand the joy turned lust at taking your virginity like this. How he feels just so  special  to be treating you like this— knows deep down in the pit of his stomach that Sam will too, especially when enjoying his sloppy seconds he’s about to give you like the nasty man he is. How he can feel your cunt struggle to fit his fat size, fucking your shape into the sheets below, Sam’s hands rough around your throat to  really  face fuck you now— he must be close. Sebastian can’t blame him, teetering dangerously on the edge himself through sheer willpower alone, he wants to watch you get ruined just as much as he wants to ruin you.  Their  perfect little princess turned slut, a mess of fluids and dumb brains, he feels lucky to be able to see you like this; even if it’s only because he and Sam have worked together to coax you into the bunny trap they laid out with ill intentions. But can you blame them? Surely not, your cunt doing her best to milk him dry, accepting his full fat length like a  good girl . He decides to reward her with lazy pets, inaccurate circles against your clit more as a distraction than anything of substance. A self serving action, playing with you more as a toy than as someone who would like touch; but he doesn’t feel or hear you protesting, quite the opposite really.

Nails clawing on his arms, begging just as much as his cock does when it twitches inside of you. It’s okay, he understands all to well what you’re probably feeling right now; or at least he thinks he does. He can only guess after all. But the way you desperately cling on for dear life, how your legs raise  just a little , like you’re trying to get closer to him, or better yet— help him hit that spot inside of you that you must intrinsically understand exists, tells him all he needs to know. You’re close again, and by the looks of things, so is Sam.

It’s your choice at the end of the day. That’s what he’s worked so hard for together with Sam to try and make you feel. If you wanna cum, you will. His thumb drawing sloppy circles against your clit while his cock stutters inside of you, quick snap thrusts to rub his tip across your cervix again. He’s alarmingly close to cumming inside of you already, and he’s got no qualms about finishing before you have the chance. Though embarrassingly, Sam seems to have beat him on that front. A cough of your name, stuck in his friends throat with a final thrust down your own— surely leaving you suffocating from the amount of cum Sam tends to shoot. Which is hot, Sebastian quickly decides. Balls tightening up at the sound of Sam’s loud whines, the sight of the little bit of cock you weren’t able to swallow pulsing against your tongue  doing things to him, God . You’re so hot without even trying, even the little sniffles and wheezes you let out when Sam eventually pulls out of your throat are cute, allowing Sebastian full control of your body which he happily takes within his own two hands.

Now that he has you all to himself, he takes proper hold of your hips and fucks you  down , matching his every upwards thrust to leave you squeaking like a fucking toy.  So hot, so fucking hot, fuck — he feels  dizzy . Particularly when you gasp out a quick  feels good, Seb!  And he’s got no choice but to hammer into you now. Acting the savage with how fast he fucks into you— Sam has to hold your shoulder weight with how hard he thrusts, practically fucking you off the bed to leave the mattress squeaking just as much as you do.

“ You cant—”  he takes a big gulp of air, struggling to keep up with his speed. “Can’t just fucking  say that , you’re so fucking hot—” red hot embarrassment rises to his cheeks from how pathetic he sounds, all high and soft, like a bitch in heat. Which is humiliating mostly because  he’s  supposed to be making  you  sound like that. “Letting me hit it raw?  Fuck , so hot, I—”

He’s close. Thumb thrumming away at your clit out of instinct,  begging  to feel you cream his cock while he fucks you into the mattress below. And thankfully, it only takes a few more rubs for him to get what he wants—  you’re such a good friend, aren’t you? Treating him so well, giving him exactly what he wants when he wants it; such a good little fuck   for a virgin .

And while he’d love to praise you to the high heavens for cumming around his cock all sweetly like that, mouth hanging open in a silent sob, a quiet whisper of his name quickly following as your insides grip his cock so tight it’s almost too difficult for him to move— you’ve left him  dumb . Rendered stupid   inside of your no longer virgin cunt in awe at how fucking good it feels to make you cum. Addictive, almost. Because as soon as he starts spilling inside of you, he already wants to do it again. And again, and again, continuing his thrusting despite your sobs for him to stop out of overstimulation— that’s the best bit, don’t you know? To soak your insides white while you cry all cutely for him, the little sniffles you send his way only prompting more cum to shoot, cock fucking it as deep as possible when his hips refuse to let up. And even when you’ve fully milked him and he  knows  he’s running empty, he just can’t stop. Gently rolling into you despite how he’s quickly softening, only fully stopping when he inevitably slips out and he can watch his seed ooze out of you like some sort of triumph.

When he does take the time to look at something other than your cunt, he catches sight of how messy you are. From head to toe, a blushing beauty mess thanks to their treatment. It’s a good look, y’know. Has his cock already wanting more, silently trembling against himself while he catches his breath enough to compliment you. “Done so well.” He smiles earnestly, and he means it. You should look like that more often.

“Seriously!” Sam beams, back to his ordinary sunshine self after gaining more time to calm down than you and Sebastian. “Dunno about you, and no offence Seb— But, best fuck of my life.”

Sebastian scoffs at his crass words, despite how true they might be. Which is why he feels there’s no need to verbalise  no offence taken , because it’s true. You’re such a good fuck that he can’t give you up, not after having a taste himself. And besides, you seemed to enjoy yourself too, didn’t you? The stupid smile you wear as you come down from your first high, the gentle shake in your legs as you paw at Sebastian to gain his attention.

He tilts his head in your direction, away from the sweet smile Sam wears and down to your just as dulcet tone. “Best— Um, sorry.” You giggle, hiccuping into your words in such a cute manner than he almost wants to choke you. Show you again and again exactly what you do to him, and by extension, Sam. So pretty without even trying, it’s annoying. He loves it. “Best kiss ever, I think.” You manage to get out, and Sebastian can only hang his head low in agreement, a twinge of guilt crawling up his throat.

“In that case…” Sam distracts him, moving to the bed and crawling over beside Sebastian, lightly pushing him out of the way. Sebastian would complain if it were worth the while, but he’s got an idea as to what Sam is about to say already, so he automatically assumes the position at your head: just like where Sam was. “Why stop now?”

#💌mail #sdv smut #stardew valley smut #sdv sam smut #sdv sebastian smut #🌸 anon

[wandaslittlelove]

Destined Part 2

Warnings: Kidnapping, mentions of killing I know this part is really bad but I promise the next one will be better

Series Masterlist

Kamar taj is not like anything I had expected it to be. It was a fortress with many young sorcerers training or that's what they were supposed to be doing. Instead they all stood still, waiting for the fight that was bound to happen.

I stood downstairs with America as the roof above us shook violently signifying the fight that was happening upstairs.

“We have to get you out of here.” Strange spoke as he entered the room. Wong explained to us that Kamar taj had fallen and I took a deep breath. I knew Wanda was capable of a lot of things but killing a bunch of innocent people like this? This was madness.

Suddenly the doors began to slam shut and people disappeared into puddles. 

We had to quickly cover all reflectable surfaces but America was too slow and suddenly Wanda appeared in front of us. Wanda made eye contact with me before she went on to explain how her multiverse self had children in every other universe. How those children weren’t just hers but mine.

“None of that is real Wanda.” I spoke, stepping forwards ignoring America pulling my arm back. “At least not in this universe. You choose your life. You choose to cheat on me with vision. To create a life and children with him. Not me.” Wanda took a step towards me and softly caressed my face with her hand before gripping my jaw tightly. I heard a gasp from behind me and could feel the way Strange prepared himself to step in.

“You do not get to speak to me that way, little one. Even if you may not think so, you are still mine. Once I get America's powers I am going to get our children and we will be a perfect family. Now step out of my way.” She releases the grip on my jaw and I step back towards Strange and America. 

“I'm sorry Wanda but I will not let you kill a kid or tear apart a happy family.” With my words Stange sends a creature towards Wanda but she is quick to fight them off and send Strange flying into a wall. She lifts America into the air and I am quick to send a white burst of energy flying towards her but she only dogages it glaring at me.

“Stay back” She growls as she uses her magic to cuff my arms behind my back.

I watch in horror as Wanda uses her magic to suck the energy out of America.

“STOP STOP. WANDA STOP!” I shout and her attention turns back to me. “Don’t hurt her!” I scream again. Suddenly everything seems to go in slow motion as I watch Strange jump towards America knocking her back into the portal she had created. I hear Wanda scream angrily as it closes right behind them and then I feel the pain in my head as she grips my hair tightly dragging me outside. 

I say nothing as tears fall down my face from both the pain and the destruction around me. And nothing as suddenly my vision goes black.

When I wake up I look around confused as I notice my surroundings. Looking around I notice I'm in a bedroom. There are curtains half open on the windows and the door leading out of the room is cracked open. Slowly I sit up and begin to make my way towards the door. My eyes widen as I look down the hallway and see Wanda step out of a portal and into the living room. 

When she sees me she smiles and beckons me over.

“I'm glad you're finally awake Bunny. Come have a seat.” When I refuse to come towards her she frowns and flicks her wrist sending me flying towards her. Out of fear I attempt to send an energy blast at her but panic when I realize I can’t.

“What did you do to me!” I yell as I struggle against her magic. 

“Just a little spell to keep you in line. Your powers do not work anymore. Thanks to the dark hold our powers are no longer balanced.” She speaks as if it's the most simple thing in the world.

“America did you..?” I ask, remembering the portal she had just created.

“No. Her and Strange got away. The portal was to my throne.” she takes a look at my confused face before giggling. “You're such a naive little bunny. At first my goal was to gain America's powers so that I could steal the life of my counterpart but once she got away I figured why do that when I can just have my own. Even if I have to make you give me what I want.” 

Tag list: @alexawynters @username23345 @casquinhaa @idontknow-llol @delulu-bayolet-era @dorabledewdroop @bananasplits-world

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[bloatedandalone04]

In The Way I Need You | Part 10

Series Masterlist

➪in which you start your first shift at jess’ after leaving clay’s house in tears, and a confrontation at work leaves you feeling a lot worse than before.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 3.5k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Clay watched you flee his house with tears in your eyes, and he couldn’t even question you on it before you were gone, your body covered back up by your dress from last night instead of his shirt. 

He had no idea what happened in the three minutes he left you alone for, but apparently it was a lot. Only a few seconds passed by the time he made it to the front door to go after you, but when he looked outside, you were long gone. 

You said you weren’t feeling well and that you needed air, but he was still confused as to why you didn’t let him take care of you. If you weren’t feeling up for that second date, then he would’ve happily let you lay in his bed all day until you felt better, but you fled before he could even offer that to you. 

What happened? 

His brows furrowed as he closed the door loudly and made his way back up to his room, planning on calling you, or at least texting you, as soon as he located his phone. 

But as soon as he entered his room, that plan slipped his mind as his gaze narrowed onto the framed picture that was placed on his still unmade bed. Clay felt his heart drop as he neared the photo, a sick feeling creeping up his throat as he realized who it was of. 

Clay picked up the picture of him and Sam that was taken on their wedding day, and he couldn’t even recognize the version of himself in the photo. It felt like so long ago, and he knew he was a very different person now. 

The guy in the picture was a lovesick fool who missed every single warning sign and red flag Sam gave out. His twenty two year old self felt like a stranger now since he had been forced to grow up so quickly after Joey was born and Sam left him.

He wanted to laugh, because the second things had gotten good with you, Sam fucked it up for him without actually being there. 

Where did you even find this picture? He couldn’t remember where he had put it after tearing his room apart of anything that reminded him of her, so what were the odds that you had found it?

Clay looked around and noticed one of the drawers in his dresser was open a bit, and when he pulled it open and saw an unfolded blue shirt thrown in there, he knew that was where you discovered it. 

