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toournextadventure · 23 hours

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hate crime

Summary: No one knows what happened to Ghostface after his initial onslaught on New York City. Unfortunately for the population, he didn't disappear; he just got better.

Word Count: 3.6k Warnings: swearing, Scream violence, suggestive themes Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader (movie night & a novel life masterlist)

Rainy nights in New York City were the best. They gave way to those calm nights in the apartment that led to soft evenings and the best sleep of the week. If one was lucky, they would be able to grab a bite at Sofia’s and really live it up. A nice night, movies on the TV, and a half-finished pie on the counter? What else could a girl want?

A date. Cassidy wanted a date. Her boyfriend wasn’t a prick, but he was just stupid enough to not know the basics of a relationship. For instance, it was raining on a Saturday night? You invite your fucking girlfriend over so you can both get fucking laid. It wasn’t fucking rocket science. But no, he just had to watch the game with his fucking friends, and leave her to do absolutely nothing in her empty ass apartment.

Instead, she was alone. All alone, watching some shitty movie while he was probably having the time of his life.

Prick.

Well, at least she had ice cream to accompany her. A delicious pint of raspberry cheesecake. Just one bite was enough to transport her to heaven, and she would argue with anyone who thought otherwise. It had been long enough since Cassidy had put it in the freezer that it was just hard enough to make a nice bite, but not too hard to put up a fight.

It was perfect.

Cassidy’s phone vibrated loudly on the counter when she opened the cutlery drawer. It wasn’t all that unusual to get calls at odd hours; work, school, and friends made sure she kept her phone available at all times. And she answered them. So it was instinctual to pick up the phone and accept the call as she fished out a spoon and closed the drawer.

“I’m not interested,” she said before her friend on the other end could even speak.

“Uh, that’s good,” an unknown voice answered, “because I’m not selling.”

Cassidy’s brows narrowed. “Who is this?” She put the spoon in her mouth as she waited for an answer. A warm spoon was optimal for ice cream.

“A friend of a friend,” the voice said. It was hard to tell if it was a guy or a girl. “They dared me to call.”

“Friend of a friend?” She hummed, thinking about who it could be. “Was it David?”

The person on the other end of the line laughed. “I’m sworn to secrecy.”

“I knew it, that prick,” she sighed. It was no surprise it was David, he would do anything for a cheap laugh. “What do you get out of this shitty prank anyway?”

“Well, it depends,” the voice answered.

Cassidy leaned forward on her counter and smiled to herself. “On what?”

“How long I can keep you on the call,” they said, matching her tone. “Wanna split the $60?”

“Well,” she said, drawing the word out far longer than necessary as she grabbed her pint of ice cream and made her way to the living room. “I guess I can’t turn down $30.”

Cassidy pressed the phone between her cheek and shoulder while she moved. Her hip bumped against the recliner, but it didn’t phase her; she hit it more often than not. As she sat down in the chair, she could hear similar shuffling on the other end of the line. Nothing about it phased her.

“So,” the caller said, drawing out the “o” for far too long. “You doing anything exciting tonight?”

Cassidy chuckled humourlessly. “Yeah, me, myself, and I are really living it up.” She put a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth and left it there as she turned on Scary Movie 5. How exciting.

“Well,” the caller said with a barely hidden laugh, “what are the three of you doing tonight?”

“A Scary Movie marathon.” She took another bite of her ice cream. “Probably for the fifth time this semester.”

“So you like them.”

“Love them,” she answered instantly. “I could watch them all day.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Absolutely.”

“Well, then what’s your favourite Scary Movie?”

Cassidy looked down at her ice cream and scraped the spoon over the top. That was a pretty good question. The humour in each movie was top tier to her, and that wasn’t negotiable. She couldn’t compare them on that aspect because they all depended on which movies they were making fun of. But there was one movie that stood out from all the rest, she supposed.

“Probably the first one,” she finally said. “It’s a classic.”

“Isn’t that the one based on those Stab movies?”

“That’s the one,” she said with a singular nod that no one could see.

The movie continued to play on the screen.

“Have you ever seen the Stab movies?”

“Fuck no,” Cassidy said before the unknown voice could even finish the question. “Horror movies give me the creeps. Especially when they’re based on real people.” A minuscule shiver wracked her body as if to prove her point.

She heard a deep breath on the other end of the line. “You know, you really should watch the original.” Another breath. “It’s to die for.”

Something about the tone of that last sentence put Cassidy on edge. Perhaps it was simply because she was home alone while the storm continued to rage outside. None of her friends talked like that. Sure, this person was a friend of a friend, but it was still a bit odd.

This person was a bit odd. Was the $30 really worth talking to a weirdo all night? She could be settled with a blanket and paying attention to her movie. But no, she just had to answer the phone and accept a shitty deal. She would need to tell Heather about this whole weird situation later.

“Hey, how much longer until we get that money from David?” Cassidy asked. She couldn’t stop thinking about that last thing the person had said, but she chose to try and ignore it.

“Just a few more minutes,” the caller said in a breathy tone. It was creepy. “Which movie are you watching?”

“What?”

“For your marathon,” they clarified. “Which one?”

“Oh,” she chuckles humourlessly. Nervously.

She wasn’t so sure she wanted to tell the truth anymore. There was an uncomfortable feeling settling in her stomach. She hesitantly placed the half-empty pint of ice cream on the side table, soon accompanied by the spoon she had licked clean.

“The third one,” she finally answered.

“No you’re not.” A lump forced its way into her throat. “That’s the fifth.”

Her entire body was frozen while the words ran laps around her mind. What the hell was going on? Her nerves felt like they were engulfed in fire, leaving her simultaneously too hot and frozen. That wasn’t right. The words didn’t form any proper reason in her mind, but she understood the sinking feeling it left in her chest.

“How do you know which movie I’m watching?” She asked as she slowly stood up from her chair.

A heavy breath. “Because I can see your screen.”

As soon as the words pieced together in her head, Cassidy ran to her balcony window. The curtains were closed. They weren’t the only windows into her apartment, but they were the only ones that faced the TV. As far as she knew, no other window could see her screen; a deliberate furnishing choice on her part.

“Listen,” she said breathlessly as she stared at the closed curtains. “I’ll tell David we talked all night if you want.” There was no response. “You can even keep all the money.”

A taunting laugh.

“I never said I talked to David.”

Shit. Shit shit shit. She knew she should have hung up at first. Who the hell was this freak? It was New York City, there were plenty of freaks around, but this? This was just psychotic. Nobody in their right mind would do this shit!

She quickly tucked the phone between her cheek and shoulder again and grabbed the curtains with both hands-

“-Open it and I’ll slit your fucking throat.”

They wouldn’t. They couldn’t. How would they even get into the apartment? She froze and reconsidered. How else could they have known what was on her TV? God, what was going on? She thought about the ramifications for far too long before letting go of the curtains. They shifted for a few moments before finally settling back into place.

“Who are you?” Cassidy’s voice was weak.

“You assumed our mutual friend was David.” She waited impatiently. “But surely you haven’t forgotten our dear friend Anika.”

Cassidy laughed bitterly. “Are you fucking serious?” She stomped through the apartment to grab the ice cream and dirty spoon. “Did that loser and her freak girlfriend put you up to this?” She practically threw the ice cream back into the freezer. “Because it’s pathetic.”

Of course that freak had caused this. She hadn’t bullied Anika and Mindy for nothing. Cassidy was a patient soul, it was true, but even she had her limits. No one wanted to hear those weirdos talk about stupid movies 24/7, especially when it wasn’t necessary. Didn’t they know there were better, more important things in the world?

“Those are some strong opinions to have,” the caller said over the sound of the spoon hitting Cassidy’s sink. “Especially for someone in your position.”

She rested her hip on the counter. “And what position would that be?”

“You can open your balcony window now, Cassidy.”

The curtains of the balcony were swaying. If she strained her ears, she could hear the rain falling a little louder. Would it be smart to open the curtains and see what was out there? Or maybe she should just hang up, call the police, and let them deal with it. After all, the police had never done anything wrong to her, surely she could trust them.

But she wanted to know. She wanted to know what those freaks had managed to pull off all on their own. Cassidy wouldn’t have called them stupid; at least not Anika. But there was no way she would have said any of them were smart. They were all just a bunch of down on their luck kids who had gotten into Blackmoore out of pity, not intellect.

Whether she had fully intended to or not, she let her feet carry her toward the balcony. As she got closer, she could hear the rain and wind clearly; the balcony window was open behind the curtains.

“How do you know my name?” She asked even though it was a stupid question. If this person was friends with Anika, then that was how they knew.

Still.

“Everyone knows your name.”

She reached out and grabbed the curtain with both hands.

“Or they’re about to.”

Cassidy closed her eyes, threw the curtains open, and screamed. She used every ounce of breath and energy in her body to release the most blood curdling scream she could manage. But when she opened her eyes, the scream died down in her throat.

There was nothing on the balcony. The door was open, but there was nothing there. Not in the doorway, not on the actual balcony, and not across the street. Hell, the only thing she could see was the poor potted plant that she had let die last year and hadn’t thrown out yet.

This was all just some sick joke.

“You know, this is really pathetic,” Cassidy said calmly even though her heart was still pounding in her chest. “I’m calling the cops.”

“Fine, call them.” She grabbed her phone and looked for the “end call” button. “They’ll find out all about your dirty little secret.”

She froze.

“Turn around, Cassidy.”

Her heart was beating loudly in her ears. Mixed with the rain and wind coming in through the open balcony window that she couldn’t bring herself to close, it was deafening. She didn’t want to turn around. She didn’t want to see what could possibly be hiding behind her. It could all be some cruel joke and the apartment could be empty.

Or not.

She took a few short, quick breaths and braced herself before finally turning around quickly, nearly tripping over her own feet. There, in the middle of her apartment, was Heather. Heather, the best fuck she’d ever had, tied up in the chair like a piece of meat. There was a gash on her head that was dripping blood into her eyes, but aside from that there weren’t any other physical injuries.

“Heather?” Cassidy said in disbelief.

“Please help me,” Heather cried. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

Cassidy dropped the phone without hanging up. She didn’t care anymore. All of this had gone too far. Those creeps had crossed too many lines. Messing with her? Fine. It was pathetic, but fine. But finding her secret hookup? Didn’t they know she had a reputation? What would her boyfriend think if he found out? Actually, he would probably think it was hot. Maybe that was worse.

“Did Anika do this to you?” She asked as she attempted to untie the knots in the rope. It was probably the first time in her life she had ever regretted having acrylics.

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Heather said with a sniffle. A drop of blood fell onto the rope. “Her and her geek friends are obsessed with this shit.”

“We’ll call the cops later,” Cassidy said. “I’m tired of their freaky, “poor us” bullshit.”

The ropes weren’t budging, and her fingers were feeling raw. How had they managed to do such a thorough job so quickly? Perhaps because, like she had known from the very beginning, they were all a bunch of freaks. A bunch of freaks who had no lives, no real friends, and no chance of living like normal people. She smirked to herself. They’d have one hell of a time getting any sort of job after college if she had anything to say about it-

-the floor creaked.

Cassidy’s fingers froze. There was only one place in her apartment that the floor creaked. And it wasn’t underneath her or Heather. She looked up slowly. First she saw Heather, sitting there impatiently and waiting for her to get her out. Then the gash on Heather’s face.

Then the cloaked figure standing behind her.

Then the Ghostface mask shrouded in a black hood.

The Ghostface tilted his head at her. She couldn’t move. It felt like the air had frozen in her lungs. She just had to kneel there and watch as he lifted a gloved hand with a giant knife and waved at her with two fingers. The knife was huge. His free hand lifted just as slowly and pushed the mask back inch by inch until she could see the bottom of his face.

The smile was accentuated by the deep scars stretching across both cheeks.

Cassidy opened her mouth to scream before something came from behind her and pressed against her throat.

She never made a sound.

—---

The pool of blood slowly inched across the tarp that had been carefully arranged underneath the two college girls. It was wide enough to catch any accidental splatter, yet thick enough to keep it from spilling out. A wise purchase for a wise killer. Or two.

Ghostface stepped forward, standing over the corpses. It wasn’t their proudest moment; there had been a few hitches in the plan. But when the result was the same, well, they supposed it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. They grabbed the mask and yanked it off.

“You jumped the gun,” Tara said breathlessly. The adrenaline was still running through her veins; she had grown to love it.

The second Ghostface removed their mask next.

“I know,” you said with a sigh. “I’m sorry.” You looked down at the corpses of your enemies with glee and disgust. “She’s just such a bitch.”

You both continued to stand there, neither one daring to make the first move. The silence after a kill was one of the more satisfying moments to you. No more screaming, no more steel cutting through flesh. Just the sounds of your breathing and the blood rushing through your ears.

“I didn’t know they were gay,” you finally said. “Or closeted, I guess.”

“I think Mindy said they were experimenting,” Tara speculated. “They both tried to hit on Anika at one point.”

You hummed in response and continued to look at them. Not that you had stopped. That was the one thing you didn’t think you would ever really get used to. Sure, your family business was… a bit risque on its own, but this was different. You would argue with Dicky all day every day, but knife wounds were more gruesome than gunshots.

“Does this make us homophobic?” You asked. “Was this a hate crime?”

“I-” Tara stopped and closed her mouth. It made you feel a little better that she had to think about it too. “No,” she finally said with a slow nod. “We’re doing the world a favour.”

You smiled. “God, I love you.”

“Love me while we clean up,” she demanded even though you saw her smile. “Get moving.”

The cleanup process, all of you agreed, was the worst part. It was methodical, time consuming, and boring. You would much rather spend the time with Tara, not cleaning up after the two bitches that bullied all of you like you were still in fucking highschool. Truly, it was almost embarrassing for them. You didn’t want to clean up after their mess again.

But you liked the time you got with Tara. Since the whole original Ghostface debacle, she had lightened up. She still bullied you, but honestly? It was a turn on. You wouldn’t dare tell her to stop. If there ever came a day that you didn’t want Tara Carpenter to bully you? It would be the end of the world.

Cleaning up with Sam, however, was a beast.

That’s why you stuck with Tara. Not just because you loved her, of course, but it was a wonderful bonding activity. You hadn’t wanted to bring her into the family business because, well, that was just dangerous. But this? It was nice. And honestly? It got the both of yours adrenaline going and usually led to some of the best date nights.

…

Maybe you both needed more therapy.

“The scary movie question was clever,” you said after you had finally managed to haul the tarp - and the corpses - to the trash chute.

“Thank you,” Tara said with a genuine smile. “I’m pretty proud of it.”

“You should be,” you encouraged. “I thought Cassidy was gonna hear me laughing.”

“You would’ve been sleeping on the couch,” Tara replied. She was serious, but you knew the truth; she would’ve slept on the couch with you.

The next stage of cleaning was far easier on the back. It was basic cleaning, to make the apartment look lived in, but not abandoned. And certainly not like a murder had occurred. Or, you supposed it was a double murder. God, you still couldn’t get over how much of a bitch Cassidy and Heather were. You really did feel a million pounds lighter now that they were gone.

“You know,” you said as you rested your hip on the counter while Tara made sure no fingerprints were anywhere. “Blood looks really good on you.”

“Shut up,” she said quickly. You still saw the blush on her cheeks.

You weren’t lying though. The dark, now-dried blood was a wonderful match to her eyes. It also looked lovely on her skin. You couldn’t really explain what it was; maybe it was the taboo of it all (you definitely needed more therapy). Whatever it was, it was almost like she was glowing.

Maybe you were just in love.

Tara was still checking the kitchen counter when you stepped up behind her and wrapped your arms around her waist. Her body seemed to relax in your arms. Like instinct, she leaned back into you and you could hold her closer. You were like two pieces to the same puzzle; your bodies fit perfectly together.

“It’s kinda hot,” you said before placing a kiss on her cheek. She tasted faintly of copper.

“You’re just deranged,” she said softly.

“Only for you,” you said. Your next kiss was placed on her jaw.

“We can’t do this here,” she said with a sigh. “We’re almost done.”