This was the drawer Clay barely went into as it was full of all his old tees he used to wear when he was in his late teens and early twenties. They were his vintage and graphic shirts, and the ones he didn’t wear often, so he truly didn’t remember putting the picture in there since he hadn’t opened the drawer in quite a while. 

“Fuck,” he muttered as he picked up the shirt and and looked down at the photo. No wonder you suddenly didn’t feel good, Clay was beginning to feel sick, too, as he stared down at the smiles on his and Sam’s faces. 

Young, dumb and naive Clay. How stupid can you be?

With a groan, he tossed the shirt onto his bed before turning the frame over and practically ripping the back of it off. He pulled the photo from the glass and tossed the frame aside, too, and without a second thought, he ripped it into countless pieces. 

He knew he wouldn’t have been able to do that before he met you, but now that he’d had a glimpse of what life looks like with you, he never wanted to go back. He hadn’t even thought about Sam at all since he left her that final voicemail, and he hated the fact that you must think that he still loves her. 

But that couldn’t be further from the truth. 

The only part of her that he loves is the one he shares with her. The one that brought you and him together. His son; someone who he doesn’t even consider hers anymore. 

Joey isn’t Sam’s. He never was. She brought him into the world, and then she abandoned him. No mother does that to their child. 

As far as Clay was concerned, Joey was all his. 

He throws the pieces of the picture into the garbage bin beside the dresser before looking around for his phone. He finds it on his nightstand next to his alarm clock with your sticky note on it, and his heart ached even more. 

Without wasting a second, he picks his phone up and calls you. He sits down on his messy bed and tugs at his equally messy hair as it rings and rings, and he knows you probably won’t answer him for at least a few hours.

You were upset, and rightfully so. 

“Y/n, I’m sorry,” he started when he was met with your voicemail, and he would’ve laughed at the fact that he is leaving someone else another pointless voicemail, but you weren’t just someone, and nothing was pointless when it came to you. “I didn’t realize I still had pictures with her around, and I hate that you found that. I swear, I would’ve never told you to grab some of my clothes if I remembered that it was in there. It wouldn’t even be in there anymore.”

He felt stupid calling you like this, but he needed you to know as soon as possible that he was over Sam and that she was no longer in the picture. 

“Sam doesn’t mean anything to me. All she is…she’s just the person who helped bring my son into the world. That’s it,” he was rambling now and felt his chest tighten. It hurt a bit, and it felt like he was straining his heart, so he knew he needed to end the call and calm himself down. “I’m sorry. Please, call me back.”

He hung up after that and tossed his phone onto the bed before sitting down and running his hands through his hair. 

How did he always manage to fuck things up? It was going great, you trusted him enough to let him pick you up after a night out, and your second date was a mere few minutes away from happening when you left in tears. Ones that he caused, more or less. 

-

You were embarrassed as you turned off your phone, declining Clay’s second call to you since you left his house crying.

Sam was stunning, and now that you knew what she looked like, you could see the similarities her and Joey share. 

You felt like an idiot and you were humiliated and feeling so insecure right now. A million doubts ran through your head and left it hurting, and your unrelenting tears definitely didn’t help. 

Once you were home, you completely shut yourself off from everything and tried to focus on preparing for your first shift at Jess’ cafe. You wanted to check your phone and even wanted to see what Clay had said in his texts, but you also needed some time away from all that.

So you didn’t turn your phone on for the rest of the night, and by the time you entered Jess’ the next day, you still hadn’t powered it on. You didn’t have much time to use your phone as Jess would be starting your training any minute now, but you still didn’t want to completely cut Clay off. You decided that much after a whole day had passed. 

You turn your phone on and click on his contact, but before you could read one of the four texts he sent you, Jess calls your name, and you have to put your phone away and begin training. 

Around an hour passes before Jess allows you to continue your shift without her hovering over your shoulder. You had just taken your first order when your new coworker moved to get started on it. “Oh, you don’t have to do it for me,” you wave him off. “How am I supposed to learn if I don’t actually make the drinks?”

He just shakes his head with a grin, “The guy you took the order from is a regular,” he says. “Trust me; it’s best if I make his drink. If you mess it up even a little bit, he’ll ruin your whole day.”

“Okay,” you laugh and decide to let him take this one as you begin to wipe away the messy counter. “Good looking out.”

He smiled over at you as he made the drink and gave it to the guy you took the order from, his glare turning into a content smile as he sipped on it. “See? Told you,” he mumbled and you just shook your head, setting the cloth aside and beginning to change the coffee filters. “I’m Miles, by the way.”

You look over and see that he held his hand out to you. “Y/n,” you say and shake his hand. “I’m new, clearly.”

“I can see that,” he nodded and braced his elbows against the counter. “You new to the city, too?”

“Um, kind of,” you answer and wipe your hands on your brown apron. “I’ve been here for about a month now. Still getting used to all of it.”

Miles nods in understanding, giving you a boyish smile afterwards. He was cute, but not nearly cute enough to get your mind off Clay. Miles looked to be around your age, or maybe a bit older, and he had dark brown hair that covered his forehead, and from what you could tell, his eyes were a deep green. “Yeah, the city isn’t for everyone,”

You furrow your brows then laugh. “Oh, no, I’m not…I love it here so far,” you further explain. “It is a lot to take in, though.”

“Ah,” he nodded again and gestured to the customer on his side of the counter, politely pausing your conversation as he began taking the girl’s order.

You smile at him and turn to your side, and your breath gets caught in your throat when you meet Clay’s pretty blue eyes as he enters the shop. He briefly smiles but it falters as he nears the counter, guilt swimming in his gaze as he places his hands against the marble. “Hi,”

“Hi,” you whisper back and try to distract yourself by cleaning a nearby mug. An awkward silence fell over the two of you, and you hated every second of it. It was never awkward with Clay, and the sudden change had your face heating up as you avoided eye contact with him. “Um, do you want a coffee? Or a pastry?”

Clay sucked in a breath and shook his head. “No, I just,” he trailed off and you hesitantly met his eyes again. “I wanted to see you. Wish you luck, you know, on your first shift.” 

He was dressed in what you think is his work attire - though it looked just as formal as his usual clothing - and your heart swelled a bit at the fact that he stopped by before work so he could talk to you, even though it was a bit out of the way from what you knew about where his job location is. 

“Oh,” you say quietly and want nothing more than to throw your arms around him and kiss him right then and there. He was so sweet, you hated how tense things were between you right now. “That’s…nice, Clay. Thank you.” 

Clay smiled at you but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. You wondered if he felt as miserable as you did, then you remembered you hadn’t actually read his texts, so you really had no idea on how he was feeling right now. “Yeah,” he murmured and his eyes held so much longing, you felt your own burn a bit. It looked like he wanted to ask you something, but he didn’t and instead said, “I don’t know if you read my messages or listened to my voicemail, but…I’m sorry about yesterday. If I had known…”

You tear your eyes away from his and bite down on your lip. “Yeah, I um…haven’t gotten around to checking my phone,” you confess and grip onto the edge of the counter as you feel your face begin to heat up. Glancing to your right, you can see Miles eyeing the two of you with a poorly hidden look of judgment on his face, and you could only hope he didn’t bring this up later.

Clay stayed silent and nodded. “Oh,” he said quietly and it somehow made you feel even worse. “That’s okay. Just, whenever you get the chance…I miss you.” 

You bite down harder until you were sure you were about to make your lip bleed before looking up at him. You wanted to say it back, but you were still hurt and a bit stubborn and your emotions were a mess right now. “Do you need me to watch Joey later?” 

His face falls a bit and he steps away from the counter. “Yeah, if you’re able to. If not I can call my-”

“No, I can,” you say quickly and give him a tight smile. “I’ll see you later then.”

Clay swallows hard and nods, giving you a so clearly forced smile and making your heart ache even more. “See you later,” he rasped and turned around, leaving the shop without another glance at you.

As soon as he was gone, you blew out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and turned your back to the rest of the shop as you pulled out your phone. It was nearly dead as you didn’t bother plugging it in last night, and you were seriously regretting that now as you finally allowed yourself to read Clay’s messages. 

8:09 AM

Clay Beresford: I’m so sorry you found that, I swear I didn’t know I still had pictures of her and I around.

8:43 AM

Clay Beresford: Sam is not in our lives anymore, I promise. I care about you so much, and so does Joey. Please call me back.

1:19 PM

Clay Beresford: I understand that you need time, and I’ll give you as much as you need. Just know that she means nothing to me anymore, and she hasn’t for a long time now. 

9:21 PM

Clay Beresford: Joey missed you today, we both did. I know you have your first shift as Jess’ tomorrow, but are you still able to pick him up from school after? I’m sorry again, Y/n. I never wanted to hurt you. 

He’d been trying to apologize and explain ever since you left. 

You felt your eyes sting again, and you brought your phone up to your ear after clicking on the voicemail. “Everything okay?” Miles asks as he hands a freshly made drink to a girl. His voice sounded a bit humorous, and you furrowed your brows at it but couldn’t call him out on it before Clay’s frantic voice met your ear.

Your lip was hurting now as you had gone back to biting it while you listened to his voicemail, and by the time it was over, you were sure you could taste a hint of metal on your tongue. “Fuck,” you whispered as you typed out a text to him with shaky fingers. 

Miles coughed loudly next to you, and you lifted your gaze and glared at him. “I take it you and that rich guy are close?” He laughed and leaned against the counter with his arms crossed. “Or maybe you were but not anymore. He looked like a kicked puppy walking out of here, poor guy. But he’s not poor, right? He looks like he probably owns his own business or something.”

“Shut up,” you say before you could think it through. Your eyes widened and you opened your mouth to quickly apologize, but Miles just scoffs. 

“Oh, come on. A guy like that has no business coming into a place like this. I bet he could buy this whole street if he wanted to, then he’d own us,” Miles continued and you forget your task of texting Clay back in order to defend him from your coworkers petty assumptions. 

“And what if he could? What if he did? What would you do about it, Miles?” You ask with annoyance lacing your tone. You weren’t sure why he felt the need to assume all this stuff about Clay when he had no idea what he was actually like. 

“I’d quit,” Miles answered with a shrug. “I don’t need some rich prick holding anything above my head.”

You drop your phone onto the counter loudly and move towards him. “Shut the hell up,” 

Miles laughs again and it only irritates you further. “Make me,” he muttered. “Christ, Y/n, you don’t believe guys like that actually care about people like us, do you?”

“People like us?” 

“Yeah,” he grunted. “Poor people. We don’t need the rich pitying us when they have it all at their-”

“Shut up,” you nearly yell and then realize you were literally in the middle of your first shift and getting into a heated argument with your new coworker you only shared one brief conversation with before this. The patrons looked over at you with wide eyes and quiet laughs, and you felt embarrassed for the second time this week. 

You couldn’t say anything else, and neither could Miles, as Jess came in from the back room and glared at the two of you. “What is going on?” 

Miles just raised his hands and turned back to another customer. “You hired a spaz, Jess,” 

You opened your mouth to give him a witty remark, but Jess reached out and grabbed your wrist. “Hey,” she said and pulled you with her into the storage room. “What’s going on? You were doing great when I left you, and now I find you yelling at my best worker?”

You let out a surprised laugh, “He’s your best?” Jess raises a brow at you and you sigh before looking down at the floor. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” she said, slightly frustrated as she crossed her arms. “Just tell me what happened. Why were you and Miles arguing?” 

You huff and meet her gaze. “You know that boyfriend I told you about at that bar? Well, him and I got into a fight or…something, and he came into the shop today and apologized and I stupidly pushed him away and I guess Miles decided he should assume all these things about him and I couldn’t just stand there and take it,” you explained as plainly as you could, not wanting your boss to completely know what’s been going on in your personal life. “I know it’s a dumb reason, but I couldn’t help it. I’m sorry, Jess, I promise I’m not like that all the time. I just got mad.”

Jess pursed her lips and nodded, her hard gaze dropping a bit. “So I missed seeing just how cute your boyfriend supposedly is?” She teased, lightening the mood and making you huff out a quiet laugh. 

“He’s very cute,” you repeated your words from a couple nights ago, and you were reminded of the way Clay came out and picked you up before taking you back to his house and taking care of you. “Things are messy right now, and I’m sorry I allowed it to be brought into my work life. What happened with Miles won’t happen again.” 

You shifted the conversation back to a more serious one, and you could tell Jess appreciated it by the way she smiled and nodded at you. “You better not,” she said sternly. “Because I like you, Y/n, and I want you to have a real chance here. Okay?”

Nodding quickly, straighten yourself out. “Okay,”

“Good, now get back out there,”

A few hours later, you successfully made it through your first shift and were currently listening to Joey ramble on about what he did at school in the backseat of Rick’s car. 

You were nearly back to Clay’s place when Joey shifted and tugged at his backpack from its place on the floor. You reach over and help him, and once he grabs a piece of paper from it, you let it gently drop back down as Joey leans against the seat again. “I made this today,” he said and held the paper out to you. 

Taking it from him, you’re once again almost in tears as you look at the drawing. Joey was getting better at drawing and coloring with each passing day, and his attention to detail at his young age was extremely impressive. This drawing was of you, Clay and Joey, with you being in the middle this time and the Beresford boys on either side of you. “Wow,” you say quietly, meeting Rick’s gaze in the rear view mirror. “You’re quite the little artist, huh, babe?”

Rick gave you a knowing look as Joey said, “Daddy and I like it when you’re at our house. You make things better,”

And then you were on the verge of tears for the second time today.

-

@evilnight07 @espinathena-17

#hayden christensen #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen edit #hayden christensen gif #anakin skywalker #hayden christensen icons #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x reader #clayton beresford imagines #clay beresford imagines #clay beresford x reader #clayton beresford x reader #clayton beresford #awake 2007 #awake #clay beresford #in the way i need you #in the way i need you series

[bobbile-blog]

Not sure if anyone’s said this yet but now that we have Laterano events plural I’m fascinated by their (imo) very deliberate choice of protagonists, and there are almost a couple of layers of narrative going on there. I struggle a little figuring out how to get this into words but specifically I think they’re chosen to be people who can carry a narrative without contradicting the orthodox morals of the church. There’s a LOT of vaguely anti-authoritarian rambling below the cut so please kindly bear with me and my English major brain.

I can’t really start there though. One of the reasons this is so brain hurty is how deeply it’s woven into the storyline, so to start, I have to verbalize how Laterano and Arknights writing more generally is different from other, similar settings. Because like, I hear the words “morally negative church in a grimdark setting” and my brain immediately shuts off. Come on, that’s so far beyond low-hanging fruit, if you’ve seen any grimdark setting ever you know exactly what that looks like. And sure, it was fine the first two or three times you saw it, depending on your tolerance for that kinda thing, but it gets boring quick and even when it was new it was kinda uninteresting story-wise. “Religion is always fake because it inspires hope which means everyone who takes meaning from it is either a corrupt grifter or naive and misled” isn’t just edgy nonsense, it’s also basically useless as an actual critique. It tells you absolutely nothing except how to tune out a particular kind of story, and a story that tries to get you to hear less is doing its job wrong.

So, Arknights does something different. Instead of denying the premise of the church entirely, it actually takes it at its word. Laterano is, in almost every definition of the word, a paradise. It is basically unmatched in terms of actual quality of life, with its only competitors being the Durin cities and maybe Aegir, and is worlds apart from now much the rest of Terra sucks. More than that, though, the paradise is specifically tailored to the worldview of a religion with a strong central authority - when I say it takes it at its word, I mean the authoritarian bits too. Laterano is a city that lives in perfect order and peace because everyone follows the law perfectly and they all understand each other and never fight. Empathy is really important for this, as it allows for a believable amount of superhuman societal order. Laterano has very little crime, political drama, or quarrels in general. It’s the promises of a strict higher authority actually taken at face value: everyone follows the rules and that means they have effectively unfettered freedom, because they don’t want to break the rules and therefore they can do anything they want.

Laterano is specifically written to be a believable paradise in a setting that has none, so that when the story then turns around and criticizes that setting, it has significantly more weight. Even when the promises of paradise are taken at face value, there are still issues that cannot be addressed because the system is inherently flawed even in the imaginary scenario where it works. Even worse, the problems that poke holes in the imaginary perfect scenario are the same problems that they face in the real world, like “how do you deal with the interpretation of scriptures” and “hey there’s this racism thing I keep hearing about should we be worried about that or what”. Because of the way this imaginary perfect system works, we then look back on our real world in a new light and understand it a little better. It’s good critique.

Okay so how did we get here and what does this have to do with the protagonists? Well, this starts with Fiametta in Guide Ahead, because she’s a really weird protagonist. This is a cold take at this point but despite being the character on the front of the box, she has very little to actually do with the central conflict of the event. Most of the conflict is handled by Ezell first and Andoain second, and Fiametta mostly putters around putting holes in people until the finale where Andoain receives the answer he’s been looking for, he turns to explain it to the world, and he runs into the only person in the whole of Laterano who does not care about his motivations or his revelation. Her role, in other words, is to replace the climax of Andoain’s story with her own, and in doing so she makes it much harder to actually get a resolution and a meaning out of the story (this should not be taken as a criticism of her character, let me cook). Guide Ahead’s ending is hazy, with only small piecemeal resolutions to its conflicts, and for the longest time that was just the way the event was written and it stood on its own.

But now, Hortus de Escapismo is out and the monkey brain see patterns. Specifically, with the choice of protagonists. Because Executor is definitely different from Fiametta as a protagonist, but there’s one particularly important connection between the two, and that’s that as I mentioned in the beginning, they allow for stories don’t contradict orthodox morality. Fiametta we went over, as she’s uninterested in any of Andoain’s morality and just wants him dead. Executor, though, is purely focused on his mission and views the world through that lens. He only wants to achieve his objective, and while helping the needy is in line with the stated objectives of the church and he does do so when able, it’s secondary to his assigned task. He does change as he gets further into the story, and we’re not gonna ignore that, but we’ll be back to it later. What I mean is more that he is designed as a person who is able to lead a story that doesn’t contradict with the morals of Laterano. He sees the injustice and suffering around him, but that’s not his job, so he doesn’t need to solve it to have a complete story with a happy ending.

This is where it really gets complicated, so I apologize if I don’t explain this very well. I see this as us dealing with multiple layers of fiction: the events of the story, the perspective of the church, and our perspective as readers. Back to the first point - authoritarian institutions almost always use stories to sell people on their brand of order. Simple stories, simple enough that even calling them myths seems like overselling it a little, your “Saint George slays a dragon” kinda thing. This is the point of the second layer, the perspective of the church. I don’t really have an in-world justification for this layer - maybe you could make the argument that it has to do with Law’s perspective on things, but I don’t totally buy that - I think it’s more in a weird narrative transition space for people who don’t read very carefully. Regardless, Fiametta and Executor’s shared indifference to the questionable circumstances surrounding them is designed to let them tell a story to prop up the existing order. Their protagonist status and their missions are specifically constructed to allow them to ignore the suffering around them, and as such ignore the larger questions that might poke holes in the larger order. They’re both playing out the story of Saint George, where they go and find a bad guy and kill them and that’s all there is to it. The story is designed and told specifically for that “that’s all there is to it”.

But, as we said earlier, this is a good critique, and as such it intentionally undercuts this story with the third layer: what we actually see as readers. We are shown the suffering and the injustice, and then get to see our protagonists ignoring that to pursue their goals. This is what gives Guide Ahead’s ending its unique texture, which sets it apart from every other event with a vaguely unresolved ending. We have seen the actual issues with Laterano, and also watched our protagonist explicitly ignore them in favor of her own story. It’s unsatisfying in a way that only really makes sense to me if we as the readers have an understanding of intentional authorship. Whether it be Yvangelista XI or Law or The Actual Real Life Pope, there are issues here that we want to see a resolution to but people are choosing not to address them. Again, it’s good critique. Not only does it push the reader to unpack and understand the actual real-world technique, but it also helps blunt it. You have just seen a plot and protagonist ring uncharacteristically hollow. You then look around to see why that is, and you realize there are many things that should have been resolved that weren’t. The next time you see a story resolve with that same hollow-ness, you know where to look. Surprise! Harry Potter was propaganda the whole time. It’s okay, it was never good, you were just twelve.

I guess the last thing is where we go from here, because Executor’s story breaks this mold somewhat. In Hortus de Escapismo, he has to deal with a mission that isn’t actually bounded by his normal rules, and because of that he actually does have leeway to help the people around him. He starts as someone who is totally mission-focused, but by the end of the event he’s done a total 180 and is blocking Oren’s attack, which makes the mission harder but helps the non-mission-critical civilians of the monastery. He breaks from the rigid thinking of “kill the bad guy and that’s all there is do it”, and gives his attention to the people he isn’t supposed to see. I think this is an indication of the direction we’re going to be headed in the future with Laterano events. The events aren’t going to get better - they’re going to keep being just as morally murky and complicated as in the past - but the characters are going to get better at handling it, and when they do, they’re going to actually start to change things for the better.

Goddamn that was a lot of writing for 1 AM. I still have a. Lot of thoughts on this event with stuff like empathy and Lemuen and Federico being an autistic icon(my beloved) but I’m going to leave things there, I think, because if I write for any longer my phone is going to crash when I try to post this. Anyway if you actually made it to the end thanks for listening to me rambling and I hope that made sense. Cheers.

#arknights #arknights thoughts #hortus de escapismo #laterano #fiametta #executor arknights #I deadass had to ask folks to proofread this one #to make sure I didn’t sound like I didn’t sound off my rocker #also don’t mind my random Harry Potter slander that’s an entirely different rant

[kritzel]

Adams Past Thoughts

(English isn't my first language so sorry if I make mistakes)

After finishing HH I got to thinking, was Adam always the way that we see him in the show.

Because he, Lilith and Eve were created without original sin. So it wouldn't make sense for him to be a complete idiot from the beginning.

Here's what I think could be a possibility on what happened (after all we don't know how biased Lilith's book is):

First he and Lilith are created

Maybe he didn't really boss her around and it was more like a situation of a sibling telling the other sibling what to do (I know they where married but it's the only example I could think of)

"Just because you're older doesn't mean you can tell me what to do" kinda way (since Adam probably was made first)

But it was not supposed to be an order from Adam more like a suggestion

So Lilith walks of and meets Lucifer

Heaven realises Lilith won't work as a wife and they create Eve from Adam

Eve is a lot more naive than Lilith

Adam is explicitly told to look after her and make sure she is alright

He does just that and they both are happy together

Lucifer and Lilith create the fruit

And in a rare moment where Eve isn't with Adam she finds the tree

Eve eats the fruit

She gives it to Adam

He eats it too because he loves Eve and doesn't want her to endure the punishment alone

Everything goes downhill from here

I believe they were not really capable of feeling negative emotions before they ate the fruit

Eve being the first to eat it develops a lot of doubts towards Adam

Why wasn't he looking after me? That's what he was supposed to do now we are stuck in a world filled with danger and death

Adam ,who before the fruit didn't care about Lilith leaving him, was now starting to yearn for the woman he never had. She was supposed to be his and now she is with the most hated being of all creation.