“We haven’t cleaned the bedroom yet,” you offered. “And I’ve got another tarp in my bag.”

She didn’t argue.

“Think of it as an extra “fuck you” to Cassidy,” you continued. “We both know how much you hated her.”

Your arm pulled her tighter against you as you placed a third kiss right behind her ear. Just going off her silence alone, you knew she would cave. Tara did her best to keep things professional on the scene, but you knew how to win her over. And you knew how much she loved it.

“Okay,” she finally said. Whether she was aware of it or not, her head tilted to give you more access to her neck. “But only a quickie.”

“Seeing you like this?” You said as you bent down and swept an arm under her knees. She shrieked lightly before wrapping her arms around your neck. “I don’t think I could last very long anyway.”

You carried her to your bag and bent down so she could grab it before heading directly to the bedroom.

In the background, the credits of Scary Movie 5 rolled on the TV.

#tara carpenter x reader #tara x reader #tara carpenter #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega

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thekeeperof-thefandoms · 18 hours

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Alastor's reaction to "Bitch, what's for dinner?!"

There is no way in Heaven or Hell this man is every saying this to you. He'd be terrified of his Mama hearing him from Heaven and coming down to reinstill the fear of God into him. Wooden spoons and switches hurt when wielded by a righteously angry woman. Not that his mother hit him often (his father did more than enough).

And you value your life and your relationship with him to try it. In fact, it probably doesn't even cross your mind to test it.

You're not even sure why it's trending. It is a really sweet video and highlights the lingering effects of abuse, but for people to recreate the video is odd to you. I mean, maybe not, because you see a lot of cosplay under the sound, and you'd be lying if you didn't agree with some of the ships being perfect for this audio. But like, you don't want to recreate it with Alastor.

So how would it come up?

Well, you and Alastor are sitting together, it's later in the evening, he's reading his paper and listening to radio and you are sitting quietly beside him, phone volume and brightness on low so you can watch a few videos, the compromise you made with Alastor about technology being near him.

The sound comes across your feed paired with yet another couple re-enacting it and from the corner of your eyes you see Alastor's ear twitch as the door slams on the video and the man shouts at his girlfriend.

The second she responds with the timid "grilled cheese" his head snaps towards your phone, the video glitches, and your phone shuts off (at least he's stopped breaking them).

"How distateful. And to be comfortable with others seeing him behave so brutishly. Clearly, men today need to be taught manners, their poor mothers. What an embarrassment to have your child turn out so disappointing."

You lean against him and pat his arm.

"If you'd have waited until the end, you'd see it's just a trend. People yell this at their partners to see how they'll react, if they take that abuse or not, and if they do, they always reassure them to never let anyone speak to them that way. I think it's supposed to be cute and supportive."

Alastor rolls his eyes, muttering about how nonsensical that is. You get your phone working again and decide to put on a true crime podcast to listen to before getting up. It's your turn to make dinner, so Alastor's your helper and dishwasher tonight. You wait for him to finish his page, set his paper aside and stand, his arm going gently aroind your waist as you two stroll to the kitchen.

He stops in the entryway and turns to you.

"For the record, I should hope I would never stoop so low as to treat you that way, but if I do, or if something I say or do truly upsets you or harms you....please do not refrain from telling me."

You laugh and kiss his cheek. "Just telling you? Usually those videos end with their parnters granting permission for their partner to slap them."

Alastor chuckles. "If you feel it's necessary. Though I'd prefer we just talk."

"I'd prefer that too. And same goes for you, always tell me if I've crossed a line."

"Of course, my dear. Now, I'll demonstrate the proper way to phrase that question."

He takes your hand dramatically, lifts it to kiss the back of it, and guides you fully into the kitchen. "What are we making for dinner, mon cher?"

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader

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foldingfittedsheets · 19 hours

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This isn’t funny like most of my story posts but enough people have asked some for my opinions about lubricants and general tips that I figured I’d do a little master post about it.

I’m not a doctor! I just worked in a sex shop for several years and picked up a bunch of helpful nuggets, here they are.

All the links will be funny stories though, if you’re looking for a laugh.

Lubricants:

Silicone

Silicone Lube Pros: This stuff is the energizer bunny of lubricant. A very small amount goes a really long way and cannot be absorbed into the body. For anal, those experiencing vaginal dryness, or just really good penetrative sex between partners silicone is wonderful. Silicone is also extremely inert and by itself cannot cause yeast infections or allergic reactions*. Doesn’t taste or smell of anything.

*Some manufactures may add things to silicone to cut costs that could negatively impact genitals, read ingredients.

Silicone Lube Cons: Not safe with toys. Silicone lube can bond to silicone toys, this is basically always terrible. Because of its nature it can be very difficult to clean up, rags might be necessary as water will not help you much. This lubricant can feel very thin to some people who might prefer a more substantial feel. Also it can stain clothes or bedding in large quantities so having a dedicated sex blanket or towel can save sheets.

Favorite Brand: Pjur. Spendier but best overall feeling to me, nice and silky and a single bottle will last ages.

Water Based

Water Based Pros: This lube is the work horse and skeleton key of lube. If you never want to worry about what bottle you reach for, water based always has your back. It’s safe with toys, condoms, you name it. It comes in a variety of thicknesses and viscosity, there’s truly a water based lube for every preference.

Water Based Cons: Tragically, we are made of water. Human bodies love to absorb the water part of this equation, meaning it needs to be reapplied more frequently. For certain activities or bodies it’s nicer to have a lube that doesn’t need quite so much reapplication. Additionally you have to be careful of what ingredients* get added, many cost saving ones are a yeast infection in a bottle.

*Never use Astroglide, KY, or Vaseline, they bank on brand recognition and make the shittiest lube in feel, performance, and body safety. Glycerin or glycol is always a red flag ingredient for vaginal use.

Favorite Brand: Earthly bodies WaterSlide. There are So Many water based options that it’s hard to pick. This was my go to because it has a pretty okay feel but its ingredients list is short and to the point with nothing offensive like glycol to watch out for. It rehydrates very nicely if you lick it, it doesn’t throw off vaginal pH, and it’s inexpensive and easy to get. Even Walmart has it.

Hybrid

Hybrid Lube Pros: As the name suggests this is like silicone and water based had a baby. This lubricant has more body than a traditional silicone while being much more long lasting than a water based on its own. It cleans up easier than silicone and is still a good option for any type of sex except toys.

Hybrid Lube Cons: Still not safe to use with toys. That’s basically it. It’s pretty great.

Favorite Brand: Sliquid. I love their hybrid, it feels very nice with more substance than a silicone on its own and they’re a very nice brand overall in every category.

Oil Based

Oil Based Pros: Oil based is almost always on hand in either olive or coconut oil, it’s second only to silicone in butt stuff territory and some people prefer oil. Like the Roman Empire, which, I can’t blame them. Tastes and smells pretty nice.

Oil based Cons: Cannot be used with condoms. Kind of a big deal! Using condoms with anal is still a good idea but oil based lost favor when it turned out it destroys the most common modern prophylactic. Additionally oil can mess with vaginal pH. Anecdotally I’ve had people tell me it was infection after infection and others who only ever used oil. Similar to silicone, tough to clean up.

Favorite Brand: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I’ve never had personal experience with them and I don’t know which way to steer you, sorry. Messing with condoms mean that this lube has struggled commercially.

More Below, just don’t want this getting too long. (Also in case I need to add to this it’ll keep current version circulating if this blows up.)

Notable mentions for lube:

Spermicidal lube: Truly terrible for you. It causes micro tears and irritation which open you up to more disease and infections, besides which it tastes repulsive and is not a very effective preventative. Just don’t.

Flavored lube: I really don’t recommend this? Good lube doesn’t taste like anything, I don’t see that this needs to exist. Vaginas do not like anything sugary in them, which all flavored lubes are by nature. For health reasons it’s extremely Inadvisable to eat out butts without protection. If you must use flavored lube on a vagina haver try to focus it on the clit and not internally.

Condoms:

Condoms come pre-lubricated but did you know: Most condom tearing is the result of insufficient lube inside the condom? For safer sex put a few extra drops of lube inside the condom to increase sensation and decrease risk of tearing

Don’t store them in your wallet. Your body heat will break down the condom much quicker than storing in a drawer. If you’re going to carry one grab it fresh for a date.

Condoms stretch but they need to be tight at the base. Tight however doesn’t meet cutting off circulation. That’s a cock ring. If you need to wear condoms I recommend trying a few singles to see what brand feels the best for your body.

There are lambskin condoms but I don’t recommend them at all. They cannot be tested for tears, they still transmit STIs and they feel like wax paper. Polyisoprene is better in virtually every way for those with allergies.

Most people suffer from low grade latex allergies making a lot of condoms unpleasant. Latex was the first material able to be tested for structural integrity (they run a small electrical charge through it to test for breakages, neat right?). However! A new material hit the market called polyisoprene. It passes all the same safety regulations as latex while being hypoallergenic and contains much lower odor which brings me to…

Favorite Brand: Skyns. These condoms are truly excellent, smell and taste of nothing, and are just as safe as latex! The best. Really.

Anal:

Do not just stick a dick in a butt. Anal is about patience and many people have an awful first time. I cannot count the number of men who came in to ask, “How do I convince my girlfriend to do anal?” No. Start small, little plugs or fingers, and work your way up. Make sure things are relaxed and very very very like so very lubricated.

Do not. Ever. Numb your ass. Many products try to sell you on numbing your butt for anal. This is how emergency room trips happen. You need to listen to your butt, numbing it is how tearing happens.

Don’t rip out anal beads. I feel like it should be clear why ripping anything out of your body like you’re trying to start a chainsaw is a mistake but it bears repeating.

Butts. Will. Consume. Do not ever insert anything into your ass that doesn’t have a flared base. A flared base should have a perpendicular width of two inches to be safe. Don’t end up an ER horror story.

#ramblies #sex education #sex ed

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mcflymemes · 3 days

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CHALLENGERS (2024) PROMPTS * assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary.

who says i want somebody to be in love with me?

i don't want to fuck you to prove a point.

fuck me because you want to.

are you gonna do it or not?

tastes even better than it looks.

i just told you i missed you.

i really want to kiss you right now, but i'm worried that if i try, you'll think i'm the worst friend in the world.

you know, it hurts me sometimes how little you believe in yourself.

decimate that little bitch.

let's be honest, you gotta feel bad for the kid.

you're not a spring chicken anymore.

dude. he's a pancake. you're gonna flatten him.

how's this feeling?

we're ready for you.

so obviously this isn't the result you wanted today.

you choked.

i don't want you to embarrass yourself.

i'm just a little rusty. it's a confidence thing.

get your fucking confidence back. i can't do it for you.

i'm so sick of you using this as an excuse to have a fucking meltdown.

you said we could watch a movie.

you're evil.

i'm gonna quiz you on it tomorrow.

sir, i don't know who you are.

i don't think we have much more to talk about.

i haven't spoken to you in five years.

i was just taking a little nap.

move, or i'm calling the cops.

you were really something back then, huh?

we always talked about how amazing it would be to win this together.

i'm a crazy person.

any predictions about how that's going to go?

can you do me a favor? can you not, like... demolish me tomorrow?

shut the fuck up.

if it matters to you so much, i can just give it to you.

i need it to look like i really beat you.

don't guilt me with your dying grandmother.

she's the hottest woman i've ever seen.

you were... fucking incredible.

baby, we've got to get going.

i'm not going to that party.

are you that threatened by me?

we can't both just go in there, dicks swinging.

i'd let her fuck me with a racket.

hey, do you smoke?

of course they will remember you.

see, that's your problem. you think you're like an artist or something.

you just want to win because you love it when people tell you how talented you are.

are you on facebook?

i told you tennis was boring.

you just got this crazy look on your face.

are you on a date?

i don't kiss and tell.

why did you want to have dinner with me?

i think you might be the worst friend in the world.

i didn't know you were so concerned about my feelings.

of course you still have a thing for her.

we just had what i'm assuming is the best sex of our lives.

i fucked your brains out?

what do you think you need? a cheerleader? a fuck buddy? a girlfriend?

you're talented, you're charming, and you've got a big dick.

excuse me for inconveniencing you.

don't expect to sleep here tonight.

stop going easy on me.

i'll be whatever you need me to be. i'll fuck off if you want me to.

i need you here, actually.

you're referring to when i declared my love for you.

you're not in love with me anymore?

i've been dreaming about this for five years.

i'm gonna propose something to you, and it's gonna make you angry. it's gonna make you very angry. but you have to hear me out, okay?

i'm finally ready to listen to you.

how dare you fucking ask me that.

do you think it's cute what you're doing? do you think it's funny?

that's the stupidest fucking thing i've ever heard.

i've always wanted you.

you didn't do anything to me. i did it all to myself.

i think i've reached the limit of my willingness to have this conversation with you.

do you understand how embarrassing it is that you're here?

you've never beaten me.

tell me it doesn't matter.

will you just hold me?

i'm not here to fuck you.

i miss watching you play. you were so beautiful.

#challengers #mcflymemes #rp prompt #rp meme #rp memes #roleplay memes #roleplay prompt #rp starters #ask meme #ask memes #roleplay meme #sentence starter #sentence starters #sentence starter prompt #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox prompt #inbox meme #look at me making memes left and right today

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accio-victuuri · 2 days

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4/29 candies to enjoy ^^ 🍭🍬🍩

this was a busy day for us cpfs. so i’m gonna compile some bits that made our cpn-senses go off! 😂

the most obvious, and my fave, because of how it follows the pattern is them not overlapping their releases. i thought gg was gonna release the gucci stuff at his usual 10:05 or 10:10 but he didn’t. that’s because wyb had jeanswest release on 10:30. i love how that was given it’s time till 13:00 when gg posted the ad. i’m clowning cause 13 is yizhan! and then 13:20 will be the weibo live for FPU, which was kinda delayed too when it went on. some more materials for GUCCI was released throughout the day but moreso on international platforms.

it’s hilarious cause i saw a hot take from an xz anti before who said he is “afraid” of doing stuff alongside wyb. that is their perception. lol. but i think even if you don’t believe in the whole cp thing, maybe it’s professional courtesy? maybe these two are friends and have this unspoken rule? 🤷🏻‍♀️

tho i was very happy to see them both pop up on my weibo opening screen! and to experience them having these international campaigns, for wyb, lacoste recently— makes me proud. 😌

a funny cpn from today is this parallel. in a segment at FPU, there was a moment where a fan said jiayou and wyb said cheering is not always necessary. It reminded us of that time xz was told to jiayou when he was about to go to the restroom and he’s like???? why do i have to jiayou???

oh these two. 😂😂😂

yibo is the resident gremlin who always has a smart ass reply or some savage comeback for you but xz usually doesn’t. but we know what he has that in him too and i wish we could see more of that!

bonus cuteness before we proceed, this edit of them looking like they are doing the choreo for jisoo’s flower 🌸 and they are BP fanboys so it fits!

now some double standards. in the movie channel interview, they were asked where they first met, and wyb couldn’t remember. compare this to how he was with xz! he was always very proactive that they met in ttxs!!!!

there was also a part where they were asked to give an example of what they wanna learn from each other. and if they communicated to learn. so HJY said street dance and WYB said jiu jitsu but they both weren’t able to learn from each other. in the meantime, wyb taught xz a dance routine 😂😂😂 among other things. i’m sure yibo will be more than happy to help someone out, but i think you have to be at a certain level of closeness to him. or he is really comfortable with you.

this last section is for the beaded bracelet. i think it’s time to discuss it again because this is the 3rd time he is seen with it. so this looks like something personal for him. tho i have to say, you have the coco crush which is both personal and part of him promoting chanel too. i’m invested in this cpn and at the same time frustrated because of the questions.

( p1: him wearing it for the fpu bazaar magazine shoot // p2: worn during the movie channel interview // p3: what so/os are saying is the bracelet not that it matters cause i can clown this too )

1. i hate how no wardrobe accounts have confirmed what it is. and i kinda understand cause we never see it fully, plus there is cpn attached to it so they are extra careful. which is also another source of my frustration. why does he wear it when he has long sleeves on??? he was wearing a shirt earlier and his arms were bare! but wait.. he changed his clothes and as soon as he had something to sort of cover it, the bracelet was on. 💀💀💀💀

it’s like he is purposely clowning us!

2. if this was a jewelry to show off and promote Chanel, why can’t we see it well? and i want to see the change in the beads’ color to confirm if it is what the solos say it is.

i’m also side eyeing international solos who are proudly commenting how wyb’s bracelet is luxury and not some cheap buddha beads like xz’s. what? it’s such an insult to a culture that is important to yibo. those bead bracelets made in specific temples for protection is part of his culture. he knows it’s importance and respects it. but what can i expect from solos really? lol. the bar is already very low when it comes to them but they still manage to disappoint me. 🪦

3. and if it is Chanel, i can still clown by thinking GG bought it for him so they can match. 😂😂😂 atleast with the aesthetic.

bonus: the bone necklace!!!!!

another bonus, i saw this photo of like a celebration i guess for queen of tears. and the cake! the way the actors are cutting it! lol. reminds of xz and wyb! 😂

banner edit source 圣衣雪琳

-END.

#this became longer than i intended too lol #yizhan #bjyx #there is no science here i’m just clowning like i always do

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kitorin · 1 day

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misalignment (n).

/ˌmɪsəˈlʌɪnm(ə)nt/

the incorrect arrangement or position of something in relation to something else. "in which, mikage reo finds himself both asphyxiated and confined within the unfortunate circumstances of his first love."

contents. mikage reo x gn!reader, unrequited feelings, no happy ending, right person wrong time (i think), reader and reo borderline drunk / wasted, unproofread misery, tiny implication at gaslighting but nothing like that happens, never written unrequited love nor experienced it (can't get rejected if i never confess !!)

Despite the intelligence and academic prowess he had maintained throughout his entire lifetime, Mikage Reo is fundamentally a fool; one who unwisely but desperately deludes himself as a means to remain blind to the truth.

The 'wanna hang out tonight?' text was the flame to his moth, effortlessly attracting him whilst having the full capability to incinerate his very existence, to destroy every part of him.

If years of friendship accompanied by unreciprocated feelings could teach him anything, it was that, to spend time with you, lining up was a prerequisite for Reo.

Free time for you was defined by work's leniency (which seldom seems to happen, but at least you enjoyed it), and the occasional period where you weren't obsessing over a drama or book series.

After that section of the queue, was quite literally everyone else. An invitation from you meant that Yukimiya was too preoccupied with modelling, Rin's overseas, Nagi was too lazy to respond and left you on read, Isagi's busy training, Kunigami's at the gym, and Hiori didn't have the time to travel that far.

Finally there was Reo, back up plan Reo, the friend that you could go to when no one was available; the friend you liked enough to spend time with but not enough to prioritise.

He steals a glance at you as you keenly sip from your glass. Self-hatred chews at his conscience, but the livid, and tired part of him shoos it away.

It's not a very nice thing to accuse one of thinking of another so lowly, especially a close friend, however the explicit signs of him holding little significance in comparison to others seemed to validate it. You and he have been drinking for a while now, without much word other than the 'hello's and quiet greetings when you first saw each other.

It's normal, the silence. It's just how things worked between you and Reo. Neither of you were particularly social, words weren't necessary to enjoy time together, that was one of Reo's favourite things about you.

He's always tired of speaking, having to maintain flawless image, that included appearing as someone sociable and eager to speak with others.

But with you, that expectation was nowhere to be seen.

You're now adults, but this is nothing different from the quiet walks to the bus stop back in high school. The ones where he'd do his best to steal a glance of how you look, soaked within the sunlight while smiling.

Chatter permeates the bar's atmosphere gently a few clinks of glasses can be heard which followed hearty laughter and the occasional cheer.

You're first to talk. "How's university been?"

"Good." Was the workload horrendous? Yes, and so was adulthood in general. Reo knows he has it easy; he can afford it easily and could still live comfortably without working a day in his life. But he still yearns for the same feeling high school had. "Hakuho was fun though."

You place your drink down, swallowing. "I know right? Never thought I'd say this, but I miss high school. It sucked most of the time. But you and the others made it so much better.”

Reo nods, as he gulps down more alcohol. “I miss it too. How has studying been for you?”

You huff. “It’s a lot. I feel like I spend more time studying than doing anything else. But it’s good. I don’t mind since I’m actually studying something I’m passionate about, you know?”

“I’m glad, then.” Reo stares at his whisky, swirling the amber in his glass. “Proud of you. I really am. You’ve come so far, and I just know you’re going to do well.”

Growing from a clueless high schooler to a driven, impassioned, medical student. A lot has changed, years pass yet he remains unloved by you.

God there he goes again, lamenting on his paltriness. It must be a relative of masochism; he could be safe and secure at home with a good book and cup of tea, yet he’s here drinking with the source of his pain, while tethering on the border of being intoxicated with alcohol instead of heartbreak.

With each drink, a wave of euphoria swallows him up, licking up his misery as if it were sand on the shore. Rationality and emotion bicker like seagulls quarrelling over food.

You laugh at his sweet words. “You drunk? Thanks though.”

“Drunk or not, I mean it. Seriously.” Reo knows his limits, but doesn’t bother correcting you. His face feels hot, not because of the soju, but because of you.

You’ve always been pretty, to a ridiculous extent. But absurd how a few years changes you so much. Reo can’t even identify the changes, he just knows you’ve gotten prettier; that his heart races faster whenever he sees you.

“Seriously.” You echo, and nod, and smile. “I miss seeing you every day. School was so much fun with you around.”

Another hasty gulp of soju. Reo can’t stand hearing those words.

I hate you.

Is it directed to you, or himself? Not even Reo’s quite sure. He does his best to ignore your kindness, if it were true then he would’ve been addressed you with a smile in the same way you’d speak to anyone else; he would know how his name sounds off your tongue. He would mean more than a last option, and all those texts wouldn’t be left on read, viewed out of genuine care rather than basic manners.

Even though he can go on about unfair this feels, it’s ultimately his fault for still spending so much time with you. You’re supposed to cut off the people who don’t value you. You’re supposed to only care for the ones who’d do the same for you. Reo should’ve cut ties with you long ago, yet he clings onto your relationship as if it meant more than anything else.

I miss seeing you at school everyday. Your words echo, and he does his best not to choke on his drink.

Formalities, not affection. It's not love, it's your way of manners. If you truly did care you'd be spewing those sorts of words out constantly, like when you're with Chigiri, or Anri.

"Reo? You good?"

"Yeah. 'm fine." It's a reflex, he barely had time to register the words leaving his mouth. "Are you?"

"Yah. I'm not the drunk one here am I?" You chuckle to yourself, bringing the glass back to your lips, averting your gaze elsewhere. "Were you always a lightweight? Your face is so red."

"And yours is so pretty."

There he goes, ruining your night with something stupid.

"Yup. Definitely drunk. You're saying weird things now."

And with that, Reo commands, requests, pleads himself not to cry.

"You know." Another shot of soju is swallowed down by you, punctuated with a refreshed gasp. "The me a couple of years ago would've been overjoyed to hear that."

It feels as though every interaction with you accentuates his one-sided love and it stings; time with you is mere salt to the wound.

Neither of you say anything for a bit.

Reo can recall your confession, an awkward text sent after a couple of months the two of you actually spoke. There's an unspoken boundary between you two, to not being up the topic of each other's crushes or of your confession.

A fair rule, but it's harboured questions. Reo hasn't got a clue on your love life and crushes. He knows of your obsession with romantic dramas, always binging whatever's trending, screaming on social media about having to wait a full seven days for the next episode.

If only the two of you were a part of one. But even fiction would probably destine him for solitude woven of heartbreak.

"I think you're the drunk one. Why bring that up now?"

You've finally halted on drinking. "Dunno. That was my first confession."

And you're my first love—he wants to say it, it's at the tip of his tongue yet he can't muster it to say it aloud to himself or even to Nagi; let alone you.

"Well, it was an honour."

It wasn't. Because the thought always intrudes into his mind. What if you had confessed a couple of years later, or even at least two?

Or what if Reo hadn't taken his sweet time to fall in love with you, if he had told you he wanted to get to know you first instead of a simple rejection, would you be in his arms?

"Shut up. I was a stupid kid back then. I promise you, I have absolutely no feelings for you. Not anymore."

Reo scoffs, he can't even fantasise of the potential between you two. You liked Mikage you'd see in the hallways; rich and top of the school; not clingy old Reo who feels ever so slightly too much for everyone he cares for.

Whereas Reo couldn't care less about l/n that just transferred to his class, but would die for the y/n he discovered throughout the years.

"Yeah yeah, I know. Never thought you did." He knew you didn't.

It wouldn't've saved him from his doom of unrequited love, but the timing was terrible. The heavens should've made your infatuation and his adoration align, at the very least. Even if it meant Reo remaining unloved.

A hiccup follows a breathless giggle. "Who did you like in highschool? There had to be someone. Why didn't you ever tell me though? You had so many fans, you must've liked one of them."

Because it's you. "Because you never asked." Reo shrugs, almost impressed at his own feigned composure.

"Now I ammm." Now your words are beginning to slur. "Whooo?"

It's you. And still you. Reo could say it right here and now. You're essentially wasted and probably won't remember it. And if you did, he wouldn't mind crossing an ethical line and fibbing if it meant concealing his pathetic vulnerabilities.

Perhaps one day he'll tell you, if the uninterrupted storm ends, and the skies clear, if Mikage Reo's heart will one day stop aching for you.

"I'll tell ya some day. When I feel like it."

"What?! You're not allowed to add that much suspense—and not tell me in the end."

And perhaps in another universe, he and you can be of the same constellation, instead of being galaxies apart.

taglist (send ask to be added) : @yuzurins , @pokkomi , @chigirizzz

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comradekatara · 3 days

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i read somewhere that, after the war, zuko at least hands hama over to the swt instead of keeping her in fire nation prisons 'till the end of her life. Which is nice, I think. But I'm also curious as to how that would work out.

Most notably: how do you think it'd go down if she were to meet Pakku? given they both have some sort of connection to kanna's life, the idea of them being forced to interact even once entertains me very much. like, old waterbending master pakku—white lotus member—who has grown up in a patriarchal society and actively forbidden women from training to fight, under the precedent they are somehow ontologically weaker, fragile, and belonging in the healing huts... THAT guy, meeting his former fiancé's old friend: (or current wife's if you go by canon, which, eugh) A woman who not only fought in the front lines but ended up becoming one of the most skilled, creative, and deadly waterbenders in history. How would he react when finding out that a woman came up with blood bending? How badly would Hama mind-fuck him?? Because I'm confident they'd hate each other's guts-- no way she'd tolerate him,,,

And on a similar note—how would Kanna feel upon reuniting wirh Hama and discovering what she put Katata through, in your opinion? Idk, I'm just full of puppetmaster thoughts today. Hama is incredibly interesting and I wish she wasn't handled so much like a Halloween Specisl creepy witch, (even though katara herself is handled and written pretty well in this episode, i think. but i digress.)

i mean obviously i think about this all the time. i personally think that zuko hands hama over to the swt upon katara's request, and she and aang personally deliver her on appa (sokka is not there, for the very deliberate reason that if he knew what they were doing he would very vocally disapprove). and so katara is sort of retraumatizing herself by doing this, but she also feels like it's necessary specifically because she needs to be able to look hama in the eye and tell her why they're not actually the same (especially now that she actually did bloodbend someone in cold blood). katara has the love and support and safety to step back from her anger and her pain and her grief and hang onto her own humanity and allow herself to be the bigger person even in moments of abject rage and acute trauma, and hama doesn't. hama is a victim of her circumstance, and that's part of what makes her so uniquely terrifying to katara, because katara has that same capacity to make people hurt, she has the same tools at her disposal, and she has the same justifications to exercise that power. but unlike hama, she hasn't actually been pushed past her limits. sometimes she can see the cliff's edge, and sometime she even teeters on the line, but hama was fully just shoved off without a parachute, and that's really what separates them above all. i think katara should be allowed to acknowledge that and forgive herself for that, even if hama doesn't directly apologize to her (although in my mind she does, and it's not enough, but it's also so much more than katara ever expected to hear). even if it is too late for hama, katara deserves to heal.

frankly, i don't really give a shit about pakku or his reaction to hama. i also don't actually think that he thinks woman are ontologically incapable of being talented waterbenders of whatever; he's a pretty worldly guy, the reason he clings to these traditions isn't born of the belief that they're grounded in logical evidence like sokka's is, it's because he believes in the preservation of a system that benefits and valorizes him. pakku thinks katara belongs in the healing huts because he comes from a culture that dictates that women belong in the healing huts. like, he might also subscribe to the bioessentialist logic that women are better healers and men are being fighters, but that honestly doesn't really matter, because (unlike sokka) his epiphany lies not in the fact that woman can fight, but in the fact that his role in upholding these systems has actively driven his loved ones away due to his cruelty. he decides to be kinder, to women and in general, because he realizes that being an asshole has negative consequences. but frankly, who cares what he thinks of hama. realizing that your sister tribe in the south deserves aid and protection after being subjected to a century of genocide is kind of too little too late imo. unlike katara, sokka, aang, or kanna, who can approach this situation from the perspective of being a genocide survivor who even remotely understands hama's trauma, pakku really has no place in this conversation to me.

as for kanna...... god. hama/kanna reunion is genuinely one of the most heart-wrenching concepts to me in all of atla. as a sidenote, hama/kanna fanfic goes so hard every time. there's a total of like 15 fanfics for them on ao3 (last i checked) but they're all sooooooo. fucking delicious. tide locked........... ugh. anyway. i cannot fathom kanna's reaction upon learning that her closest friend once upon a time is not only alive, but also a convicted felon, for crimes including but not limited to manipulating her granddaughter, violating her (and sokka's) bodily autonomy in cruel and perverse ways, and forcing her to participate in that mode of violence in a way that traumatized her forever. even if you don't read them as former lovers (although it is indubitably better that way) it's so gut-churning. kanna lost so many people over the course of her life, and to learn that one of them has returned but in the worst way possible must be mind-boggling and distinctly unreal. like how do you even process that. first, how do you process how much pain she must have went through to become the kind of person who is capable of doing this, and then, how do you process the knowledge that the person you once loved most in the world irreparably hurt the person you now love most in the world? obviously she would always prioritize katara's safety over anyone else's no matter what, but god. kanna has led such a fascinating and impossibly difficult life, and it's not over yet.

#kallianthi #asks #analysis #postwargaang #hama #katara #pakku #kanna #hamaxkanna #hama&katara #also i didn't mention it in the post itself bc i've talked about it before but yeah i very much agree that i wish hama had been framed #differently because i do feel like making her into a cackling witch kind of undermines the whole point of the episode #she's someone who is deserving of our empathy and understanding despite her violence and by reducing her into a caricature #we lose that nuance #but otherwise it's such a fascinating episode....#kataraaa.... katara i love you katara <33333

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lesbianphan · 2 days

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I know this is gonna be mushy and overly emotional and I'm sorry for oversharing a bit, but I feel like it's necessary to put into words what rewatching We're All Doomed means to me personally. I watched the kiswe premiere event live and it was one of the most fun nights I've had in a while, even though my life felt extremely hopeless at the time.

And, look, here's the thing: when the WAD premiere dropped, I had completely given up on improving things. In fact, I was very much in the 'doomed' mentality. I had long accepted that there was no way my life would get better. So Dan's message really resonated with me: it's easy to settle for being at rock bottom and thinking that's all there is for me. I was happy to see Dan doing better, but deep down I didn't truly believe his words either, not really. I did want to, but I wasn't quite there. And I don't believe them all the time, as he himself said he doesn't, and doing the show many times hammers the point home into his head.

After experiencing it, I thought maybe, just maybe, I could stop only embracing the void, but start having the courage to exist as well. Putting myself out there more, trying to make a world for myself in which I'm not the :/ emoji all the time. So I applied for the jobs, I wrote what I wanted, I unapologetically embraced the nerdy things and the fandoms I enjoyed. I decided I can choose happiness in the smallest of ways, even when it sounds silly and unimportant. Because it isn't unimportant really if it means something to me.