They never really expressed the thoughts they had after eating the fruit with eachother

Resentment started building up without them really noticing

They still held love for eachother and tried to survive in a world full of danger

It went alright in the beginning

They had two kids

Everything seemed to look up

But of course Cane kills Abel

And that was the last nail in the coffin

Adam and Eve could not cope with the loss of both their sons (let's pretend Seth never becomes a person in this story)

They still tried to stay together

But the resentment grows bigger

Love turns into hate and a lot of hurtful things are said between them

They separate and go there different ways

And lets pretend Eve really did have something with Lucifer

As soon as Adam hears about that his hate for Lucifer and Eve just grows bigger

What is wrong with these women? What is it about this Lucifer?

He develops a lot of doubts about himself in his living life. Which causes him to develop the fear of being left by anyone who he lets into his life.

After he died he hears all about how great he is being the first man and all

And over the years he starts believing that he can do no wrong and it was only his wife's and Lucifers fault that everything went to shit

And even though deep down he wants a meaningful relationship he opted to just go for hook ups in fear of losing someone again

And after a few thousand years those things develop into the kind of person we see in the show

But this is just one possibility

I hope it is understandable what I'm trying to convey

Please share your thoughts with me.

What do you think happened all these years ago?

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lilith #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel eve #hazbin hotel theory #adam and eve #adam x reader

[m1ckeyb3rry]

── THE GLASS PRINCESS // SIXTEEN

Series Synopsis: You wake up in a strange room with no memories, broken glass at your bedside, and a prince named Zuko as your only chance at figuring out who you really are.

Chapter Synopsis: You wake up to a palace conquered.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Zuko x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 7.2k

Content Warnings: complicated relationships (strangers to friends to lovers to enemies to strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers), amnesia, alternate universe, lots of secrets and lying and mystery

A/N: the last ba sing se arc chapter 😭😔😩 sorry if this wasn’t what you guys were hoping for but believe it or not this has been the plan from the start 😫

“Now, remember, Y/N,” Quynh said as you glared at the crystal you held in your palm. “Bending crystals is not entirely separate from bending normal rocks. The only difference is that crystals are slippery, slick-surfaced and unwilling to conform. Rocks, like the ones you’ve bent by accident, are malleable. They are agreeable to having their shapes changed. Stones can be bullied; crystals must be coaxed.”

“How am I supposed to coax an inanimate object?” you said, willing the crystal to change into something, anything. You were unsuccessful, though, as it stayed just out of your reach, stubbornly refusing to follow your directives.

“You must abide by the laws of this world,” she said. “Of which there are relatively few. But remember this, Y/N: it will always be more fitting for you to work with something than against it.”

You tried to implement her advice. Instead of envisioning a new crystal in your hand, you pictured each step that the current one would have to take to reach that next form. Then, without thinking of the final product, you bent the crystal to the form which immediately followed its current iteration, and then the form after that, continuing the pattern until you had turned the uncut gem into a glimmering, faceted diamond.

“I did it!” you said.

“Excellent job,” she said. “Do you see? Stones and rocks and dirt are the easy way out, the way which allows for taking shortcuts. With crystals and glass, you can never skip steps. You can speed up your moves until it seems like you are skipping steps, but you never actually can.”

“I do see,” you said. “No wonder most people avoid these more refined materials.”

“If you can become a master with even such delicate things, then nothing bar your own mental fortitude will stop you from true bending prowess,” Quynh said.

“Mental fortitude?” you said.

“Do you think of yourself as an Earthbender?” she said.

If you wanted Kuei to live, then there could only be one answer to this question. “No.”

“Then so it will be,” she said.

From that day onwards, you internalized it, internalized the thought that you could not bend anything but jewels and glass. Eventually, it became a truth of your existence, until your entire identity was built upon your Glassbending, until you could barely even be considered an Earthbender at all.

A week after Aang, Katara, Toph, and Sokka left, you awoke to the sound of screams in the hallway. You shot out of your bed, glancing out the window and affirming that it was still night; when you saw that it was, you wondered what could possibly be the cause of the commotion. It was only when you smelled burning did you realize that something terrible was happening.

Scattered through the kingdom as the army was, it had been impossible for you to consolidate a true force to defend the palace in time, and as most of the soldiers who typically served as your guards had been injured when Aang and his friends had stormed the palace, you had had no choice but to rely on the Dai Li for protection.

There was no doubting that the Dai Li were talented benders, of course, but their primary purpose was never to guard. They were meant to be stealthy enforcers, and entrusting them with the responsibility of protecting the palace had been foolish. A naive decision, based on Prince Zuko’s obsession with the Avatar, which you had so childishly thought meant you were safe from his attentions.

The acrid stench of smoke stung your nose and throat as you shoved on a pair of slippers, all the while cursing the luck which led to you only ever facing these kinds of threats in your nightclothes. The moon was high in the sky, watching you through your window as you rushed about the room, locking the door and then making your way towards your dressing room. If you could reach Quynh’s Den, then you could escape to Ba Sing Se, and from there…

No. If this was what you thought it was, then they would likely execute Kuei, so that they could take over the kingdom unchallenged. Escaping alone was not only the coward’s way, it was the route a fool would take; the best course of action was for you to meet with your brother and usher him to safety first. No matter what, the Earth King had to live. He had to survive. As long as he did, there was hope for the nation.

There was a knock on your door. You stopped moving immediately, waiting and listening, trying to discern who it might be.

“Princess, it’s us. The Dai Li,” said a gruff, masculine voice that you vaguely remembered to have heard before. Your shoulders sagged in relief. So they hadn’t been overwhelmed completely! There was still a chance. One ally was better than none, and for this agent to be knocking on your door so casually, he was likely not alone. Perhaps things were not as dire as they seemed from in your chambers. Relaxing, you ran over to unlock the door.

“Thank goodness,” you said. “I was so frightened that — that something had happened to you all. What’s the situation?”

“The situation?” the Dai Li agent said. Before you could move, he had Earthbent bindings around your wrists, forcing them behind your back. The rock cuffs were rough, digging into your skin and shredding it open, instead of smooth like they typically were, and he patted you on the shoulder when you yelped in surprise. “The situation is that you killed our Captain Chhay and threw our leader Long Feng into jail. Did you really think that you could still hold a claim to our loyalty after that?”

“I don’t understand,” you said. “You’re sworn to the Earth King!”

“We were,” another agent said, shoving you forwards. “And now, we’re not. The Earth King’s time is over, Princess Y/N, and so is yours.”

“You’re betraying the kingdom?” you said. “For what? For who?”

“The Fire Nation,” the agent who had cuffed you said. “They offered us something far more appealing than the short leash you wrapped around our necks — power. The power to run Ba Sing Se in the way we desire to. In the way it deserves to be.”

“The Fire Nation,” you breathed, stumbling as your head spun at the confirmation of your worst fears. The agent pushing on your back used a stone to prod at your spine for the brief slip. “They’re here?”

“That’s right,” the agent said. “And they’re most interested in meeting you. Aren’t you ever so flattered?”

“How could you do this?” you said instead of responding. “You’ve allied with the very nation trying to take over yours.”

“Didn’t you hear what we were saying? It’s more profitable for us to work with them than against them, and anyways, didn’t Long Feng warn you that you’d regret spurning him? This is that regret. Your final moments will be spent watching your kingdom crumble in the coup orchestrated by the man who once had nothing but your best interests in mind, and then you will be executed by the prince so that he can legitimize his claim on the throne,” he said with a shrug.

For some reason, though he had said so much, you could only focus on one particular detail: executed. The prince. Lee, or Prince Zuko, or whoever he was…he meant to execute you. He meant to kill you with his own hands. The person you had loved so much that you had allowed him entry to the palace was betraying you like this. He was going to execute you, and all for a throne, for the jurisdiction of a kingdom that would never accept him as their own.

You rounded the corner to a long hallway that housed the tapestries of your ancestors, the many faces which made up your bloodline. Your father’s likeness was there, hanging between your grandfather’s and Kuei’s, smiling down benevolently at his onlookers, his eyes sparkling even through the static image.

You had always loved staring at that tapestry in particular. Sometimes, looking up at it was enough for you to recall, dimly, memories of a man you had never met. Perhaps they were more aptly considered fantasies, ones of growing up while he was alive, sitting in his lap as he read you stories, wobbling after him as you learnt to walk and showing him the glass sculptures you made with your bending.

This time, too, you stared at him as you walked past, though the only thing you could think of was that you were going to face the same fate that he had. No matter that you had tried to escape it. No matter that you had run from the assassination attempts in Ba Sing Se. No matter that you had killed Captain Chhay in your chambers. No matter that you had exposed Long Feng’s treachery to Kuei. It was your destiny to be crossed. Just as your father had been murdered by someone who ought to have been loyal to him, you, too, would be destroyed by a person who you could not help but love.

Kuei was already in the throne room, kneeling on the ground, his head held down by the Dai Li agent who had replaced Chhay as the Captain. The new Captain grinned when he saw you, and then he jerked his head towards the spot beside Kuei.

The two agents escorting you pressed on your shoulders until you, too, knelt, though you did not bow your head, nor were you asked to. Subjugating a princess did not have the same gravitas as subjugating a king, after all.

“You,” you snarled when you saw who was positioned in front of the throne, in the same place that Long Feng used to always occupy. It was the same now. You could never stand up there with the rest of them. Regardless of who it was, you would always, always be below them.

“Y/N,” he said softly. “I — I know that you’re probably confused, but—”

“I’m not confused at all,” you said. “I know exactly who you are, Prince Zuko.”

His eyes widened, like he had not been expecting that, like he had expected a different reaction. “You do? How?”

“How does it matter? you said.

“Actually, I’d like to know, as well,” Kuei said from where his eyes were still trained on the carpet. “Are the two of you acquainted or something?”

“No,” you said.

“Yes,” Prince Zuko said at the same time.

“I don’t know you,” you said. “I knew a different person. A better one. He would never have done this to me.”

“You don’t understand,” Prince Zuko said. “I have to!”

“Says who?” you said.

“My father!” he said. “This is all I have left to do. I just have to hold the Earth Kingdom while my sister hunts down the Avatar, and then…and then I can go home.”

Your mind struggled to reconcile the two versions of him you were presented with. Was this the same boy you had argued about books with over tea? The same boy who had donned a mask and saved you from Captain Chhay’s attacks? The same boy who had always protected you without question? It could not be. That boy would never look down his nose at you the way Prince Zuko was now. That boy would never order your arrest the way Prince Zuko had. He would never make you kneel at his feet.

But he must’ve been the same person. There was only one reason you could say that with certainty: he was here, in the palace. He had found Quynh’s Door, which meant you loved him. That meant that Zuko and Lee and the Blue Spirit really were three aliases for one horrible, twisted being.

“Get on with it, then,” you said. “Kill me. Kill my brother.”

“Or don’t!” Kuei shrieked, shrinking away from the Captain’s touch.

“That’s your plan, isn’t it? You’re going to execute us so that nobody dares to dream of rebelling against the Fire Nation occupation. Without Kuei or his heir around, your coup will go uncontested. I know you know that already, so why are you procrastinating? You have us surrounded by Dai Li and Fire Nation soldiers alike, so get on with it,” you said.

You would get to see your parents. It was the only positive you could glean from the entire affair. If you were killed, then your mother, your father…you would get to see them.

“Do you want to do the honors yourself, your royal highness?” the Captain of the Dai Li said. You scowled. Your royal highness — he only ever should’ve called you that.

You had spent so long admiring the prince’s face that it was all but a habit at this point. Even now, you could not help yourself from slipping into it, gazing at him until your eyesight grew blurry from tears, your lip trembling from the strain of holding them back.

This was your fault. This was your fault. This was your fault. Your fault your fault your fault.

“You must think of me as a great fool,” you said. “To have fallen for your scheme so readily. I all but handed you the kingdom on a platter.”

“I don’t think that,” Prince Zuko said, swallowing, his expression softening for only a second before hardening immeasurably. “Look, can’t you just — just take her away? Put her in some jail cell or something! The king, too. We can deal with them later. For now, I don’t want to bother with them.”

“As you wish, sir,” the Captain said. “Do you want the Soldiers of Agni guarding her, or will it be alright if we use our own methods?”

“I don’t care,” Prince Zuko said. “Just as long as I don’t have to see her.”

Of course he didn’t. And why would he? He had never loved you. Everything had been a lie. He had been pretending. He just needed you to fall in love with him so that he could find Quynh’s Door. He just needed that foolproof method to enter the palace. Beyond that, what even were you to him? An irritation? A girl he despised? If you hadn’t told him that myth, would he ever have treated you as kindly as he had?

“We’ve been looking forward to this,” the Dai Li told you as you reached the royal crypt beneath the palace. “I don’t think the world’s ever hated a pair of royals as much as it hates the two of you.”

There was no point in fighting back, not when there were so many of them, so you could only shiver and squeeze your eyes shut as your back was pressed to Kuei’s. Stone rings encircled you two, tying you together to the point of near-asphyxiation.

“What are you doing?” Kuei wheezed. “What is the meaning of this?”

Please. Someone. Anyone. Father. Mother. Quynh. What is happening? Please help.

You were so cold, even though Kuei was so warm. You were freezing, in fact. You thought that you might die just from that.

Stone walls were erected around you, so close that it was as if you were standing in a coffin. There was the tiniest hole near the top to allow you to breathe, but other than that, there was nothing. You could not move even if you wanted to. You could barely see. For all intents and purposes, you had been buried alive.

“You wanted to be remembered as someone who loved his sister?” the Captain of the Dai Li said. “Let’s see how much you love her after this!”

“Let us go! I demand you let us go this instant!” Kuei screamed. “Hey! On my authority as the Earth King, I order you to free us! Free us, and you won’t be punished!”

“Good luck, Earth King,” another agent said. “I hope your meaningless title helps you in there.”

“No,” Kuei said. “No, get back here! Get back here, treasonous vermin!”

“Kuei,” you murmured once the Dai Li agents’ footsteps faded into the background and you were sure you were alone. “Calm down, brother. You are wasting your strength.”

“Calm down? What about this situation invites calm, sister? Do tell me!” he screeched.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “This is my fault. I know that, and I will do everything in my power to make it right.”

“Your fault? How can that be?” he said.

“I’m the one who let Prince Zuko into the palace,” you said, and then your silent tears turned into sniffles that grew into sobs. “Kuei, Kuei, it’s all my fault. Please hate me. Please abhor me, brother. It is my doing that has led to all of this.”

“How did you accomplish that?” he said, all annoyance vanished in favor of concern.

“Quynh’s Door,” you said. “Listen, I know you’ve never believed in her, but she’s real. She’s a spirit I’ve been visiting since my youth, and all of the stories about her are true, too.”

“But for him to have found Quynh’s Door means…” Kuei trailed off in horror.

“Yes,” you said. “I fell in love with him during the time I spent in Ba Sing Se. I am the world’s stupidest girl, and now the entire kingdom will pay for my error. You will pay for my error. It’s not fair. If anyone should be punished, it’s me.”

“There’s no point in assigning blame,” Kuei said. “We’re stuck here. They left us that hole so that we could breathe, but my guess is that it’s only to extend our suffering. They’ll wait until we’re weak and hungry and dehydrated, and then they’ll execute us.”

Was this the way things would end? Was there nothing left that you could do for your kingdom? Would you spend the rest of your life in this cage, leaving only at the moment you were to be executed by Prince Zuko?

“If only one of us was an Earthbender,” he groused. “Thanks a lot, mother! Father! Shan! What a load of good your bloodline did us!”

“What did you just say?” you said. He scoffed.

“What, religious piety wasn’t enough for you, so you’re taking up the filial sort now, too? Who cares if I’m being disrespectful? We’re going to die surrounded by our own element!” he said.

“Our own element…” you murmured. “Kuei. Stay very still.”

“There’s not much else I can do,” he said.

You remembered something Quynh had told you when you had first learnt to bend crystals. Stones can be bullied. Bullying was not in your nature, but what choice did you have? This was your own element. This was your birthright. You were not the princess of the Glass-and-Crystal Kingdom; you were Princess Y/N, of the Earth Kingdom.

Closing your eyes, you focused on the earthen walls around you, imploring them to recede, wheedling and cajoling them to back away so that you and Kuei could escape.

Nothing happened. You considered giving up, but if you gave up now, then it was as good as signing your own death order. Your own, and also Kuei’s. Taking a deep breath, you allowed only two sensations to wash over your body: the warmth of your brother’s back against yours, and the solidity of the ground under your feet.

You did not cajole or wheedle or implore anymore. There was no place for politeness or weakness. You had to command. You did not have to convince the stone — you had to demand it bow to your will.

There was the grating sound of rock-on-rock, and then the walls surrounding you and Kuei crumbled into nothingness. The stone restraints followed suit, and you heaved for breath, your muscles aching from the atypical exertion, though not unbearably.

“What just happened?” Kuei said. You slapped his arm.

“Keep it down. We have to escape,” you said.

“What just happened?” he repeated, though he was thankfully quieter this time.

“I’m an Earthbender,” you said casually, grabbing his hand and pulling him after you as you ran towards the exit of the crypt.

“You’re a what? Since when?” he said.

“Shh! Do you want to get caught or something?” you said. “And since birth, duh.”

“Forgive me for being confused,” he said sardonically. “It’s not as though you’ve appeared to be a nonbender for your entire life or anything! Oh, wait.”

You rolled your eyes. “Obviously, that was a lie. I kept it a secret from everyone.”

“Right, I picked up on that,” he said. “What I’m asking you is why? Why would you hide that? It would’ve been the kingdom’s greatest joy to finally have an Earthbender of Shan’s line again! It — it would’ve been my greatest joy, to know you could protect yourself!”

“They would’ve killed you!” you snapped, though you immediately swore when you realized you had been too loud. Looking around to make sure no one had heard you, you sighed in relief and continued to run. “Listen, I learned I could bend when I was a young girl. Around that time, I heard your advisors saying that, if I was proven to be an Earthbender, they’d kill you and instate me as a ruler instead. I couldn’t let it happen like that, okay?”

“Huh?” he said.

“You can’t die,” you said. “As long as I am there, as long as I have a say, you won’t die. It was within my power to hide my bending, so that’s what I did.”

“Y/N…you gave up such a large piece of your identity for me?” he said.

“Yes,” you said. “I’d give up more, too. You’re the only one I have left, Kuei, or maybe it’s that you’re the only one I’ve ever had. Anyways, I learnt my own version of the art from Quynh, so I’ve really not given up as much as you think I have.”

He twisted his hand so that he was holding yours instead of the other way around, and then he squeezed tightly. You knew that what he really wanted was to embrace you, but there was no time for that. Still, turning your face away from his, you smiled slightly at the acknowledgement.

“Thank you, sister. Knowing this, I feel terrible for saying this, but — but I have to. We can’t escape,” he said.

“What? Why not?” you said.

“They locked Bosco away in my chambers,” he said. “The last I heard, the Fire Lord is going to — he’s going to — it’s so unthinkable, I can barely bring myself to say it, but he’s going to eat him!”

“Uh, sorry?” you said. “Fire Lord Ozai wants to eat Bosco?”

“Yes, and I can’t let that happen! Unless you agree to help me rescue Bosco, I won’t go,” he said.

You almost argued with him, but then you thought about what he was saying, really thought about it, and you found yourself agreeing with him, though for a different reason. It wasn’t that you were attached to Bosco; rather, you saw Fire Lord Ozai’s intentions for what they truly were.

Bosco was a creature made in Quynh’s image, and even if the people of Ba Sing Se resented him for how much money Kuei had wasted on his upkeep, it was undeniable what the symbolism would be if Fire Lord Ozai consumed him. It would represent the Fire Nation’s destruction of Quynh and Shan and everything they stood for, and even though it put you and your brother in more danger, you could not allow that.

“Alright,” you said. “We’ll get him first.”

“Seriously?” he said.

“We were heading to my chambers, anyways. It’s not that much of a detour,” you said, ducking behind a pillar as a pair of Dai Li agents walked past you. Hidden away in the shadows as you were, you escaped their notice, but it had been a close enough call that your heart did not stop racing for many minutes.

“Why your chambers? The window is too high. Even with your Earthbending, it’s a suicidal method of escape,” he said.

“We’re not escaping through the window,” you said, taking advantage of the relatively clear coast to dart through the hallway and round the corner into the wing of the palace where the royal rooms were located. “There’s a door to Quynh’s Den that’s usually present in my dressing room. From there, we can reach the city and then gather allies to help us retake the palace before too much damage is done.”

“Quynh’s Den — so that’s how you kept escaping!” he said.

“Er, yes, I thought you’d have put that together by now,” you said as you reached Kuei’s rooms. There were soldiers milling about in front of the polished wood doors, but that was not the route you chose to take. Instead, you placed your palm on the wall and gritted your teeth, straining until the earth parted in an archway large enough for you to enter.

Bosco was restrained in the center of the room, a gag forced in his mouth so that he posed no threat to his nonexistent keepers. When he noticed you and Kuei, his ears pricked up, and he nudged Kuei happily in greeting as you untied the gag. Kuei held his fingers to his lips, and to his credit, Bosco followed the directive and remained silent all of the way until you reached your dressing room.

Thankfully, the door was there. Kuei was the one to open it, the glow of the crystals reflecting on his glasses eerily, his eyes shining as he stared down the passage.

“I’ve seen this before,” he breathed. “Maybe in a dream, or maybe not. But I know I have.”

“Good, then you’ll know the way,” you said. “Let’s get moving before we’re caught.”

“Quynh’s Den,” Kuei murmured, stepping into the passageway. “I can’t believe it’s real. I can’t believe I’m finally going to see it.”

You grinned at him. Only he could find some positive in these dire circumstances, and though some might claim it to be immature, you admired him for it, admired his unflinching optimism and unwavering faith and unquenchable curiosity.

For all of these years, you had been unfair to him. Quynh was right — he wasn’t a bad king. He was a good king; his flaw was that he was also a premature one, but you had confidence that with time, he would become the person that the kingdom needed.

For the final time, you gazed out at your undisturbed room, which was as peaceful as it always was. Just in that instant, it didn’t feel like there was a coup, like you and Kuei were fleeing for your lives. Just in that instant, it instead felt like you were going to visit Lee and Mushi in the tea shop for the night, like you always used to.

Right before you were about to follow after your brother, a thought crossed your mind. Pausing and then drawing back, you frowned, unable to shake the dread clawing up your throat.

“Kuei,” you said. “They came for you earlier, right?”

“Hm? Yes, they did,” he said, pausing in the middle of the passage, stopping Bosco as well. “Why? What’s wrong, Y/N?”

“The servants,” you said.

“Huh?” he said.

“The servants, brother, what did they do to the servants?” you said insistently. The ones who had kept your bath filled. The ones who swept your floors. The ones who made your bed. The ones who cooked your meals and maintained your gardens…what about them? Not all of them stayed at the palace overnight, but some did. Enough did.

Kuei scowled. “They’ve all been tied up in the kitchens. I don’t know why.”