Rewatching the show last night showed me how much it changed my life and the big leaps it helped me take in life. I have so much more to learn, but I keep telling myself to be brave (lmao sorry had to sneak the Phil reference) and have the courage to exist. Really truly exist out in the world, not hidden inside my room. And sure, some days are harder than the others, some days I really don't like myself at all. Even in those days, though, I tell myself: all I have to do is have the courage to exist.

I went in to watch WAD with no expectations, and I feel like the message of appreciating the little moments was so monumental, it truly absolutely had a huge impact in my own life. I have a job now, and some financial stability. To be honest, I never thought I'd get this job, I might not even have applied if I wasn't in this mindset. In so many ways, Dan and Phil have profoundly changed my life, and I think WAD is just one of those big examples.

I doubt the real humans Dan and Phil will ever understand the impact they've had on this world, but I'll forever wish them the best. I'll always support them, because their creations have irrevocably changed me as a person, and as much as I like joking around and stuff, I'm just thankful that we share this existence, and we get to have fun and be forever changed by it.

Thanks @danielhowell, you'll never know how huge the impact of this show was, but I am truly crying writing this and I hope one day I get to tell you in person how much you inspired me to keep going when no one else would.

#obligatory come to Brazil comment so I can meet you Dan #daniel howell #danisnotonfire #(lmao soz)#Dan Howell #We're all doomed #WAD #amazingphil #Phil Lester #Dan and Phil #phan #dnp #sheesh I'm crying now help ahaha #amanda yaps #personal

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fyorina · 14 hours

Text

ᡣ𐭩 LATE NIGHT DRIVES!

FEATURING: nakahara chuuya

SUMMARY: it's felt like ages since you've last been able to spend time with chuuya with how busy he's been with mafia business. you know he'll make up for it, he always does, but this time, he goes above and beyond even by his standards.

(wordcount: 1k; sfw; fem!reader, not really any other warnings necessary just reckless driving & some hints of sexual undertones at the end but nothing explicit)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: ive actually had this in my notes app for an absurd amount of time idk why i hoarded it for so long

You think that there's nothing more freeing than the feeling of the wind whipping around you and the night sky vast above you as you race down open roads in the countryside west of Yokohama. you laugh wildly, spreading your arms as the speedometer of Nakahara Chuuya's motorcycle continues to edge upward.

“Oi!” You hear him shout over the wind, “How many times do I have to tell you to hold on?”

“Relax, Chuuya,” you complain, unable to keep the glee from your voice. “I know you’ve got me. There’s nothing to be worried about.”

You can hear him scoff loudly, but you know that if you peek over his shoulder you’ll see his pale cheeks tinted pink, as they always are when you proclaim your unwavering trust in him.

“Just hold on, would you?” he snaps, and you can hear how flustered he is just through his tone, so you smile and wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your chest against his back as you lay your cheek on his shoulder blade.

“If you wanted me to hold you so bad, you just had to say so, Chuuya,” you tease, feeling his abdomen tense beneath your touch as he bristles.

“You’re insufferable,” he murmurs. You only kiss the nape of his neck in response.

You'll admit that most people would find it reckless to be in this situation—with the speedometer crossing 150 kp/h and the streets dark and windy, but you swear it’s the safest you’ve felt in a long time. You’ve missed being with Chuuya. You’ve missed the feeling of his body against yours, you’ve missed the faint smell of wine beneath the familiar cologne he always wore, you’ve missed his sharp tongue that only ever lashes at you when you have him scared shitless with your carelessness. But in your defense, you refuse to call it careless because you know Nakahara Chuuya will never let you get hurt.

That doesn’t stop him from getting anxious about it, though.

You smile to yourself as Chuuya finally slows down, pulling off on an unfamiliar side road leading into the woods. You prop your chin on his shoulder, laying the side of your head against his.

“Where are you taking me?” you ask. “Finally had enough of me? Gonna kill me and dump my body in some backwoods?”

“Yep,” he agrees easily, turning his head to the side to press a chaste kiss against your temple.

You laugh, eyes drawing around the dark countryside before you lift one of your arms up to card your fingers through his hair.

“Quit it,” he mutters, with no heat behind the words. “You tryna make me fall asleep or something?”

“Not my fault you’re so pretty,” you sigh, nudging your nose against his shoulder again before burying your face in the crook of his neck, basking in his presence as he slowly comes to a stop and turns off his bike.

“C’mon,” he says, “look.”

You lift your head, squinting as you look up in front of where he had come to a stop to see a small, nice cabin in a clearing within the forest. Brows furrowing, you swing your leg over the side of his motorcycle, getting off to take a few steps in the direction of the cabin, confused.

“What is this place?” you ask, turning back to look at Chuuya as he leans against his bike.

He’s watching you with a fond, affectionate expression that has your face hot because you aren’t used to catching him looking at you like that. He’s always quick to school his expression when you look his way, but he doesn’t this time.

“A place for us,” he says quietly, and you don’t know if you want to throw something at him or kiss him, throat closing up as you stare at him, trying to figure out if he's playing with you. “To get away from everything in the city.”

“… For real?” you ask after a moment of silence, voice a bit more shaky than you intend for it to be. You know that Chuuya isn’t one to make jokes about stuff like this but you still want to be sure.

He raises his eyebrows and then tosses something in your direction. Only barely catching it, your eyes widen when you realize it’s a set of keys.

“For real,” he agrees.

You think you might cry.

“Hey, why the hell are you crying?”

You are crying.

Chuuya makes his way over to you quickly, gloved hands coming up to cup your cheeks, thumbs wiping away your tears as his brows furrow in confusion.

“I thought you’d like this.”

“I do,” you say immediately, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. You lean into his touch, eyes fluttering shut as he presses his lips to your forehead.

“Then why the hell are you crying?” he repeats, bemused.

“Because I’m happy, Chuuya,” you say quietly. “Really happy.”

“So you’re crying?” he questions, but then shakes his head, squinting as if to make sure you aren’t lying. Once he’s satisfied, a slow and sensual smile began to tug at the corners of his lips. “What do you say we go christen the bedroom then, yeah?”

You giggle, hand slipping down to intertwine your fingers with his as a giddy feeling spreads through you. As you drag him to the front door the cabin, you toss him a smile over you shoulder and say:

“Just the bedroom, Chuuya?” you tease. "Don't be such a prude."

You let out a shriek when you feel him suddenly grab you by the wrist, pulling you toward him before you can unlock the front door. His hands settle on your hips and you let out a pleased sigh into into his mouth when he presses his lips to yours, walking you backward until your back hits the door.

You feel him smile against your lips as he murmurs, "How about we start right here then, hm?"

#chuuya x reader #chuuya x you #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya nakahara x you #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you

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the-once-ler-in-superjail · 3 days

Text

CHAPTER 36: The Asylum - Part 2

Finally here, sorry this one took so long, we both got really busy this time but it's here!

Lineart/cleanup, flats & writing- @wiggybe

Layout/roughs, shading/lighting & writing- @self-made-madman

(TW: Mental illness/health/asylums.)

PART2

Once-ler: *He holds the Warden in his arms, relieved to have another moment alone with him, knowing that they're going to get out of here and that people are following his orders. At least he can have his glasses, they're just glasses, prisoners get to wear their glasses because they're visually impaired, this should be no different. He sniffs and wipes his tears with his hand, whispering.* I love you too. *Kisses the Warden's head and sighs out, hooking his chin over his head and bundling him up in his arms.* You're going to be okay, we- we're going to get you out. *He can't let him down.*

Warden: *His eyes shut, and as he floats in the vague numbness of what's been done to him, he absorbs all of Oncie's love, the feeling of his arms, the scent of his clothes and the way his voice vibrates through his chest. It helps to calm him, more than anything else ever could, but there's an instinctive part of him ready to have it all ripped away.*

Dr. Zazzerzump: *She strides straight into the room and states in a simple, curt voice.* Mr. Once-ler. *She has the air of a headteacher who won't be suffering nonsense, but because she isn't a blustering, loud older man, and hasn't brought the chaos of a crowd with her, she doesn't cause the same flinching reaction in the Warden as everything else. To him, this is just one more thing to trust Oncie to handle for him.*

Once-ler: *Pulls his head back from his boyfriend and looks over to the new doctor walking into the room. He knows this lady to be the woman in charge here. Good, that means he can sort this out properly rather than having to slap drones around. He doesn't get up though; he won't leave Edmund unless it's necessary, and he doesn't care how he looks holding him. If anything it only shows that he means the man no harm and that they do share a relationship.* Hm. *His eyes meet hers and he lets out an acknowledging grunt.* Doctor... *He looks her up and down as for a moment her name escapes him, but he does know all the names in charge of his cities' institutions.* Doctor Zazzerzump. *That's the one. He frowns, glancing around at the other nurses as they follow in behind her as if he's pretending to wonder where the Warden's glasses are, like he's making a point. Two male doctors join also, including Snickberry-Shoo, who all keep their distance.* Thank you. I requested the nurses bring this man’s glasses to me, where are they?

Dr. Zazzerzump: *Her eyes flit to the way the Once-ler is holding the patient only once, to take in the information and judge it. It's inappropriate, maybe, but it is proof that they know each other. Or proof that the patient has been so well-drugged that he doesn't know what's happening. Well, the Once-ler is a sane man, so it's presumably the first one. And yet, policy is policy for a reason.* The patient is in here because he proved to be a danger to himself and others. We can arrange for his glasses to be reconsidered, but he cannot have them back just because you asked... *She searches for a word that isn't rude.* 'nicely'. I will have the administrators put in a request, and he will be re-evaluated for his tendencies.

Warden: *He curls tighter, pushing his bare face against the Once-ler's chest so he doesn't have to see the world without his filter.*

Once-ler: *Feels a spike of adrenaline in his chest when he's refused, the thought of having to wait making his frustration build all over again.* That's not soon enough. Can't you make an exception?! Look at him, he needs them. Even prisoners don't have their own glasses confiscated. What could be so bad about him having his when I can supervise?

Dr. Zazzerzump: They could break - he could break them - and then we have glass shards, sharp wire, and an unpredictable man in the same room. The hospital would be liable if any harm came to either of you, even - *she anticipates the potential solution he might offer* if you were to sign a waiver. I'm afraid your friend must follow the rules like everyone else in the secure wing - no special treatment. But we can have him seen by our resident optician if necessary.

Once-ler: You’re already causing harm to him by treating him like this. *Breathes in a sharp, frustrated breath as he clutches onto Edmund harder. He knew these were the reasons. He doesn't care. Edmund is more dangerous to himself without the glasses. Besides, it’s not like he isn’t already drugged up to his eyeballs, bound in a straight-jacket, and not being watched over by a sensible and powerful man.* Don't you have security cameras here for the same reason? Just keep a closer eye on him for god sake! *He knows that what he's asking is exactly special treatment, but why shouldn't he? Parole exists so that those facing trial can pay to be in a comfortable environment while they wait. He raises an eyebrow.* I'll sign whatever the hell you like, if any harm came to either of us I'd take that responsibility on myself and see to it that no repercussions fall on the hospitals reputation. I can do that. *He tilts his head to the other side, frowning harder.* On the other hand, however, I can't promise the same should my requests be refused. *Hisses as one hand releases Edmund to slip into an inner pocket inside his jacket to fine his cheque book.* Fuck sake, how much do you want for them? *Looks at her like she just personally hurt him* He’s not dangerous, not with me and not right now, look at him. I’ll pay you extra if we could just arrange to have him monitored so that he can have what he really nee-

Dr. Zazzerzump: I cannot be bought, Mr. Once-ler. *As corruptible as the bribe of money can make people, sometimes those with the a more selfish agenda than just greed can be more malicious.* *She doesn’t care for money, she cares for maintaining an old archaic institute that she holds power over. Taking small wins, keeping control over anyone in her immediate vicinity, and insisting on her old fashioned ideals. And it just so happens the vulnerable patients in this place make those objectives a lot easier. She remains totally unmoved, as cold as steel, although she does for a moment feel a skip in her chest at the thought of more money towards their operations here. Still, she will have no preferential treatment for the wealthy or connected, even if the town's founder himself starts writing a check. She doesn’t quite realise that anyone, poor or wealthy, known or noone, would be willing to give up everything in their possession for the people they love. She holds a fundamental belief, a false ‘moral’ virtue about herself, that those of the mentally impaired are a danger to be hidden rather than human beings to be treated, despite having little to no modern research supporting her biases. There is no grey area that could suggest that the pain of others might warrant an empathetic reconsideration of the ‘rules’, she just holds onto these old ideas being ‘correct’. It’s as if Thneedville, and the people in it, are a product of a time where mindsets like this were the modern standards.* As I said, we cannot sign our duty of care away.

Warden: *He shifts, yielding as easily as a doe when Oncie's hand releases him to pull out his cheque book, but never stops gripping onto him. It's all going over his head, whoever that voice belongs to. Oncie is fighting a battle above the surface of the water while he sinks down below, and all he can do to avoid going (further) mad with fright is to hold on and make sure he never leaves him by himself. Right now the world is very simple - everything outside of their arms wants to hurt him or worse, abandon him to his own mind. Everything inside their arms is safe and loves him.*

Once-ler: *Sneers at her through his teeth in a low voice.* Ev-ery-thing can be bought. *He lets her speak, and as she does, he removes his thneed from his neck as if he's already made up his mind about something, not needing to hear the rest of it- because one can’t reason with a person who’s already accepted their own world view as fact. One can’t engage debate, even the most civil, with a person who has already made up their mind. The only thing that matters now is protecting his own pack. Something about the way this woman speaks is making it both harder for him to breathe the fire he usually does and at the same time makes him want to burn it all down with even more fury than when he spoke to the previous doctor. It isn't just a bigger dog biting at a smaller yappy dog, it's a fox VS a snake, both fighting for the fallen rabbit, and he's met a snake like this before. Thankfully the two women are nothing alike, but that doesn't stop the vitriolic, rebellious feeling in his gut needing to prove her wrong. He hisses again, almost scoffing at the irony of her words.* Your ‘duty of care’… *He glances to the Warden in sympathy, then back to her with far less.* Why is he so out of his mind?

Dr Zazzerzump: *Adjusts her glasses.* Is that a trick question, Mr Once-ler? All of the patients here are ‘out of their mind’, that’s what this place is for. We haven’t begun analysis or treatment on this particular patient yet, but he’s here for a reason-

Once-ler: That’s not what I meant! *He steams. Treatment of this sort has nothing to do with the rationality of the person involved, they shouldn’t be strapped up, sedated, and left in a cold corner for someone to find them- if someone ever comes to find them- without sympathetic care.* I meant why is he so sedated? Why is he all drugged up out of his mind?

Dr Zazzerzump: He was acting out, Mr Once-ler. a danger to everybody. We sedate all of our patients. It makes them feel better and it makes it easy for us to handle them and treat them. *Of course, she has no understanding of how these patients might truly feel, she’s just trying to come across as caring to hide that all she really cares about is the efficiency of her control here.*

Once-ler: *He almost screams out lout to her; ‘Even when he’s already in a straightjacket?!’ But he doesn’t, it wouldn’t help. He looks down at Edmund who can barely hear this conversation through water, he just knows Oncie is there somewhere and is trying to protect him, but if the man wasn’t here then the confusion would only be making him panic more as he looses an extra layer of stability and understanding.* He’s not comfortable at all, he doesn’t feel better at all, he’s scared. *Maybe he was being a menace, maybe he did deserve to be brought somewhere, but then shouldn’t he have been brought to a jail cell for disorderly conduct? Somewhere he can be held for safety reasons, call someone he knows, speak to a lawyer and at least be reviewed before taken to an asylum? Who authorised that he be brought here? Were they called before the police and just snapped him up to fill one of their patient cells?… He had no idea this sort of conduct was going on here, in his own city. This is old, archaic stuff. For as abstract as Thneedville is, sometimes he does feel that it’s oddly stuck in the 1970’s, as if it’s a product of a mind that’s frame of reference is a world straight out of the late 60’s. Maybe after all of this is over he really should review this place top to bottom officially and write up a report, not just because he’s been personally hurt by it and it’s employees, but because there might be things here he’s not looked at, that could seriously do with reforming.*

Dr Zazzerzump: *Says nothing. She hasn't spared a second glance at Edmund, she's been too busy watching the angry man making his demands and she clearly has no intention of treating these patients like human beings.* If you have no further requirements, I shall leave you two in peace. Visiting hours close at 6.

Once-ler: *Almost hisses at the way she ignores his genuine concerns.* That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say?! *He huffs, and in a sweep of his tailcoats, he turns back to the Warden and strides strictly over to him. He glares over his shoulder to the doctor.* I’m not going anywhere, I’m staying here with him.

Dr Zazzerump: *Suddenly spikes. He can’t stay here! That’s an obstacle between herself and the power she holds over everyone in the place.* Visiting hours close at 6 Mr-

Once-ler: I heard you! And I don’t care. If you won’t let me take him out then I have no other option than to stay with him overnight while I make preparations to have him removed.

Dr Zazzerzump: *Sneers* Mr Once-ler if you do not leave, I will have to have you removed by security.

Once-ler: *Turns around and folds his arms.* Who do you think your security is funded by? Who do you think your very institute is funded by? *He squints and tilts his head.* The Thneedville government? *He scoffs at her*. You think your governments have more power than corporations? Where did you hire your security, from the government or from a company?

Dr Zazzerzump: *Remains quiet and clenches her jaw.*

Once-ler: That’s what I thought. *He tilts his head to the door.* Go on, call them, tell them to remove me… If you really think they’ll listen to your orders over mine. *Fine. He’ll play her games of ‘procedure’ and ‘protocol’, she can make this harder for him as much as she wants, that doesn’t mean she’s going to enjoy it.*

Dr Zazzerzump: *Her icy demeanour starting to crack, she tries to hold herself together, keep her composure, refrain from forming shaking fists with her hands at her sides. By the second, the Once-ler is revealing to her what little power she has, despite her doing her best to hold onto it.* Fine. *He hisses under her breath.*

Once-ler: *Turns his back to return to the Warden.* You understand then. Good. I’ll stay here with him for as long as I need. *He won’t leave until Edmund is in his custody, until he can take him out of this dreadful place. Every part of him just wants to drag him our right now, hire his own security, pay theirs off, rip him out of the straight jacket and take him home, but the amount of chaos that that would cause in both the short and long term just isn’t worth the trauma that it’d have on Edmund. For one thing he’d need to leave him to get it all done that fast, and he couldn’t bear to leave him with them- who knows what they would do while he’s unsupervised? The manic of all the action and panic could have a terrible effect on him, while doctors are grabbing at them, large security men are shouting and the Thneedville public are watching him like a spectacle. It’d be cruel to drag him through that. It’d also cause more problems in the long term for them both if if he acted so unofficially. The best thing he can do is be sensible and assertive, plan his escape right by his side, make sure it’s as easy as it can be, and never leave him alone so long as he’s still in here. He’ll need important files and equipment to do it, and that’ll take time to arrange that if he wants to stay with him the whole time, but it can be achieved. Anything can be achieved by the Once-ler. He leans down by his boyfriend and tucks the thneed into Edmund's bound arms across his front so that he can hide his face in it. He leans into his ear.* I'm not going anywhere. *He straightens up and turns to the doctors, standing between them and Edmund and acting as a barrier while looking incredibly tall at his full height and the extra tower of his hat.*

Warden: *He curls up when Oncie gives him the thneed, and the scent of butterfly milk and truffula tufts proves to the animal in the back of his mind that he's still safe. Still, he shivers when he feels Oncie pull away, and buries himself in the fluff, focusing on the gentle way Oncie spoke to him as his sluggish mind tries to hold on to whatever it can through the grey and depressing mire. He doesn't even remember what he did to deserve being locked up in here.*

Once-ler: I didn't get to where I am today, to owning all of your jobs today, under the false idea that 'not everything can be bought'. *His hand forms a fist by his side, the other one pointing a sharp finger.* I've been nice, I’ve played your game, now you're gonna listen to me. This man is leaving this building no later than tomorrow.

Dr Zazzerzump: *Opens her mouth to speak*-

Once-ler *His index finger and thumb pinch together before anyone can interject, as if making a ‘zip it’ gesture.* I don't wanna hear anymore goddamn bullshit recited from ancient documents! You can either make this easier for me or you can make it harder on yourselves, either way I'm getting what I want. I don't care what strings I have to pull, he's leaving tomorrow. You wanna know why? Because if you won't comply, then I can have you all fuckers replaced with people who will by just making three phone calls. So it makes no difference to me other than the fact you're wasting my time!

[The nurses behind the head Dr Zazzersump and take a step back, they straighten up with a spike of adrenaline in their chests, listening to the orders like soldiers. Dr Zazzerzump blinks at him, momentarily surprised and panic setting in at that threat, which quickly turns into cold anger to hide it. She looks around her staff and can feel her own sense of control slowly crumble as the medical teams have their attention stolen away from her by the Once-ler. The man has always been very good at claiming almost anything as his own.]

Once-ler: *Starts to count on his fingers. Without shouting, now sounding more like a very strict, growling army general. Suddenly they all feel like they work for him.* I want his discharge signed. I want his duty of care handed to me. I want his clothes ready. I want him off whatever shit you've been shoving down his throat. I want his goddamn glasses! And I want it all done by 3pm tomorrow because that's how fast it will take me to fuck up your whole system here and make it mine. *If he were an animal, the hackles of his fur would be rising and his teeth would be bearing, the gruffness of his voice growling through with that last word.* Every single one of you is going to be bought because all of these procedures you're following can be bought, so you better not waste any of my goddamn time once I slam that gavel down onto your precious procedures and shove them in my back pocket! *Points a finger towards each of them.* Get it all done by 3pm tomorrow and not a second later, because The Once-ler will not be late.

[The frightened shocked doctors and nurses behind Dr Zazzersump all stare at her with gormless speechlessness. They’re ready to skitter away and do everything he’s asked without question, because, SHIT, they need to get on this fast to have it all ready by tomorrow. Dr Zazzerzump herself is sweating, and every bitter bone in her body wishes she wasn’t. How dare he turn the tables on them and make such unrealistic demands with such a short deadline, they’d have to drop everything to get this done by then.]

Dr. Zazzerzump: *She attempts to straighten up at the same rate that the Once-ler rises, meeting his eyes and paying cold attention but not interrupting him now he’s on a roll. She holds rigid against his threats and swallows, but as she notices her staff becoming more restless at the mention of procedures and paper work, she can’t find a reason to oppose it. What he's asking for is technically reasonable, if unorthodox, so he’s trapped her in a dead end, all her talk of procedures turned back on her, and thrown the threat of a deadline at them all. Thank god that it is reasonable though, in the tightest possible way of tip-toeing around all the orthodox rules, because by this point not even she wants to deal with what wrath he might bring if she refuses him again. At the end of the day, he owns this town more than anyone else, more than she owns this asylum- regrettably.*

Warden: *He hears a man yelling, and like a dreamstate he simultaneously recognises the voice as his Oncie, and expects it to belong to a very different, much more violent man - because that's the man who would normally be in a locked cell like this with him unable to fight back. It’s confusing as his hearts instinct battles his learned neurological instinct. He curls further, clenching his eyes shut even tighter and reminding himself beneath all the numb and rubbery haze that Oncie is protecting him, Oncie will come for him, and that despite the sound of that powerful voice reminding him of things more dangerous, maybe it’s only so powerful because for once it’s actually protecting him. It does sound a lot like his strong Oncie after all. He’s safe.*

Once-ler: *Pulls in a deep breath and grabs the lapels of his jacket, pulling on them to straighten them. Clears his throat.* I will stay with him here overnight, I will keep the button alarm on me should I need to make anymore requests, no-one is to come near him unless it's for very specific medical reasons I'm unqualified to perform. Food, drink, medication, cleaning, anything else will all be handled by myself, and I want him weaned off the medication ASAP. *He raises an eyebrow.* You better hurry up then.

[The nurses scatter like a flock of pigeons, forgetting for a moment that Dr Zazzerzump needed to give an official before they can, but the Once-ler is right, they do need to hurry up if they want it all done on time. They need to turn the place upside down to avoid his wrath if he’s ready to leave tomorrow at 3pm and they’re late for it. How can the man work so fast when there’s only one of him and he can’t leave a cell? They have an entire team of people but they’re the ones frantically panicking for a deadline.)

Dr Zazzerzump: *Behind her, the doctors and nurses have backed off skittishly and darted off to work, trapped between the demands of two different dangerous animals who could both ruin their lives if they make a wrong move, but the bigger one clearly won. After a pause to collect her thoughts, Dr. Zazzerzump clears her throat and raises her hand to them. They’ve already made up their minds who they’re taking orders from now, but she throws out an official instruction, just to maintain a semblance of composure.* *Clears her throat.* Yes!- Mh.. Do as he says. For 3pm tomorrow.

*They scatter out of the door like spilled marbles, leaving the two alone. Then Dr. Zazzerzump continues.*

Dr. Zazzerzump: *Bitterly* The medication is a temporary sedative; it will wear off by morning and I shall make a note that no further doses will be required. There will be a nurse on call to arrange for overnight accommodations. *Grimaces, but tries to maintain professional. The decision has already been made now, all she can do is go along with it and appear as reasonable as she can to avoid receiving that harsh report.* Should you require anything further, the staff will assist you. Is that everything, Mr. Once-ler?

Once-ler: *Finally seems like he might consider withdrawing his claws the moment people start following his orders, especially when the woman confirms it to her staff. The fact that she doesn’t even question his power, influence or ability to have everything done by tomorrow in order to take Edmund out, goes a long way to placating him. He’d have really started ruining lives, he doesn’t care who the head doctor in this place is, if she’d said something like ‘we can’t guarantee, sir, that the changes you claim to make will be completed by then, if at all, and so signing documents and making preparations for rules that aren’t already in place would be a misdirection of time as well as possibly setting us up for illegal- blah blah blah.’ Good thing they all know when they’re in the jaw of the lion.* Yes. You can leave us alone.

*Dr Zazzerzump leaves with a slight twist in her expression, letting out a silent frustrated, but almost relieved that it’s over, sigh of relief. As she and the rest of the staff move away down the corridor and the door swings shut with a heavy thunk, she can be heard issuing clipped commands to everyone else. She tries not to rush too much, because rushing tends to make mistakes, but these things will move quick.*

Once-ler: *When everyone leaves and they’re finally left in private again, he turns back to Edmund, curled up on the floor, and all the anger sighs out of him (at least for now). Drops back down to his knees and leans over him, places his hand on his shoulder.* Edmund…? *His eyebrows knot up.* Edmund it’s me, they’re all gone.

Warden: *He pulls slightly tighter around himself when he feels the pressure of someone's footsteps on the floor beside him. The pressure on his shoulder doesn't make him jump - it can't – but he feels a spike of fear, in automatic self defence he tries to strike like a cornered rat and bite the hand. In reality though, he just manages to turn slowly and gasp. And then Oncie speaks, and he forgets everything except that his knight in shining armour is here.*

Warden: *He cracks open his eyes and looks up at Oncie, his brow creased with worry, desperate to get himself moving enough to talk but unable to force it.* O-okay. *He needs those bright blue eyes so much, but they're so bright he can barely look at them. His pupils visibly shrink against them. He shuts his eyes tight again with distress, hating the grey and how close he is to everything terrible around him.*

*This is so much. The cogs in his brain try to turn, and he thinks that he wants to break the bad feelings with a joke, or a flippant comment - it's not a conscious thought, but it's what the instincts in him tell him to do. He forces himself to speak again, his voice a hushed whisper.* ...I’m s- I'm really... Really scared.

Once-ler: *Sees the way Edmund almost tries to flinch and his eyebrows knot up harder. He can't even protect himself, it's so sad. Then that recognition comes and he swallows, his stomach fluttering with sad little butterflies but fluttering nonetheless.* I- I know, I know you are. *Sighs out and immediately drops down to wrap his arms around him and bundle him up again. He knew he'd get nowhere asking for them to release him from the straight jacket, not if they won’t even let him have his glasses because he's too unpredictable apparently. He was hoping he might be able to fumble with it himself once alone, but as he hugs him and feels around the back of it, he feels the padlocks and realises that not just anyone outside of the wrapped patient himself is free to mess with it. He mentally sighs, but just becomes more kind and gentle in response.* It's okay if you're scared. *His voice becomes thick but he holds himself together.* It's okay, but you don't have to be scared now, because- because I'm here s- so you're safe, and nothing is going to hurt you or scare you anymore. *Cups his hand around the back of his head and pulls him into his shoulder, and plants a long pressed kiss into his head.*

Warden: *His arms shuffle what little they can in an unconscious attempt to reach out and hold onto Oncie, but the best he can do is curl up as close as he can into the hug. Eyes shut, surrounded by his scent, he listens to the words and slowly translates them - he has to wait for each word to pop into meaning like bubbles from the ocean floor. His body relaxes a little bit, unable to protect himself anymore - no powers, no strength, not even his special filter that means nothing is real and nothing really matters. Suddenly everything matters, and it all wants to hurt him. Except Oncie. He's still here, he didn't leave forever. He sniffs, still tearful, and nuzzles into his shoulder and the thneed still tangled up between them. That kiss sends a wave of relief and love through him, and he realises without surprise that he's crying again. He shuffles again against the jacket, not enough to be considered 'a struggle', but miserably testing what it is. In a slightly thicker voice of his own, he asks,* What did I do? *He's obviously in trouble, he obviously did something, because he's in prison. If he wasn't so addled he'd be mad on his own behalf and flailing about it again, but all he can figure right now is that everyone's upset with him except Oncie, and that doesn't feel great.*

Once-ler: *Opens his eyes wide when he's asked what he did wrong, and he doesn't know how to answer. Even if the Warden wasn't sedated and put up a good fight, he'd crack eventually. He might go feral for a bit, but these people are… ‘trained’ to handle a dangerous, damaged psych patient like him. He's the Warden to himself, he's The Once-ler's soulmate to the man holding him, but the reality is that to them he's just another severe case like so many other names on a list and fading faces in the facility rooms. Their treatment of him is completely wrong, but he’s not a stable man, that’s the reality, and right now there's a lot of reality, there isn't a lot of Edmund. A runt might try to put up a good fight with it's teeth and it's ratty snarls, but in the end it'll still drop down under the teeth of a dog bigger and scarier than it, when it’s adrenaline has worn off and it knows it can’t put up a fight, when it's instincts tell it how small it really is and that it should just conserve it's energy and lie down. Edmund, at his heart, is a meek man. The thought of him being lost here, hiding fearfully in the corner of a room away from the dogs that beat the defences out of him, just like his father did, is the worst nightmare he ever could have conjured up.*

Once-ler: *His arms grip around him tighter, tighter than the jacket, and the way he feels him weakly squirm makes his heart break. He pulls back just enough to see his face, hand still cupping the back of his head, so it isn't heavy for Edmund to hold up.* Ohh... *His eyebrows knot.* It was just... *He doesn't even know what to say. He glances down his body and starts to shuffle them so they can rest against the wall in the corner of the room where it's most secluded.* You must be cold, let me help. *He shuffles up into the corner, carrying his boyfriend slowly with him, and takes the thneed back. He lets him rest between his legs against his front while he stretches out the thneed and turns it into a blanket. His heart is pounding and he's trying to swallow down an emotional lump, then he lays the thneed blanket over Edmund and then shuffles out of his own green tailcoat and lays that over him too to create a second, heavier layer to keep the warmth in. Pressed between Oncie's front, then the thneed and Oncie's weighted jacket, he wraps his arms around him and hugs him to his chest.* There. There, that's better.