You knew why. Maybe not exactly, but there were only a few possibilities: they would either torture the servants for information about the kingdom, they’d send them to the Fire Nation as prisoners, or they’d kill them en masse.

There wasn’t even a decision to make. What was a princess without a kingdom to rule, without subjects to love her? As well, it was your fault that they were in this danger to begin with.

“I have to go save them,” you said.

“Eh?” he said. “I must’ve misheard you.”

“You didn’t,” you said. “You go ahead, Kuei. You’re the king, so you have to make it out of here. I’ll rescue the servants, and then I’ll come too, okay? No, don’t argue. You can’t change my mind.”

He knew better than to even try when you had made such a declaration, so he only sighed.

“Where should we meet?” he said. “In Quynh’s Den?”

“No,” you said. “There’s a place in the Lower Ring known as the Firelight Fountain. If I do not catch up with you before you leave, then go there and wait for me.”

Kuei swallowed and then nodded at you. “Alright. I will see you there.”

“Yes,” you said. “I wish you luck, brother.”

“And I, you.”

With that, you turned your backs on one another, the door slamming shut as you tore off towards the kitchens and he continued towards Quynh’s Den.

The closer you got to the kitchens, the more guards you barely avoided, but somehow, you managed, and then you were in the darkened kitchens themselves, where the servants had been detained. There were so many of them that you knew you would have to take multiple trips or risk discovery, so picking a section at random, you began to untie the ropes around them.

“It’s me, Princess Y/N,” you repeated as you worked. “I’ve come to save you. Do exactly as I say, and you will live. Make a sound, and you will die.”

It was the most exhausting work of your life, equally as tedious as it was thrilling. The palace employed nearly a thousand servants, but thankfully there was nowhere near that number in the kitchens. Still, you must’ve freed close to a hundred people, doing away with the ropes and then sneaking them back to your room and instructing them to use one of Quynh’s doors to escape back to Ba Sing Se.

Finally, you were down to the final ten people. One of the boys was younger than the rest — he must’ve been new, the poor thing, and you were gentler with him than the others, wiping away his tears and hushing him kindly, taking your time to undo the knots which had rubbed away the skin of his wrists.

It was a mistake. What time did you have for kindness? You should’ve known better, but it was a pattern. You would always be kind. It would always get you in trouble.

“Princess Y/N! Look out!” the boy said as soon as you had removed the cloth stuffed in his mouth. It was the only warning you got; your eyes widened at it, and without even thinking, you dug in your pocket and smashed a statue of a dragon against the ground, bending the fragments as you turned, using half of them to dispel the licking flames that barely missed singing your clothes and sending the other half into the necks and eyes of the intruders.

They were Fire Nation, not Dai Li, and judging by their fancy uniforms, they were none other than the Soldiers of Agni, the most elite Firebenders outside of the royal family. You had no idea how Prince Zuko had managed to get them into Ba Sing Se, but of course, that was how your fortune had been going as of late, so you did not question it.

“Run!” you urged the others, clasping the boy’s hand with your own and taking off, motioning for everyone to follow you. “To my chambers! It won’t be long before more of them come for us.”

“Princess Y/N, you — you killed those men?” one of the older servants, a woman who you thought did the laundry, said.

“If I had not, then they would’ve killed me,” you said, breaking another one of the statues you had brought with you, using the knife-like edges to slice the throats of the Dai Li agents that you knew were stationed around the corner. There was no sense in hiding, not anymore; now, the goal was to make it to your room as fast as possible. “This is just what we have to do.”

“I didn’t realize you were capable of it, your royal highness,” one of the cooks said. “Or that you were concerned about us all enough to come back.”

“By what decree is my life worth more than anyone else’s?” you said. “My strength is yours, as yours is mine. I could never leave my people behind, not when I had a way to save them.”

The servants had never cared much for you before, had likely never even seen you before, but in the process of saving their lives, you believed that you might’ve earned something resembling their respect, too.

“I know that my brother and I were never popular as rulers,” you said as you reached your chambers, the door locking behind you as you made your way to your dressing room. “But I promise that we will change things. I will change things. I will put an end to the hardships that you all have endured for far too long.”

“Thank you, Princess Y/N,” a maid said. “I — I’m really grateful to you, your royal highness.”

“It is my duty,” you said. “Do not hesitate any longer; go through the door and follow the passageway until you reach the bear spirit, Quynh. She will help you escape to Ba Sing Se.”

“Quynh is real?” the small boy said, pressing into your side and peering up at you.

“She is,” you said. “I know, it sounds like I’m making things up, but it’s truly the case. Not only is she real, but she’s our only chance at escaping, so we must make haste.”

The remaining servants filed into the passageway, and you exhaled as all but the boy faded from sight. It didn’t matter now. Nothing mattered now. You had done it. You were safe.

There was a bang against the door. Another, and another. Fear shot through your veins as you realized that they were trying to break in. They had caught on to the fact that you were running to your room, though you had no idea what they thought they’d find when they smashed through.

“Come on,” you said, ushering the boy in and stepping in yourself, about to close the door behind you when there was a splintering sound, accompanied by the smell of smoke lacing the air. The Soldiers of Agni had arrived, and it was only a matter of seconds before they entered and found the door you had been using to escape.

Time passed differently in Quynh’s realm. Slower. You knew that. You had always known that, but until now you had not understood what it actually meant: you were doomed, and you had been from the start. They would find the door, and they would follow you, and they would catch you, and from there, they would kill you. That was how it was always meant to be. You had not saved anyone; you had only prolonged their misery.

It was your fault. It was your fault. It was your fault. With this mantra echoing in your head, you made a split-second decision. Crouching so that you were eye-level with the boy, you ruffled his hair.

“Listen, dear boy,” you said. “When you reach Quynh’s Den, I want you to tell Quynh to close this door, alright?”

“Why won’t you tell her?” he said, the smell of smoke intensifying even as you spoke.

“I’m not going,” you said. This was your atonement. This was the only thing you could do for your country, your people, your brother. This was the way you right the wrongs you had inadvertently wrought.

“What? What do you mean?” he said.

“There isn’t much time,” you said. “After you tell Quynh that, go to the Firelight Fountain in the Lower Ring and tell King Kuei to find the Avatar. Make sure he knows the message is from me…and that he knows I love him.”

“I won’t go unless I know you’re safe, princess,” the boy said obstinately, tugging on your sleeve. “Let’s go together and you can tell your brother these things yourself.”

You held the boy’s face in your hands and leaned forwards, kissing his forehead before straightening.

“Thank you for your concern, but when did I say that I was not escaping at all? I have another route,” you said.

“What other route?” he said.

Turning, you exited the passageway, looking over your shoulder at him and mustering as bright of a smile as you could, praying it was convincing enough.

“I’ll leave through the window,” you said. He was too young to know what that meant, and you did not give him the chance to think about it, slamming the door shut before he could respond and then reentering your chambers proper, right as the Soldiers of Agni broke through.

“Princess Y/N,” one of them said.

“Yes,” you said. “I would give you a proper welcome, a good one, but seeing as you have broken into my palace, I am not so inclined to. I swear I am a better host to those who are better guests.”

“Where is the Earth King? What about the rest of the servants?” another Soldier said.

“I don’t know,” you said, lying with an effortless ease, like you were swallowing honey and oil, using it to coat your every word with a smooth reliability. “Where indeed? You should’ve been keeping a closer eye on the gates.”

They moved in perfect formation, every step according to some unheard rhythm, their advancement a musical dance as they encroached upon you. You matched them like the partner to their sum total, backing away, closer and closer to your dresser of glass sculptures.

“We’re not supposed to harm you too terribly unless we’re absolutely forced to,” a Soldier said. “So how about you surrender and make things nice and easy?”

“Who would command you to not hurt your enemy?” you said.

“For some reason, Prince Zuko says it’s imperative that you remain uninjured,” he said. “Princess Azula told us to follow his orders while she chases the Avatar, so we’ll do as he commands for the time being.”

“Interesting,” you said, lip curling with distaste at the thought of Prince Zuko. “Unfortunately, I have no such holdbacks.”

The glass sculptures broke into thousands of little daggers, flying at the Soldiers of Agni faster than they could react. Thus began your final stand, the last thing you could do for the Earth Kingdom.

Glancing to the side, you saw that the door in your dressing room had not yet vanished. All you had to do was survive until it did. After that, it didn’t matter, but until that point, you could not die.

The Soldiers of Agni moved as one, creating a wall of fire to melt the glass, though a few made it past and gouged into them anyways. You were not deterred by the liquified state of your weapons; purposefully slowing your rapid breathing, you made a wave of burning, glowing glass surge towards them, scorching wherever it spattered, searing through armor and fabric and flesh alike.

Still, the door had not disappeared. The Soldiers of Agni sent coordinated bursts of fire at you, and this time you pulled the wave towards you. It rose up just in time, absorbing the heat of the fire meant for you, and then you condensed it before shooting it back towards them.

It was a push and pull, but they had the advantage. Better training. Better weapons. Their fire blazed at a higher temperature than any you had ever encountered, and eventually, your glass could not handle it, melting beyond the point of control, dripping through the floors and steaming into the air.

You were backed into a corner, but when you looked over at your dressing room, you could not help but smirk. The door was gone. Kuei was safe. Though you had been rendered defenseless, you had done your job. The Earth King would live.

Yet, defenseless though you were, there was a resolve brewing deep within you, too. Even if you could not win, you did not want the Soldiers of Agni to attain victory, either. You did not want them to succeed, to think that they had gotten one over you. If the only path forward was for you to die, then you wanted them to die, too.

“What will you do now, princess?” a Soldier said. You reached out with your bending and shattered the window, using the glass to cut away at their already-damaged flesh, holding your hands in front of you as they retaliated. Some used Firebending; others simply kicked the glass back, like they found amusement in your feeble struggles.

At Captain Chhay’s hands. At their hands. At Prince Zuko’s hands. No, none of these were ways that you were willing to suffer defeat. It would be on your own terms. Maybe you had run out of glass, but there was something else you had come to comprehend over the course of the night: the entire palace was a weapon, and you were the only one left who could wield it.

“The only thing I can do,” you said. “I am the Glass Princess, am I not? So, I will shatter, and you will be caught in the aftermath.”

You knew even as you slapped your palms against the walls that you would not survive this. If by some miracle the impact did not kill you immediately, then you would surely sustain such terrible injuries that you would not survive without treatment — treatment which would not be forthcoming, because no one knew where you were. No one knew what you were doing. In your final moments, now that everything had been said and done, you were alone.

Would your father and mother be proud of you? Would Quynh and Shan? You hoped Quynh would not grieve for very long. Even if she did not know how it had happened, you hoped she would see that it had been the only way, that you had been afraid, but notwithstanding, had done it bravely.

Because what was your life in comparison to Kuei’s? To the lives of your people? It was so little. It was the smallest price to pay. And, if you could take out all of the Soldiers of Agni in one fell swoop, then it was no loss at all.

You did not bully the stones of the palace. You did not need to; this palace, which had been built by your ancestor and upon Quynh’s Den, was your home, your birthright, and so the magic imbued in its construction jumped alive at the chance to help you. You only needed to think one thing for it to oblige, the room shaking and rumbling with a sound like mourning as the entire wing you were in collapsed — on you, yes, but also on the Soldiers of Agni, in an implosion that was not so different from embossing a window after all.