Warden: *When Oncie cups his face, he looks up into his eyes as best he can and tries to understand what he did. Deep down, beneath all of his delusions, the current sedatives, the self-denial and the fantasies, he knows he's doing bad things. But if he didn't do those bad things, he'd be doing something even worse by letting down the terrible spirit of his father. To be good he has to be a good prison warden, and a good prison warden is vicious, cruel and controlling. But, because he's always been an empathetic baby, he knows that to be vicious, cruel and controlling makes people hate you and makes you a bad person. He can't win. There is no condition where everyone likes him and is pleased with him, so the only conclusion he has ever been able to come to is that he's just an inherently bad human being. But that's okay if he's louder than everyone else, insists to everyone else that he isn’t until he’s *delusional*, and tries to make them happy occasionally by making things fun. That's why he includes the prisoners in his science fairs and vacations and car races – bad, boring wardens wouldn’t do that, right?*

*His expression breaks, tears filling his eyes as his mouth quivers and devastation spreads across his features. When he was a little boy, the scariest thing in the world was the thought of being abandoned for being bad. Now, here, it feels like reality itself is doing just that - he's been shoved out the way and left behind. He clamps up and tries not to make a sound, in case that's bad too.*

*He's completely pliable as Oncie moves them, trying to help but he can only move his legs and he can't move them much. When they settle, though, and he's covered in layers of warm weight and held all tightly in his protector's arms, reality feels that bit further away and he remembers that he's not been abandoned. Not fully, not by everyone.* *With a little bleat, he nods. It is better. His bare feet push against the cold floor beneath the blankets so that he's pushed against Oncie's front.* *After a moment, he finds the words to say.* Whatever I did... I- I didn't mean to... *That's a lie. But he'd do anything to be kept.*

Once-ler: *Feels his heart break when he sees the tears and tries to catch them with his thumb as he cups his cheek. He hugs him to his front, treasuring him like he's the only teddy-bear his parents have ever been able to afford, and clinging to him like a child hiding from the shadows in a wardrobe. Gasps at his words and whispers.* You didn't- It was an accide- it was a mistake- *He feels distinctly, innocently, devastated and sick to his stomach with guilt and worry, in an almost confused way that a juvenile would. As if he's at fault of doing something so bad to the younger kid living next door, who he often goes out to play with, but it's also his responsibility to take care of. But this time he convinced him to jump into the lake, climb too far up a tree, go too close to a wild animal, and it's his fault now that something terrible happened to him, and he's terrified of being told off by both their mom’s. So he just hides in the woods with him, trying to fix it and not knowing how, and just telling him that he's okay and everything will be fine, but he also feels sick with horror. His voice breaks.* But- but I'm going to fix it- I will! I'll fix it!

*He gasps as tears form in his own eyes and he curls around him. He's letting him down, he can't do anything right, he can't even get him out of this place in a city that be basically owns.* I- I'm so sorry- It's my fault. *His expression breaks down and he pulls him to his front, hooking his head over his shoulder and shaking it with guilt. He's useless. He can't even protect him from his own damn city.* I'm sorry, I'm s- so, so sorry, Edmund. I'm so sorry.

Warden: *He nuzzles against him, drying his tears on Oncie's front and pressing against him for safety until his muscles start to soften - he can't keep the effort up for very long, but he always stays hugged up in his arms. He lets out a soft hiccup when he hears that it was an accident, or a mistake, whatever it was. He can't remember how he ended up here - every memory is fuzzy and indistinct like a dream that fades faster the more he tries to grasp for it - but at least Oncie doesn't blame him. Right now that's the very final thing that matters, like the last star still burning in the sky. Everything else has failed, but Oncie is always there, and he never leaves him.*

*He doesn't quite understand when Oncie says he'll 'fix it'. He doesn't know what there is to fix, because prison is an inevitable force that can't be changed. It's like saying you'll fix a sunset. His eyes crack open again, wet eyelashes fluttering against his boyfriend's neck while his own dears don’t cease.* Hm? *The cogs try to turn again.* W-Why? *His voice is hushed, but it's still his usual loopy, lyrical lisp, with a quiver of sadness.* You're here. *That is the only thing that matters. The only thing.*

Once-ler: *Looks down at him with wet eyelashes too.* Because, well because you're still here too and I think it's my fault you are. *He sniffs and begins wiping the Warden's tears away with his hand, since he can't do it himself.* But- but like I said, I'll fix it. *He makes sure not to talk too quickly, to let the words sink in.* I'm going to take you back home, I'm going to make you feel better. It just- *he hiccups as another tear appears and he wipes it away on his shoulder,* It just won't be right now. But I'm not going anywhere, I'm staying here with you until I can make everything okay again- and then forever after that.

Warden: *He looks up at Oncie with half-lidded eyes, still tight enough in the corners that the middle-aged creases around them are visible, but more relaxed than they have been thus far. He blinks slowly when Oncie wipes his tears away, foggy from the sedatives, believing everything he says because he has no choice but to do so, and trusting him because how could he not? He knows in his heart that nobody should like him enough to be here, but Oncie is because they're in love.*

*His subconscious can't quite believe it when he's told they're going to get out of here, not because he doesn't trust Oncie but because he's never known a reality where a prison wasn't an ultimate and inescapable thing. If he was sober he'd believe him, but he can't right now. However, when he says he'll be with him forever 'after that'... something shifts. To hear that Oncie wants to be with him forever shakes up the foundations he otherwise fully believed in, and the idea that there might be a forever after this suddenly becomes plausible. His eyes widen just a little bit more - even as glassy as they are - and a smile slowly spreads across his face, welling up with hopeful, emotional, grief-stricken tears as raw feeling is able to bleed up through the sedation.* Ye... yeah? *He sounds so hopeful, and with the tone of a soldier wanting someone to keep talking to him as he bleeds out on the battlefield, his chest shuddering with emotional hiccups. Nuzzled up against him, able to feel his heartbeat and bury in his scent, looking up at him and hearing his voice - if he can't have his glasses, he can put a new barrier between himself and the rest of reality.*

Once-ler: *His heart breaks and clutches at the hope in the Warden's voice, seeing him smile makes some ray of hope bloom in him too. Nothing can stop the happiness that the Warden brings to the Once-ler when he smiles, no amount of sedatives or guilt, when the man shows that grin, shows the cute gap in his teeth and has that hope in his eyes, it can’t stop Oncie from smiling back to greet him. As his eyes well up again with painful love at the way the Warden’s overflow, he smiles a little too.* Ye-hes...* He almost sobs out silently, between his quivering, smiling lips. He sniffs, then leans in slowly, gently cups Edmunds cheek to tilt towards him, and presses his lips to his. The kiss lingers in softness, barely any pressure applied but the sentiment still clear. His arms squeeze him tenderly a little bit, and after he pulls away he gazes into his eyes and replies in a low voice.* Yes. I promise.

Warden: *He drinks in Oncie's smile like it's sunlight, fortifying him a little better and feeding that faith that everything is going to be alright. He can't envision what it might look like (which spooks him, because he has a very vivid imagination) but he believes that he'll feel better soon. Like a feedback loop, Oncie's returned smile only makes his bigger too. Then they kiss, and under the sedatives it feels like his stomach has erupted like an underwater volcano, something hot and wild and frantically desperate, dampened by a thick layer of vacuum, but unmistakeably there. It feels like he’s been kissed for the very first time, by the only person he’ll love for the rest of his life. It takes him a second to react before his lips twitch and then he's kissing back too - with a similar light pressure, but still very much a presence. Oncie is here, and Oncie loves him, he’s been saved. They draw back, and he looks up at him with utter trust, wide and glassy-eyed, but believing in him as the most powerful force of nature to exist. His eyes might be foggy, but his smile shines through for him.*

Once-ler: *Pulls away from the kiss and adores the smile on Edmunds face. He desperately needs that belief- because no-one else has ever believed in him. Strokes his thumb over his cheek as he cups his face and he gazes into his eyes, wiping away some more tears for his boyfriend. His eyebrows knot up as he blinks his own away and he sighs out sadly.* My little bunny... *Kisses his forehead again and tilts his head in concern, squinting his own eyes as if trying to stop them from being so bright, because he knows they're bright for the Warden without his glasses.* Do your eyes hurt?

Warden: *The combination of Oncie's gentle handling, the safe weight of the covers and the kind tone of his voice softens the Warden's body until he's a warm, heavy weight against his front. He still squints as he looks up into Oncie's eyes, but he doesn't want to lose him by shutting his own.* *It takes him a moment to translate the question, especially since he's still glowing over the kind and loving pet-name, but then he replies quietly,* Mmhmm... a little. *He doesn't care anymore, though. As long as his world is so small that it's only the two of them, he can survive even if they do ache.* I-it's okay.

Once-ler: *Eyebrows knot up in sympathy.* I can't get your glasses but- *Reaches up above his top hat where his sunglasses rest on his head and takes them, while also removing his hat and placing it down.* You can wear mine if it makes you more comfortable. *He helps him try them on, knowing that they're not yellow lenses so can't make anything warmer, but they are dark and so might helps soothe some of the brightness or overwhelming peripheral vision. The weight of glasses on his face might also just provide something of a placebo effect, who knows?* Does that feel better, or no?

Warden: *He watches with glassy docility as Oncie places the glasses on his face, and as darkness falls over his vision he blinks in curiosity. Then the unseen tension in his shoulders relax and the lines around his eyes soften. That feels much better - even if they still aren't right and don't make him feel like he's in his own little fantasy world, he does at least have the separation and some rest for his weak eyes.*

*He smiles up at him from behind his sunglasses, looking quite the picture in his colourless hospital clothes, restraints, and Oncie's sunglasses.* Much better. *He shuffles against him, unable to inch any closer but just wanting to feel the action of drawing nearer to him anyway.* Thank you... *He thanks him as innocently as a child knowing to be polite, but with all the love they share together.*

Once-ler: *Gently smiles when he sees that it's made him feel somewhat better.* Good~ *Leans down and kisses his forehead.* You're welcome. *His stomach squirms as he feels Edmund shift and for a moment wonders if he's uncomfortable, but then he settles against him.* They suit you. *He says with a quiet chuckle, wanting to ease some tension with a playful compliment.

Warden: *Blinks at Oncie with his own, slightly delirious, giggle. He looks up at him with endless gratitude, even just for the slight attempt at play with the compliment, because any amount of play is a good distraction away from bad feelings for the Warden.*

Once-ler: *He smiles back with depth behind his gaze. His heart then skips a beat as he thinks about saying it again, and maybe hearing it back, although he wouldn't worry if he doesn't because knows now that he's capable of it at least. His arms squeeze around him gently, lovingly and he mumbles by his ear.* I love you.

Warden: *He's so glad he's squeezed back, too. He wants that tangible sense of being as close as possible, so his senses are full with the fact that he's protected - because it's really spooky being unable to do anything to defend himself. When he hears those three words again, his body rises with a deep breath of relief and a rush of giddy - if woozy - happiness. Hearing those words still doesn't feel real, those words never applied to him before this man came along, and on some foggy level he understands that even now in all this bad feeling Oncie still wants him enough to be here and say that. Emotion rises in the back of his throat and for a moment his heart flutters. He loves him too.*

*He wants to say those words back. In the addled and muzzy confusion of the past few hours, he's not sure if he's ever been able to or not, but those are also dangerous words that might mean something very bad happens if he says them out loud. He doesn't want to bring down an axe on Oncie right when they're at their weakest, but at the same time he wants to say it so bad.* I-I... *He swallows, then quickly nods as a lump rises in his throat. Silently, he begs Oncie to understand.*

Once-ler: *His hand rises into the Warden's hair and he strokes his fingers through it. He smiles as he watches him try to reply, and doesn't force him, the fact that he's trying to is proof enough, it always has been. His stomach flutters and he leans down to press his lips against his head. He adds quietly when the Warden stops himself.* I know.

Warden: *He's so relieved to hear that Oncie doesn't need him to say it. If he did, the pressure would be too much, especially right now, and he wouldn't know what to do to make it go away. As it is, rather than struggle with the darkness, he's able to float in his arms, and even though he's far from home and can't move his body and doesn't know what to do, he's still kind of cosy. Even a little bit happy.*

*A few moments ago, he said those words because he wasn't sure if he'd ever see Oncie again, and if Oncie was getting away from him then... he was escaping, so maybe he'd hear them and wouldn't be hurt. That was the thought process, the desperation, that managed to coax those words out of him. As he clings to his soulmate's front as best he can, calmer and more aware that they're both here and both 'in danger', he isn't sure they have that freedom. A big man with an axe might enter at any moment. But somehow he still feels like Oncie might be a bigger man. He tilts his head closer to Oncie's chest and says very quietly, forcing the words forward,* A-are we safe?

Once-ler: *His hand comes round and clutches his head protectively when he feels him tilt towards his chest, and when he asks that question he opens his mouth to reply, but then a quick knock taps against the door and the sound of locks clicking with keys echoes through. His attention flicks to it and his grip tightens around Edmund, not to worry him but to make him aware he's protected. He stares towards the incoming sound like a wolf ready to pounce with sharp eyes, ready to snarl at the threat. But he suddenly remembers to collect himself.*

*The knock isn't so much of a request to enter as it is a warning someone is entering, the kind of half assed knock an aged mother gives on her teenage sons bedroom door before sweeping in to dump a pile of laundry on the bed. It's not so much of a knock and entry as it is two hard taps and the immediate creak of the metal hospital door as it sweeps open and white light floods through. An older, plumper woman enters with a younger nurse by her side. The former has been a carer for forty years, the latter didn't want to come back here alone.*

Older nurse: Evenin' Mr. Once-ler, sorry to disturb, but we've brought the overnight stuff by instruction of Dr. Zazzerzump. *She has bags under her eyes, her voice is nasally and she speaks her words with a slow drawl. She's a chunky, round figure and is the type of old nurse who has changed so many bedpans over the years that nothing disgusts or surprises her anymore. Although some patients occasionally do, including this one, but she's good at brushing it off and getting on with her job.* C'mon Lissie! *She enters further into the room holding a large roll of bedding like a lady Viking shifting a boulder. Lessie, a younger, fairly new nurse shuffles in hesitantly after her with pillows.* Do you want it assem-ba-lin' for you, Sir?

Warden: *Suddenly there's noise and voices and loud rattling, and it hits him all wrong because his brain can't process things properly right now. If he was by himself he'd panic and fear would strike and thrash him at them like a prey animal caught in a net. Flinching at and away from them somewhere between impulsive attempts to snap defensively and simply shriek from fright- or, that's what he'd think he'd be doing. In reality the sedative is too much to let him do anything shake out of fear and try to hiss. But his instincts are different now that there's someone else to take care of him, a bigger predator able to fight for him, and so that panicked, protective aggression doesn't trigger. Instead, he's just terrified and begging for rescue. He yelps at the sudden noise, and instinctively dives further against Oncie as if he were trying to dig himself into the ground. His body can be felt to begin to shake, and his hands tighten under his restraints as he grips onto himself in an automatic attempt to protect his organs. He lets out a small sound of fear and manages to dig his heel into the ground and shove himself as hard as he can into Oncie's arms, trying to hide in him like a deer hiding between the legs of a stag.*

Once-ler: *Is frowning towards the noise, but he blinks at the Warden's sudden rustling and hiding and feels his heart clutch in his chest as the same rate his hands clutch around him. His gaze snaps towards the door, now not so furious because things are more in his control and he has his soulmate back in his arms, but still protective. He assumes it's nurses returning to drop off the overnight accommodations he was promised, but Edmund doesn't have enough comprehension of what's happening to understand that's all this is. He pulls him into his front, hiding his face in his chest as he holds his hand against the back of his head and pulls their makeshift covers up a little more over him. He feels the shaking and hears the sound, and as his stomach clenches he can't help but whisper down to him that he's okay. Then he orders at the women.* No, just drop them down there and go. I'll do them myself.

Warden: *He's tense - really, really tense - as he grits his teeth and tries to block out the fact that reality is once again intruding on his world just when it was starting to arrange itself in a tiny little bubble he could kind of begin to handle. He was okay, for a second when it was just them. But the noise leaves him exposed to the real world again, to people who threaten everything about him. Even them just looking at him means he's not The Warden, which is the only thing his mind can deal with.*

*He's not sure if he'll end up bending his sunglasses with the force he's putting on them as he buries himself in Oncie's front. His arms shove, just once, in a panicked attempt to grab around his boyfriend's waist or flail at oncoming danger, but it's not strong and the jacket prevents anything from really happening. He can hear his breathing squeak, but he does at least calm a little bit when he hears Oncie talk to him. He stops his minute attempts at struggling, though his heart still flutters and he still freezes against him like a rabbit caught in an open field.*

Older Nurse: *Shrugs and drops the things on the floor. Lissie does the same, dropping down the pillows and a bag containing some overnight supplies. She grumbles on her way out barely heard.* A 'thank you' would be nice… Young men these days-

Nurse Lessie: *Nudges the older nurse and points over to the Warden. Whispers to her.* Nurse Julie, is that allowed?

Warden: *He doesn't really follow what they're saying, but he recognises the tones enough to hear when they drop the things on the floor - which makes him jump anyway - and start to leave. He begins to soften, just a little, but then they start talking again and he kicks at the ground beneath the covers and whispers Oncie's name in the smallest voice, begging him to make them go away.*

Once-ler: *He feels the pressure against him and doesn't care if his sunglasses are bent so long as they don't end up hurting the Warden himself. The kicking and the little whisper of his name only makes that anger surge up harder because now he's responding to his soulmates fear and feels anxious to defend his space. He just made a warm nest for him and they're invading it.*

Nurse Julie: *Huffs and looks over with her hand on her hips, adjusting her own glasses when she notices the new ones on the Warden.* Sir, I can't say that won't count as contraband like his own if he's-

Once-ler: *Is currently hooking his chin over the Warden's head and stroking his back with his hand under the coat and thneed. He rolls his eyes and snaps at her, the demand barked and final.* Just get out.

Warden: *Flinches at the sudden loud voice, his common sense even more inhibited with the sedatives and therefore his learned behaviour responds instinctively with a flinch to the shout of the angry man. But a split second later, he recognises the voice as his Oncie, which makes sense because the shout was very close and Oncie is hugging him right now, and that flinch immediately settles because he knows he’s being protected. Oncie is so powerful and has such a presence, he’d recognise that voice of his anywhere, it’s the voice that shows strength and makes demands around Superjail despite everything. Even in the jaws of Superjail, Oncie is still a force to be reckoned with. For some reason, that foggy thought almost makes his throat close up.*

Nurse Julie: *Rolls her eyes and shrugs as she turns and then leads Lessie out of the room.* There, that's your answer. *They close it all back up and leave them in peace.*

The Once-ler: *Once the women are gone, his attention immediately turns back to the man in his arms, even if a part of him is still watching their surroundings so that Edmund knows someone is.* Hey, hey, it's okay, they're gone. *He curls around him and rubs his lips against his head, speaking in a softer voice.* You're safe now.

Warden: *He's shaking like a leaf when the door shuts, eyes clenched shut, and realising beneath everything that he's in a really, really bad place, and that for him to be in this really bad place, something really has gone wrong. A certain existential understanding falls over him, but he doesn't have the processing power to handle it. He's actually in trouble. This is a situation that might not just go away like a sickness or a nightmare, but this might mean his life has really changed permanently. His eyes fly open and he looks up at Oncie like he's desperate to see something other than the terrible world he's landed himself in, and he whispers the word that signals that he wants everything to stop. His white flag, his safe-word, the sign that he wants to be in his bed now, and for the ride to stop so he can get off.* I'm sorry. *His voice is barely audible, but his expression is a mask of anguish. He pants with the appearance of falling into a pain-induced panic.* I'm so sorry.

Once-ler: *The shaking only makes him grip harder, as if it might keep him stable, especially at the way Edmund tries to hug for him but just can't. All he can do is hold him back with more strength, and at the least it keeps him warm so the chill doesn't make the shaking worse. Then he feels him lift his head and so he looks back down to him, and that expression of complete, traumatised surrender breaks his heart so hard that it makes him gasp out loud. Then those words come, and he loses his own. He doesn't know what to say, he feels his tongue go cold with a kind of horrified nausea. He shakes his head, eyes wide with knotted eyebrows as he gazes into his eyes and tries to just understand what he means.*

*Something in his expression, in his eyes, is telling him and he thinks he might just see the existential anguish in them. He just wants it to stop, he knows he's been bad - because he's in a bad place, and that's how he knows it works - but he doesn't quite know or remember what he's done. But he feels it, and he'll just apologise for anything, to anyone, to hope it might make the pain go away, that it might stop the punishment. When has he ever offered that grace to anyone himself? Maybe he doesn't even know it's an option, which makes this even more devastating if it's just a broken last cry for help that he knows is hopeless. Nevertheless, what he begs for is a thing that, in his childhood and world view, has always been nothing but an inconceivable idea that’s as real as the Easter bunny. That thing is mercy.*

*He sighs out a shuddering pained breath and cups his face gently with his hand.* Ohh... Bunny... *He swallows, feeling a small lump in his throat. He can only think of one thing to say, whether or not it's appropriate to come from him. None of this seems personal, none of it seems specific, it's all just highly emotional and much like Edmund will say anything to make the punishment end, Oncie will say whatever he needs to hear to ease him in this moment.* I forgive you. *He pulls him into his shoulder and curls around him, his knees coming up even more to cradle him.* You're forgiven. I can't make the bad things stop right now but I can promise you that you're not in trouble, not with me. You were never in trouble with me. *He kisses the side of his head a few times* And I'm staying here, and as long as I'm here with you, you're in a place where you're not in danger, you're not in trouble and you're not being punished, even if you're upset and hurting.

Warden: *His wide eyes stare up through the sunglasses and lock onto Oncie's, desperate for them. When his hand cups his face, he tilts into it so that his cheek is slightly smushed by his palm, a sliver of his teeth visible between parted lips, and big, terrified eyes filling with tears. When Oncie says those words, for a moment his world stops. His eyes can't pull any wider, but his breath pauses and something settles deep down in him - the little motor that had been driving him to higher and higher panic, telling him that he was in trouble and to run. When he hears that he's forgiven, it starts to very carefully melt down.*

*He's pulled in, and again he tries to hard to hug back but the best he can do is press against him and nuzzle into his warm embrace. His eyes don't shut but they do tighten as tears fall again, and he watches Oncie from the hug like he doesn't dare turn away and find out that he's a figment of a dream. He hears Oncie tell him that he's not in trouble, that he's never been in trouble with Oncie, and that he's going to stay here. That he's not in danger and he's not going to be hurt even though he doesn't feel good. A little bleat splutters out of him as he absorbs those kisses, needing them so badly.*

*'Forgiveness' has never been a word in the Warden's vocabulary. In day-to-day life, sure, he'll forgive a slight. He'll forgive his friends for mistakes and accidents, or deliberately pretend they don't hate him if they do something that hurts, but that's not mercy. Mercy is different. He's never once granted mercy to a prisoner without an ulterior motive. The only other time he ever showed mercy was when he dared to feed that puppy, and they both know what happened after that. Justice and mercy are two sides of the same coin, but he's never flipped his over. His father never flipped it over either - all he's ever known is black-and-white punishment for crimes. Mercy is ‘cheating’, as his Father would think. But he's so scared, and he'd do anything to make the fear go away. He'll cheat if he has to, not realising that he's not 'cheating', but genuinely crying out for help because his mind and sanity are still fighting for a shred of survival and he’s too small and weak to do it himself. His whisper of those words might as well be a scream from a burning building.*

Once-ler: *He doesn't realise that what the Warden’s psychology really reads is him granting him mercy, although that is the truth to what Oncie is offering him. Because as Edmund begs the universe for mercy in his moment of pain, the universe has granted it to him in the form of The Once-ler. Out of everything around him, this is the kind offering, the acceptance of the white flag, the hearing of the safe word and the offer to help cease the pain. That doesn't mean he can change the rest of his situation, but one corner of this situation is merciful. He does consciously know forgiveness however. He knows guilt and he knows how much freedom forgiveness can bring a person, because he knows that he himself would still be in a terrible place had the Lorax not forgiven him for all he'd done.*

Warden: *After a moment, he gives a pitiful nod. With a wet, little laugh he nuzzles his nose into his neck. He's still scared, but as Oncie insists on those promises, the dread begins to lift. He plants a gentle kiss against him.*

The Once-ler: *That lump in his throat grows as he sees the Warden's reaction, but he stays strong, his stomach flutters at the gentle kiss against him and he bundles him up in a little squirm. They couldn't be closer but he still wants him to feel cuddled.* You're safe, Edmund, it's just you and me, and nothing can hurt you when I'm with you. *His voice is low and soft and he kisses his head again.* I love you. *He pulls back just enough to look at him and cup his face, he smiles softly, wiping a tear from his cheek with his thumb.* And in a moment I'm going to wrap us up in that soft blanket, lie us down in the pillows, and we're going to cuddle up together all night. Now that doesn't sound much like punishment, huh?

Warden: *The fear leaves him in layers, each one peeling away or falling to dust, one-by-one as Oncie handles him so tenderly. The existential dread leaves him first, as Oncie promises him that he's not in trouble and reminds him that even if he's uncomfortable, he's not going to be harmed by anyone so long as he's here. Beneath that is an animal tension, ready to spring and try to run or try to defend himself, or cry for help as his instincts prepare for a wolf attack. He's so vulnerable, and he knows it, that he's been flooding himself with adrenaline that's been battling the sedatives in his bloodstream for what must be hours. As he's cuddled up and as Oncie gives him a warm place to curl, as he kisses him and cups his face and says he'll always protect him, that slowly falls away as well.*

*Soon he's left only with the fear at the very bottom of it all, that will probably not go away until they get out of this place. That fear is manageable - it's just an undercurrent of knowledge that he hasn't got his shield and that life is scary and that he's not in Superjail anymore, and that can be carried so long as he's not left by himself. As long as Oncie is handling everything else, he can handle that.*

*It takes him a second for Oncie's words to sink through the fog, but then he nods with a weary, relieved smile, even a little chuckle in his voice.* Mmhmm~ *The smile pushes a final tear down his cheek and over Oncie's thumb, and he blushes ever-so-slightly pink when he's told that he loves him. Soft blankets and a warm bed sound very good right about now.*

Once-ler: *Lets out a soft, loving hum of laughter that's only just audible. His own chest doesn't feel quite as panicked anymore even though he still wants to get Edmund out of here as fast as possible. He's accepted what he can't change and is focusing in what he can control, and now that he can tell his boyfriend's heart rate is calming down, his own is relaxing too and becomes a calm thud against Edmund's front. A hand slides into his hair and he pulls him gently down under his chin and rests his lips against his head as he softly draws his fingertips through his hair in rhythmic circles. He loves him, more than anything in the world, he loves him, so even if Edmund couldn't be released in some ridiculous universe where the Once-ler doesn't get what he wants, he'd stay here in this room with him for an eternity. He whispers.* We'll stay here a moment and then I'll sort the bed out, okay? *He kisses his head, and just so soothe him a little more, he starts to slowly hum a little jingle he once made up about Thneeds and how everybody needs one.*

Warden: *His eyes close as Oncie's hand slides into his hair, his senses still trying to be alert for danger but failing as a sense of comfort, of utter relief, overwhelms him. He curls up under his partner's chin as he's guided, and a few more tears fall down his face - healing tears after a long day fraught with terror, rather than the cry for help they were before. He makes a soft sound that he understands, when Oncie tells him he'll move in a moment to get things sorted, and the softest, most musical little laugh escapes him when he hears that jingle. If he's playing, they really must be okay.*

*The fear fades as his world becomes encapsulated in the Once-ler's arms, and the emotions rush in slowly but surely, like an avalanche of honey. He adores this man. He needs him more than he has ever needed anything else, because he's saving him - not just protecting him like his glasses or his prison. His lips quiver with just how intensely and just how truly those emotions hit, and after a moment he pushes his face into Oncie's neck to whisper words that would normally be so terrifying but right now feel like the only things that matter.* I-I... *His voice is so quiet, not wanting the universe to hear his confession of guilt and weakness, because these words were always treated like that's what they were. But if Oncie has the power to make even mercy exist, then maybe he’s right, maybe his Father was also wrong about those three words. He said them already, in a fit of desperation that he only half-understands, but he says them now like it's a secret he's privileged to keep.* …*He takes a soft, deep breath and pushes himself harder into his arms.* I-I love you...

Once-ler: *He's happily curled around his boyfriend, loving the way he nestles into his neck and starts to calm down. When he starts to speak, he thinks he's about to try and ask or say something else; it's only when he actually says the words that it surprises him.*

*He wasn't expecting to hear the response, but he realises that Edmund finally feels safe enough to say it, because he's here with him. His chest clutches, time slows down again and he feels a lump in his throat that makes emotional, incredulous tears appear in his eyes again. He sniffs and lets out a quiet breath of laughter, grinning from ear to ear. His heart can be felt racing, hammering in his chest with a rush of joy and excitement despite the terrible circumstances they're in. This could be the most happiest he's felt in a long time, despite them both being in the most awful nightmare, all because he adores this man more than life itself and the man has the courage to tell him the same, finally. He sniffs and leans in, nuzzling his nose just under his cheek to gently tilt his face like a kind, larger animal shifting a smaller one.* I love you too, Bunny.

*He meets his lips and they press together, his own parting slightly and softly to linger against his with a few nuzzling smooches, as his arms squeeze around him with the same strength of push that Edmund presses into him. He doesn't overwhelm him, but he does consume his meekness with affection and adoration, surrounding him with his arms and capturing his lips like a flurry of flowers blooming against his skin. He tilts his head into it and lets out a soft sigh as a tear rolls down his cheek. As he pulls away he gazes into the Warden's eyes, the pair of them both tear-filled over their love for each other and he smiles. He grins and whispers* I love you too.

Warden: *It takes a moment, but when Oncie kisses him his lips respond in kind, his heart beating like a fluttering bird in the cage of his ribs, and his cheeks blooming with more colour. They part just a little bit and brush against him, as slow and earnest as a leaf bending for the sun. He bends with the gentle, primal nudge of his face, and dares to crack open his eyes to gaze up at him. The corners of his mouth weakly pull into a broad smile, all the more quavering but all the happier when they're said to him again.*

*He's so happy to hear those words returned, because even though he's certain of their love, he isn't certain about those words, and there's always a chance that they could magically make everything terrible if he's heard to say them out loud. Oncie's voice, however, is bigger than his is, and it's like he drowns out all the threats and dangers that start to clamour for his mind the moment he says the same thing.*

The Once-ler: *The Once-ler closes his eyes and pulls Edmund under his chin again, he begins pressing repeated kisses into his head and around his face, slowly and softly so he's not overwhelmed, but showering him in love still, and holding him like he's the most valuable thing the Once-ler has ever worked so hard to earn. And then, he rests his cheek on his head, safely tucked under his chin, within the warm comfort of his makeshift covers. They rest in the moment, they can face the world again together tomorrow, right now, all that matters is that they’re back together and nothing will pull the Once-ler’s greatest treasure from his greedy, loving hands.*

Warden: *He closes his eyes as he's tucked under Oncie's chin, his whole body melting against him, relying on him entirely to bear his weight. That is, until Oncie starts to push those gentle kisses into his head and face, his drugged senses reading that movement as he would a flurry of kisses if he were at his best. His feet give a very weak and heavy kick of delight as a breathy, lyrical laugh falls from him, delighted at so much fuss and adoration. The Once-ler came back for him, and that’s the only thing that matters. He's loved, and he loves, and even though everything seems to have gone wrong, and even though the whole world seems to hate him right now, and even though the loud, angry, scary voice in his head would disagree, that love is the only thing that matters.*

#the-once-ler-in-superjail #superjail #the once-ler #the warden #the lorax #wardler #wardenler #comic #asylum #chapter 36 #comic update #part 2 #thneedville

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darkwolf989 · 3 days

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Omg do you know the Valentino x reader period pains thing can you do that but with vox's teenage daughter like how would he react straight panic. Most men in the 50's didn't know anything really about period cramps or periods in general. So he probably not know much besides what Vel talks about. I can imagine him doing the wtf which one do I get her in the store thing so he buys everything lol.