Palace, I command you to fall.

taglist (comment/send an ask/dm to be added): @rinisfruity14 @c4ttheart @blacky-rose @shizko @marsbars09 @happyplaidpersonfestival @catborglar @camilleverreault @nerdybouquetofkittens-blog @lovialy @heart4hees @stefnarda @ioonatv @vvicaddiction @yukihatesreoyo @yodayyy @ellzbellz18

#zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #zuko x you #zuko #avatar the last airbender #atla #reader insert #canon au #the glass princess #m1ckeyb3rry writes

[erros429]

there’s something so crazy about the way they’ve been building up ruby and blake parallels from the very start of their friendship. one of their first interactions arises because they’re both fans of books and fairytales, but they have wildly different perspectives of them. blake, who thinks that happily ever afters are naive, meets ruby, who thinks happily ever afters are the goal to strive for.

after this, though, we don’t get a lot of moments between them. however, the little moments we do get are packed with loads of meaning. whenever they’re in a difficult situation, blake looks to ruby to have a plan. she both supports ruby and looks to her for support (something that she didn’t have a lot of experience with with the last leader [cough, adam, cough] she followed).

“we’ll follow your lead, ruby.”

the biggest interactions that we see between them by far, however, is in volume 8. blake reflects about who she was before adam, and how she’d also been positive and hopeful like ruby (who now looks back on her own optimism with disgust). she even goes so far as to say that she’s admired that someone can hold onto that trait as long and as hard as ruby has.

“i know you don’t always know what to do, but that’s never stopped you from doing something. i was like that as a girl, but time — and a lot of other things — took their toll on me. then i wasn’t sure if that kind of girl could survive in the world. until i met you… i’ve always looked up to you ruby, and i still do.”

and now we've reached volume 9, where ruby's influence on blake has helped her find her old true self once again. at this point, it's established that blake and ruby are following the same sort of character arc, both determined to make the world a better place but both continuously beaten down and defeated until they no longer believes in themself. and now that blake managed to pull herself from the trenches of self-loathing, we'll be following ruby's own journey of doing so as well.

but that's why ruby's "shut up, don't do that." line to blake hits so fucking hard. because she hates facing the same thing that she'd said once upon a time. she hates facing her own naivety and her own attempts to salvage a situation.

she hates facing herself.

#rwby #rwby spoilers #ruby rose #blake belladonna #this episode gave me a lot of feelings #we need to talk about ladybug parallels #rwby analysis #erros doesnt know how to shut up #1k

[imagine-knowing-a-name]

i miss who i used to be

Summary: In the aftermath of Ultron, two Sokovians find themselves contemplating their pasts and their loneliness in the present. When their paths cross again, they might just find comfort in one another's company.

Word Count: 1379 Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader Warnings: grief/loneliness/a lot of reflection on topics of that nature A/N: First part of a short series of sorts? Childhood friends to lovers kinda vibe which maybe could have been a one shot but I wanted to try something different! I have the next part written but after that, let me know what you'd like to see happen between Wanda and R (any interactions/conversations to be had/etc.) and it might influence where this story goes 👀

Part 1 of 'half of my hometown' series masterlist next part ->

»»————-　★　————-««

If there’s one thing she knows, it’s grief.

Wanda Maximoff was born and raised in a war-torn country; she’s borne witness to a lifetime of destruction, endured suffering, and experienced the slow death of dreams. It seemed like there could be no worse feeling since she’d already experienced it all, but life seemed determined to prove her wrong.

After all that, it took her brother.

If her life were to be likened to the myth of Pandora’s Box, then Pietro Maximoff would have been her hope – the one bright light in her life that she believed could never fade, that would never leave her. From the second she was born, and for 26 years thereafter, Pietro had always been by her side; no matter what happened, they went through it together, reacted together, and emerged alive on the other side together. For all their disagreements, Wanda couldn’t think of a single experience she hadn’t shared with Pietro. Which makes this new feeling – the painful, unenviable knot of loneliness in her heart – all the more terrifying.

Pietro will never share it.

Months continue to pass, with Wanda taking notice of nothing but herself becoming more withdrawn, avoiding Stark's parties and spending more time in her room, where she can let the loneliness consume her. She really did try when the Avengers first brought her to America, but Pietro had always been the social twin, and the conversations only made his absence more pronounced.

Wanda's mood worsens as her loneliness grows, but only she can see the change in herself. The team hardly noticed the difference -- they hadn't even known her before her grief, so how could they see what it had caused in her?

Lingering on the thought, Wanda realises there is no one left who remembers the girl she used to be before the pain and grief and suffering. She used to believe that her childhood friendships would last forever, but those friends are likely gone, she thinks, lost to the rubble just as her family were. Wanda Maximoff is the last person alive who could ever remember her true personality, but now, even she isn’t so sure.

»»————-　★　————-««

On that same night, in that same building, you suffer from the same line of thought. Brought from Sokovia to America in your early teens, joining SHIELD was your way of doing good in a world you knew firsthand needed help. You hadn’t expected it to be your own teammates and colleagues who had been causing the troubles in the first place; some went under with HYDRA’s exposition, but many remained, passing test after test because, despite the presence of their names on documents approving the bombing of your birth city, they truly had no allegiance to HYDRA. They are SHIELD agents throughout, but that doesn’t make them ‘good’.

Your sense of hope is naive, really. It’s a remnant of the lingering childhood sentiment that you would make the most of your escape to America, to make real change and bring peace to the friends you left behind. By now, you’ve seen the worst of SHIELD, endured mockery for your opinions, watched the organisation fall and then rise again only somewhat cleansed to assist the Avengers, yet you still work for them. Perhaps it’s fear that keeps you here, perhaps it’s delusion, but either way, you find your workarounds and do your best to progress.

That’s the situation that leads you to now, patrolling the halls of the Avengers Compound at 2am, pondering what you are even working for now that the only evidence left of your country’s capital city is a crater full of rubble. 

Loneliness takes centre stage when you work night shifts – an unfortunate coincidence considering loneliness is what caused you to take the time slot in the first place. You don’t want to work with your colleagues, always feeling like you’re on the sidelines of the group, never quite as close to them as they are to each other – now exacerbated by the seed of doubt that any one of them may have seen your country as a necessary sacrifice, an inevitable fatality in a world of war. 

It’s easier to work alone, you tell yourself again, but you begin to doubt it.

With no country to return to, no relatives, and no friends at work, you wonder how else you can change yourself before you finally fit in. Maybe then you wouldn’t have to be alone.

»»————-　★　————-««

Those thoughts are interrupted by whirring machinery, and you suddenly snap to attention and creep towards the Avengers’ gym. An intruder wouldn’t settle down for a quick training session, you imagine, and lower your guard marginally, but still ready yourself for a confrontation – there shouldn’t be anyone around at 2 am.

You walk in, only to stall immediately when you see a familiar brunette on the treadmill. She’s not one of the Avengers you’ve met before, nor one of the ones you’ve only seen on TV despite living in the same building – she’s new then, you conclude, or an intruder, but that doesn’t explain why you feel like you’ve seen her face before. 

She looks up and her eyes widen when she sees you, before she shuts the treadmill off and quickly ducks her head. You don’t know what to say.

“I’m sorry,” she mutters while she hurriedly gathers her things, “I didn’t think anyone would come in here.”

You know why you recognise her now, the accent giving it all away.

“You’re Sokovian.” The woman clearly wants to leave; her belongings are bundled in her arm and she’s taken several quick paces aiming to pass you to get to the door, but she pauses at your statement and finally raises her head to meet your gaze.

“You’re not.”

“I am,” you reply, somewhat indignantly.

“You don’t sound it.”

Your natural accent had slipped over the years, it was true, a mix of natural evolution and forced acclimatisation on your behalf as an attempt to better fit in had led to the accent you now had. Not good enough to fool your American-born colleagues, but enough, it seems, to fool your fellow Sokovian. You think carefully, the new accent is so well practised that you struggle to separate what comes naturally and which parts you condition yourself to speak with. Eventually though, you speak and let the traces of your Sokovian past shine through.

“It’s been a while,” you tell her, “13 years since I last saw Novi Grad. I thought I’d return one day but… I guess not.”

Her eyes narrow as she tilts her head ever so slightly, the action once again striking you with a sense of familiarity. She seems to shake herself out of it eventually. She tightens her grip on her belongings and finally inches past you, not speaking again until her hand is on the door handle. 

“I suppose neither of us can ever return home… your accent is rusty, Y/N, but it’s nice to see someone else survived.”

You jolt suddenly at her use of your name, but she’s gone before you can even turn around and acknowledge that she recognises you too; all that remains of her is the door slamming shut in her wake. 

Memories crash back to you of the first half of your life, it's enough that you need to take a seat before allowing yourself to reminisce. It's been thirteen years since you last saw Wanda, but you'd never forgotten the shy brunette you used to run to and from school with; the girl whose apartment you would visit whenever the power went out, to huddle together and make up stories to entertain yourselves.

You wonder briefly why she left the gym so suddenly, rather than staying and catching up, but you realise that even you need a moment to process the fact that one of your friends, a memory from your past, is not only still alive, but also living in the same building as you. It seems likely that you'll see her again, and you hope it's something that she wants too.

You're already planning to give her time, but no matter how the night started, the encounter plants a seed of hope in you that the future might just be a little less lonely.

next part ->

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General Taglist: @canvascoloredin @fxckmiup @wizardofstories

(Might do a series taglist for this too - let me know if you'd like to be added! @family-house-of-m you have no choice but to be tagged)

#wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #mcu #marvel #ikan writes #wanda maximoff & reader #ikan homh

[tleeaves]

Folks going "WHAT they made a show about the Fallout franchise?? I've been hearing people say Bethesda messed it up, but I haven't watched it myself, so I'm going to trust the word of other people -- some of which also haven't finished watching it" is driving me insane.

Being a hard core fan of something obviously brings with it a lot of passionate feelings when adaptations come into play. Of course, there's going to be people going "but in 8 episodes of the first ever season they made, they didn't explore Theme C or D, didn't introduce factions E and F and G, and because the source company is notorious for its scams, we and everyone else who's a TRUE fan should hate it".

The Amazon Original series Fallout follows the videogame franchise of the same name. It is a labour of love and you can tell by the attention to detail, the writing, the sets, and YES THE THEMES ARGUE WITH THE WALL. It's clearly fan service. I mean, the very characterisation of Lucy is a deadringer for someone playing a Fallout game for the first time. She embodies the innocent player whose expectations drastically change in a game that breaks your heart over and over again. Of course, she's also the vessel through which we explore a lot of themes, but I'll get to that.

There're some folks arguing that the show retcons the games, and I gotta say... for a website practically built on fandom culture, why are we so violently against the idea of someone basing an adaptation on a franchise that so easily lends itself to new and interesting interpretations? But to be frank, a lot of what AO's Fallout is not that new. We have: naive Vault dweller, sexy traumatised ghoul that people who aren't cowards will thirst over, and pathetic guy from a militaristic faction. We also have: total atomic annihilation, and literally in-world references to the games' lore and worldbuilding constantly (the way I was shaking my sister over seeing Grognark the Barbarian, Sugar Bombs, Cram, Stimpaks, and bags of RadAway was ridiculous). Oh, and the Red Rocket?? Best pal Dogmeat? I'm definitely outing myself as specifically a Fallout 4 player, but that's not the point you should be taking away from this.

The details, the references, and the new characters -- this show is practically SCREAMING "hey look, we did this for the fans, we hope you love it as much as we do". Who cares that the characters are new, they still hold the essence of ones we used to know! And they're still interesting, so goddamn bloody interesting. Their arcs mean so much to the story, and they're told in a genuinely intriguing way. This isn't just any videogame adaptation, this was gold. This sits near Netflix's Arcane: League of Legends level in videogame adaptation. Both series create new plots out of familiar worlds.

Of course, those who've done the work have already figured out AO's Fallout is not a retcon anyway. But even if it was, that shouldn't take away from the fact that this show is actually good. Not even just good, it's great.

Were some references a little shoe-horned in to the themes by the end of the show, such as with "War never changes"? Yes, I thought so. But I love how even with a new plot and characters, they're actually still exploring the same themes and staying true to the games. I've seen folks argue otherwise, but I truly disagree. The way capitalism poisons our world, represented primarily through The American Dream and the atomic age of the 45-50s that promoted the nuclear family dynamic -- it's there. If you think it's glorifying it by leaning so heavily into in the adaptation, I feel like you're not seeing it from the right angle. It's like saying Of Mice And Men by John Steinbeck glorifies the American Dream, when both this book and the Fallout franchise are criticisms of it. If you think about it, the post-apocalyptic world of Fallout is a graveyard to the American Dream. This criticism comes from the plots that are built into every Fallout story that I know of. The Vaults are literally constructed to be their own horror story just by their mere existence, what they stand for, what happens in each of them. The whole entire show is about the preservation of the wrong things leading to fucked up worlds and people. The missions of the Vaults are time and again proven to be fruitless, unethical, plain wrong. Lucy is our brainwashed character who believed in the veritable cult she lived in before she found out the truth.

So then consider the Brotherhood of Steel. I really don't think it exists in the story to glorify the military. We see just how much the Brotherhood has brainwashed people like Max (also, anything ominously named something like "the Brotherhood" should raise eyebrows). Personally, I don't like Max, but I am intrigued by his characterisation. I thought the end of his arc was rushed the way he "came good" basically, but [SPOILERS] having him embraced as a knight in the Brotherhood at the end against his will -- finally getting something he always wanted -- and him grimly accepting it from all that we can tell? Him having that destiny forced upon him now that he's swaying? After he defected? If his storyline is meant to be a tragedy, it wouldn't surprise me, because Fallout is rife with tragedies anyway. And a tragedy would also be a criticism of the military. That's what Max's entire arc is. It goes from the microcosm focusing on the cycle of bullying between soldiers to the macro-environment where Max is being forced to continue a cycle of violence against humanity he doesn't want to anymore because a world driven to extremes forces him to choose it to survive (not to mention what a cult and no family would do to his psyche). Let's not forget what the Brotherhood's rules are: humankind is supreme. Mutants, ghouls, synths, and robots are abominations to be hated and destroyed. If you can't draw the parallels to the real world, you need to retake history and literature classes. The Brotherhood is also about preserving the wrong things, like the Vaults (like the Enclave, really). They just came about through different method. The Enclave is capitalism and twisted greed in a world where money barely exists anymore. The Brotherhood is, well, fascism plain and simple.

Are these the only factions in the Fallout franchise? Hell no. But if you're mad about that -- that they're the main ones explored, apart from the NCR -- I think you're missing the point. These themes, these reminders, are highly relevant in the current climate. In fact, I almost think they always will be relevant unless we undergo drastic change. On the surface-level, Fallout seems like the American ideal complete with guns blazing that guys in their basements jerk off to. Under that surface, is a mind-fuck story about almost the entire opposite: it's a deconstruction of American ideals that are held so closely by some, and the way that key notion of freedom gets twisted, and you're shooting a guy in-game because it's more merciful than what the world had in store for him.

I mean, the ghoul's a fucking cowboy from the wild west character he used to play in Hollywood glam and his wife was one of the people who helped blow up America in the name of capitalism and "peace". There are so many layers of this to explore, I'd need several days to try and keep track and go through it all.

The Amazon Prime show is a testament to the Fallout franchise. The message, the themes? They were not messed up or muddled or anything of the sort, in my opinion.

As for Todd Howard, that Bethesda guy, I'm sure there's perfectly valid reasons to hate him. I mean, I've hated people for a lot less valid reasons, and that's valid. We all got our feelings. But the show is about more than just him. My advice is to keep that in mind when you're judging it.

#fallout series #amazon prime fallout #amazon prime video fallout #amazon fallout #prime fallout #fallout #besthesda #todd howard #fallout spoilers #some light analysis #the american dream #militarism #lucy mclean #maximus fallout #cooper howard #the ghoul #I know they're not planning a skyrim adaptation and that's fine #I prefer it remaining in its videogame medium while I write fanfics #so if they had to adapt any of their games I'm actually glad it was fallout #also please forgive me I wrote this very late at night so there's probably a bunch of mistakes #and I've played fallout for like six years and still don't know anywhere near as much as the hard core fans but I'm also not a newbie

[crystal-moon-101]

A while ago I had made up a Zak for each day of the week to match Zak Saturday and Monday for fun, and because I wanted to give Zak some more AU similar to how Ben gets a lot of them. So not only do they all have different last names, but each have their own backstories and colour theming! So I hope you enjoy my little AU concepts.

-Zak Saturday-

Classic original Zak. I decided to draw them all when they're 11, start of the series vibes. So that's why he doesn't look like the ways I normally draw him currently, since those are when he's 14. Nothing different with his design here, beyond still giving him those vivid orange eyes.

-Zak Sunday-

Also known as Zak Argost, having been taken in by the man after he had a certain encounter with Zak's parents, resulting in their deaths. When Argost found the young toddler, seeing the start of Zak's power, he was happy enough to take the child with him and use his powers to his benefit. Due to being taken when he was very young, Zak doesn't remember his parents at all, fully believing in anything Argost tells him, the only family he has. So he happily helps his guardian in keeping cryptids tamed during Weird World shows, or during trips to learn about them, even if Argost puts Zak in more danger than he should. Due to his appearances on Weird World, Zak is a celebrity of sorts, even if he doesn't get to go out often. Argost also gives him a lot of gifts, keeping the child in a positive mood to keep him under his thumb. So Zak truly believes that Argost cares about him.

Though things start to turn when Argost finally decides it's time to hunt down Kur and take his powers, hiring Van Rook and Doyle on the mission. This leads to Zak and Doyle getting to know each other, with Doyle feeling protective over this random kid for some reason. Eventually this leads to him taking Zak away when this whole Kur business gets out of hand. While Doyle can't seem to convince Zak that Argost doesn't care about him, the pair do at least agree to try and find Kur first, Zak worried that even Argost shouldn't handle such powers. However, only time will tell if the pair discover the truth behind their unknown family history.

-Zak Monday-

The good old twisted gremlin of a child, Zak Monday and his family were a result of the smoke mirror. They come from a world that twists the very nature of people, a poor reflection of their negative aspects. If you're naive, then your mirror self is incredible dumb. If you're a bit of a perfectionist, then your mirror self is a control freak. And Zak Monday represents the twisted doubts of Zak feeling like a monster, so why have any doubts when you can be the monster?

I decided to change Zak Monday a bit to have the green eyes and green shirt with his own logo, cause I liked the idea that after his first appearance, they switch back to what they're suppose to look like. But other than that I kept the concept of him looking just like Zak, minus the inverted hair colour.

-Zak Tuesday-

The young naga is the son of Rani Nagi. Born solely to have Kur's soul enter and be a host, but whoops! Looks like Kur's memories aren't there, but that wasn't going to stop Rani Nagi, who thinks if she keeps at her plans, eventually her son will become the old cryptid king she once knew. Even going as far as to solely call her child Kur, who secretly calls himself Zak due to him often watching humans in the shadow, curious about them and wanting a name for himself. Zak Tuesday has a lot of identity issues, not helped by his mother's teachings towards him, ignoring all his dreams and personal thoughts. Eventually he just got really good at lying rather than convincing Rani Nagi.

However, the young cryptid prince is suddenly kidnapped by Argost one day, as he figured out where Kur's soul was currently living. Zak knew he would have died that day if not for Drew and Doc recusing him, having been chasing Argost over this Kur situation. Though they're a little surprise that upon meeting the new Kur, they find it's just a young naga who really doesn't know who he is. At first Doc and Drew didn't know what to do with him, but Zak begged them to not send him back home, and let him stay at their place until he could figure things out. He wasn't foolish, he knew the nagas were planning a war, and he wasn't keen on being the face of it all. So now the Tuesdays just have a snake living around the house, but they can't exactly complain as he is a well mannered guest at least. And perhaps the house doesn't feel so lonely with him around either.

-Zak Wednesday-

Some of you might recognize this one, but this Zak is from my old Zur AU, where Kur was reborn via the Kur Stone due to it being an egg, and Zak is a dragon that shapes between human form and dragon form. I decided to update him, making him Zak Wednesday now, with a pink theme! I also decided that instead of Kur being reborn, I wanted to shake things up a bit and have it that Zak was directly Kur's son. His mother is unknown, and as Kur saw how the world was at the time, he put Zak's egg into a stasis situation until it was discovered again. After saving it from Argost, the egg hatched among the secret scientist, leading to them chasing the child of Kur. But upon using his shapeshifting abilities to look like a child of Drew and Doc, they just couldn't help but adopt him on the spot, siting there was no sense in blaming Kur's son over what happened years ago.

The growing dragon is very playful with a cheeky personality. He exhibits a lot of draconic behaviors, with a wild and free spirit. He is aware of his family history, but he doesn't like to think about it, unsure in how to view his father based on the stories he's heard. Besides, Doc and Drew are his parents, and that's all that matter to him. Though perhaps this sudden appearance by Argost, claiming he was going to far Zak's father, has been a bit rattling to deal with.

-Zak Thursday-

When Kur knew he was going to die, and also knew his soul wasn't able to live the mortal realm, he made plans to make it so his reborn self would both be born in hopefully a better time, and be without his memories. It was better that way, so that his new self could live a lovely life without the sins from his past. But that didn't exactly pan out properly, as Kur was reborn and sadly remembers everything. It took him a while to understand this growing up, his young human mind not processing it until he was roughly 7-8, and even then he needed time to think about it. And now he's a depressed 11 year old who now has to be stuck with the fact his plan didn't work, unable to run away from the person he once was. Doc and Drew found out the truth when Zak tried running away one day, their son sitting them down and telling them the truth in hopes they'd just leave him, it would be better that way. But to his surprise they disagreed, as he was still their son, Kur or Zak, and it would be too dangerous to leave him alone.

So now Zak lives with his parents? Are they really his parents? The family keeping this dark secret to themself, even from the other scientists. Doc and Drew still reach out to their son, doing their best to connect with him, but he can't help but push them away. He doesn't deserve this, and they deserve better. However, their secret might come out after Argost stole the Kur Stone and now hunts for Kur, not realizing the truth right in front of him. So now the family tries to get the stones back, wanting to protecting Zak/Kur from others finding out. Doesn't help that he has to go through being a child again with such dark memories lingering in his head, feeling tired and overwhelmed with the world. Hasn't he suffered enough?

-Zak Friday -

In a world where Kur and cryptids successfully wiped out humans, the king ruled the lands for a while after, before one day he mysteriously vanished. Many concluded that he had died somehow, the details unknown, but this lead to a prophecy that one day their king would return, leading to many claiming to be him, or praying that they will be him for the power and wealth. In this universe, Zak and his family are all cryptids, with Zak being a a Chuvash Dragon, Drew and Doyle are Epimeliads, and Doc is a Gargoyle (Other characters are also cryptids in this timeline). Zak is a serpent like dragon that breathes fire, as a very twistable body, and can freely shapeshift. He's heard about the legend of Kur returning, but frankly he thinks they don't need him, even if the cryptid world has been shattered without a king for years now.

But when a yeti named Argost claims that Kur is back, being backed up by the Nagas, everyone starts to gossip and run around trying to figure out who the new Kur is. So maybe it's best that Zak doesn't tell the whole world about his sudden new powers to control and communicate any fellow cryptid is walks by.

#The Secret Saturdays #TSS #Secret Saturdays #The Secret Saturdays AU #AU #Zak Saturday #Character Design #Creature Design #My Art