Another super fun request! Enjoy!

Vox stared at the shelves in a mixture of embarrassment and confusion. His gaze fell from the shelves to the list, and back again. So many colors, and why was one woman playing volleyball? He cursed himself for not simply putting Velvette’s requests on the list and pushing it off. How was he supposed to know this could happen in the middle of the night?

“Dad? Dad, I need help. I think I’m dying.”

Vox had heard his daughter's voice from across his bedroom. He instantly sat up and turned on the bedside light, swung his legs over the side of the bed and hurried to her.

“What’s the matter baby?” He asked frantically.

“My belly hurts, and I’m bleeding,” she sobbed. “Daddy, what’s wrong with me?”

He felt a cold chill and sheer panic settle through him as he noticed the bright red stains on her pajama pants. No, she couldn’t be. She couldn’t have her period already, right? She was only thirteen. God, he was so not ready for this.

“You’re not dying babydoll, come on. We need to go see your Aunt Velvette,” he said as calmly as he could. “Come on now, follow me.” He put a hand on her shoulder and guided her down the hallway. He pounded on Velvette’s door. “Vel? Vel get up! We need you!”

He heard frantic footsteps and the door swung open.

“Vox you better have a damn good reason to-” Velvette cut herself off mid sentence at the sight of reader. “Oh. Yep, that’s a good reason. Come in honey, go to my bathroom. I need to talk to your dad for a moment. You’re okay, I promise.”

Vox watched as his daughter walked across the room and vanished behind closed doors. He turned to Velvette, who was scribbling something down on a pad of paper.

“Vel, you still good to handle this?” He asked cautiously. “I just-”

“Vox, it's the middle of the night. I told you ages ago to have housekeeping order the supplies she needs and you put it off. Now you need to go to the store yourself while I convince sweet reader she isn’t about to kick the bucket,” Velvette grumbled as she ripped the paper off the pad and handed it to Vox. “Everything you need is on that list. You’re going to have to go out and buy it right now.”

Vox felt himself flush with embarrassment. This was a female issue- it shouldn’t involve him.

Velvette gave him a look. “If you had listened to me in the first place, we wouldn’t be in this situation would we? Now shoo.”

Now here he stood, with a list of what he firmly believed were made up words. What exactly was a “tampon” anyway? Or a “thin panty liner”?

“Excuse me sir, do you need any help?” A cheerful voice came from behind him.

Vox whirled around. He could feel his face turn even more red as he thrust the list towards the unsuspecting sales girl.

“I..I need these. I mean, I don’t need them. My daughter needs them. I just…”

The sales girl seemed unphased. “How old is your daughter?”

“Thirteen.”

“Okay! She needs this, and this, and this…” she loaded the items into his cart. “Easy enough! Extra chocolate too, might be a nice thing to do.”

Vox could only nod and add an extra bar of chocolate to the cart. To his relief, she packaged everything up in discrete brown paper bags. As he swiped his card, he wondered why such a necessary product was priced so ridiculously high.

When he got back to the apartment, he knocked on Velvette’s door. She stuck her head out and took the bags.

“I woke up Val and he’s making hot cocoa. We’ll join you two in a few minutes. Now shoo.” She slammed the door in his face.

Vox resigned himself to the kitchen. He took a seat at the table and buried his attention in his phone as Valentino stood at the stove in his pajamas, stirring the hot chocolate pot.

“How are you, amicito?” He asked. “Big day for our little princessa.”

Vox groaned. “Can we not talk about it?”

“I think you need to get with the times. Your little girl needs you,” Valentino replied easily. “So get over yourself.”

Vox raised an eyebrow and looked over to him. “You’re not freaked out about this?”

Valentino shrugged. “Why should I be? Our little girl is simply growing up. If you treat her like the plague she will feel shame- and that’s the last thing we want, right?”

Vox considered. He hadn’t thought about it that way, how his reaction to what was admittedly a natural event, might affect her.

“Do you think she knows I’m…”

Valentino cut him off. “I think you did just the right thing, bringing her to Vel.”

“Here she is!” Velvette’s voice called through the kitchen. “Officially a young lady!”

Reader flushed and looked down. “Not…it’s not that big a deal I guess.”

“Oh, baby princessa, it is.” Valentino said as he ladeled the hot chocolate into a mug and added whipped cream. “The heating pad is all set on the couch. Remote is yours.”

“Thanks Uncle Val,” she mumbled as she made her way out to the living room.

“What’s wrong with her?” Vox asked with concern.

Both Valentino and Velvette looked at him with a mix of annoyance and shock. From the living room, the television blared top volume. All three recognized the theme to her favorite show.

“She hurts, she’s bleeding for the first time and she’s embarrassed about it,” Velvette answered. “Even though I told her there was nothing to be ashamed of. It’s normal.”

“So, what do I do?” Vox asked. “How do I help her?”

“You love her, and give her chocolate and give her a bit of grace if she’s crabby. Her hormones are all over the place,” Velvette replied. “And for god sake, get over yourself.”

Vox winced. He didn’t want to think about his daughter having hormones, or growing up. He knew it was a fact of life, but what he wouldn’t give to be unaware of it. Valentino handed him a cup of cocoa and he took a sip. He watched as Velvette flopped down on the couch next to his daughter.

“She’s going to grow up, Vox. You can’t stop it,” Valentino warned.

“I know I can’t,” Vox replied tiredly. “But I’m not ready to lose my little girl.”

Valentino gave him an irritated look. “What are you talking about? She’s still your little girl- she always will be. And right now she needs her family to support her,” he replied as he turned and left the kitchen.

Vox sighed as he watched Val collapse on the other side of the couch. He could barely make out their chatter. After a moment, he stood up and joined them and took the seat next to reader. Concern flooded his face as he looked at his daughter. She looked pale, paler than usual.

“How are you feeling, babygirl?” He asked. He reached over and brushed the hair out of her eyes, the palm of his hand lingering on her forehead for a moment. Was it him, or did she feel warm?

“I’m okay, Daddy, just tired,” she replied quietly. “My tummy hurts. Can I go to bed?”

“Of course you can, princess,” he replied as he pulled his hand away. “I’ll be in to check on you in a bit.”

She climbed off the couch and wrapped him in a hug. “Night night, Daddy.”

“Goodnight baby.” He replied.

She did the same with Valentino and Velvette before trudging back to her room. He heard the door close and looked to Velvette.

“She felt warm, is that normal?”

Velvette rolled her eyes. “You know what? Figure it out on your own. I’m going to bed.”

“Not a bad idea to do some research, amicito,” Valentino added as he stood up. “If nothing more than to help our little princessa.”

Vox watched them both retreat back to their rooms before shutting off the lights and returning to his own bed. He pulled out his phone and hesitated for just a moment. Breaking free of the ideas that he had been so held to in life was uncomfortable to say the least. But at the same time, he felt he owed it to his little girl to at least try to understand what she was going through. And he was willing to do whatever was necessary to make sure he was the best dad he could be.

Even if it meant figuring out exactly how to handle a period.

#the vees #valentino x reader #valentino x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin fluff #vox x reader #the vees x reader #valentino #hazbin hotel vox #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #valentino hazbin hotel #vox #voxval #hazbin hotel valentino #velvette x reader #hazbin velvette #hazbin hotel velvette

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manicpixiefelix · 22 hours

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they stare at me (and i stare at you) {Felix Catton/Reader}

one. i saw you kept your gaze controlled

Summary: It's Orientation Week at Oxford and Felix is excited to experience everything university life has to offer him. Mostly socially. Almost all of his peers, thankfully, seem to be on the same wavelength as him, except you. Fine, if you wanted to take yourself too seriously, you could do it far away from him, he thinks. At least, that's what he thinks at first.

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. Reader is the Acting CEO of their family's International Media and Telecommunications Empire. There will be smut in future chapters (see masterpost for more details/warnings). You & Felix are both 19.

This is technically an AU of my long running fic head, heart, hand. but can be read 100% on its own. No prior information from that fic is necessary going into this at all.

{ masterpost }

A/N: 1787 words. Hi! Excited to finally be publishing the first part of this!! Updates will be slow, but I've already got about 20k written from all around the timeline so I just need to piece everything together. This takes place in Felix's first year of Uni so this fic won't feature Oliver. If you like it, or have thoughts about it, I'd love to hear from you!

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

----

There's a novel charm, Felix considers, about moving into the Oxford dormitories, even if the hallowed halls echo his own home more than most other students.

During orientation, he makes friends easily, all warm smiles and sincere laughter; people have always flocked to Felix. Part of it is his natural charm, but he's never been above exploiting his looks while putting his best foot forward in situations like these. His outfits are always on trend and on brand, and he spends longer in the mirror than he'd ever admit to another living soul.

It was a breeze to make friends of his peers, the people in his course - business, at his parents suggestion - the people in his dorm, anyone he really came across who felt like giving him the time of day. Everything always seemed to reinforce what he already knew; Felix Catton was a born people-person, there was nothing that could shake his confidence in that fact. Well there wasn't anything, until he met you.

In all honesty, Felix's first impression of you was that you were strangely familiar, but ultimately rather dull.

During that orientation week, he'd gotten himself to all of the introductory workshops to his course that the University had set up for students to meet their classmates and get an overview of their degrees. At every single one, you were there, hanging back, rather quiet, seeming preferring to observe the rest of your peers unless your input was specifically called for. Again, your name rang a bell to him, but you were a non-event otherwise as he focused on getting to know the people who seemed far more eager to engage. At best, you were simply a standoffish prick at the back of the room who always felt the need to wear fucking business casual to decidedly casual casual workshops.

Once, he overhears a guy he thinks is named Benji asking if he'd seen you at the club that night. Though your smile is barely a smile, more a suggestion of amusement rather than anything else, your tone is sharp and bright.

"Of course I'll be there."

"Looking forward to it," Benji grins, before heading off in the opposite direction. Felix realises he's been caught eavesdropping when your gaze meets his. He's not quite sure how to react, not to the conversation he'd overheard, nor to the curious look you're now giving him. Instead of calling him out, or even saying anything at all, you nod to him once, and take off in the direction of the dining hall.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Felix finds himself at the club that had been catering to the first years every night this week so far. He drinks, he has a good time, and he ends up going home with a pretty girl studying Chemistry, but he didn't recognise anyone there to be you.

More and more he starts seeing you around campus, or maybe it just feels like that now that you've caught his attention. Did you always have people around you or did he not notice you amongst some of the people he'd started to befriend. Our maybe he hasn't reconsidered you because he'd never seen you properly smile like that before. Everywhere Felix saw you, you were amongst friends, sometimes even one or two of his. It was never opportune moments, however, he always seemed to be on his way to or from something. He felt like he never got the opportunity to properly meet you.

Until it's eleven o'clock on a Friday night, and he hears your voice coming from around the side of one of the dorms as he was on his way to celebrate the last day of orientation week with the rest of the first years.

"- yeah, no, I know it was Decker," you sounded annoyed, and when Felix investigates, he sees you leaning against the wall by the entrance to a dorm building, phone to your ear, smoking a cigarette. Except if he hadn't just heard your voice, he'd barely be able to tell it was you; why the hell would you choose to live your life in business casual when you could look this damn good? "Because Decker's been a pain in my ass ever since -" whoever was on the other end of your call cut you off and you sighed deeply, pinching your brow out of frustration, "yeah, I just need this pulled before it can get to print for Monday," you sighed. Stubbing your cigarette out on the wall, you ducked down to pick up a dark bottle that had been hidden in the bushes by your feet.

Felix doesn't know exactly why he keeps watching, but he's fascinated. He can't look away.

"I emailed you a bunch of ads for charities we could run in its place, pick one, stick it in, it's on me, it's my good deed for the day- no, tonight!" You insisted, scowling, before you took a sip of your drink, rebuffing whoever is protesting on the other end of the line, "I'd rather the page be fucking blank- because we're not printing a homophobic hit piece on Portia De Rossi a week after she comes out!" You argued, before you sighed deeply, adding, "or ever, fucking obviously." Then, frustrated, "of course Decker fucking okayed it, you saw the shit he wrote about Rosie O'Donnell back before I -" but again, you were cut off, "I told him to cut that shit out the moment-" you took another drink, furious, "no, first thing Monday I'm having words with him." There's a terse goodbye, and your phone clicks shut, and Felix suddenly feels like he's snapping out of a trance.

"Can I help you with something?" You snapped suddenly, seemingly to no-one. Felix feels his heart rate pick up nervously. It only spikes hire when your head turns to look at him. Your gaze is ice fucking cold. You take another drink.

"Is everything okay?" Felix hears himself asking. Your lips twisted into a humourless smile, and you reached into your pocket to pull out a pocketbook of cigarettes.

"Peachy," you say bitterly, "do you have a light? I usually wouldn't ask but these pants are stupidly tight and it's going to be a hassle to get my own."

"Downside to looking that good I guess," Felix steps forward, rummaging around in his jacket pocket to find his lighter. What he's said doesn't hit him until you're leaning in to light your cigarette from his offered fire, but it seems you hadn't quite heard him, to preoccupied with your thoughts, "are you on your way out tonight?" Felix tries again, and you take a long draft, thanking him quietly as your expression scrunched up with a thoughtful kind of irritation.

"Is getting absolutely pissed tonight the smartest move? Absolutely not," you huffed, jaw set in a firm line, "am I going to do it anyways? You fucking bet." Then, you turn to him, eyebrows raised, "what about you, Catton?"

Felix kind of feels like you'd just smacked him. What?

"How did you know -?"

"Heard your name a dozen times over the week, we're in the same course," you offered easily. This Felix knew, however the alarm bells in Felix's mind just started ringing louder. There was something about you now, something almost too casual about how you choose to look away, take another sip of your drink.

"Pretty sure they only asked for our first names," he frowns. There's something rather dreadful the way you look at him out of the corner of your eye, smile curling at the edges of your lips like you're pleased.

"Perceptive one, aren't you?" The tone of your voice makes him feel like he's won the world's worst prize. Pushing off of the wall, you make a start towards him, and the path off of campus. You shove your hands in the pockets of your leather jacket as you pass, "walk with me, Felix Catton," you called out to him as he watches you pass.

He thinks you might be a trickster spirit, attempting to steal his soul. Or maybe you're just going to kill him.

For some stupid reason, he still chooses to walk with you.

He really tries not to dwell on how unsettling it was that you seemed to know more about him than you let on. He's pretty sure he recognises you from somewhere, perhaps you'd recognised him too, and you'd simply remembered.

"You're Y/N," your last name, however, does not come to mind. You confirmed easily, offering him a cigarette. He doesn't need to prompt for your last name, thankfully; you offer it. Somehow, it still doesn't feel like an equal exchange. There's several minutes of silence, broken only by the gentle sound of gravel crunching beneath both your feet, and the occasional sip you take of your drink. Finally, Felix asks who Decker is.

"Twenty stone worth of bigotry shoved into the most weasly looking cunt you've ever seen in your life," you muttered darkly, though the wording shocks a laugh from Felix, and your anger softens at the sound, wearing a pleased little grin when you look over to him, "he knows I check everything, especially his shit since I don't trust him, don't know how he thought he could pull a fast one on me like that."

"What kind of work do you do?"

"It's just the family business," you shrugged off the question with ease, "I've been helping dad out with it for years, so he's asked me to take care of a few things while he's on holiday."

"Local paper?"

"What?"

"You were talking about something going to print on Monday, does your family run a local paper back home?" When Felix's question is met with silence, he looks to you. He wasn't expecting to see you looking suddenly uncomfortable.

"Something like that," was all you offered, evasively. There's another beat of silence before you seem to shrug off your discomfort, giving him a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes, "our parents are friends," direct and to the point, "I used to see you at," you paused for a moment, deliberating, adding carefully, "parties." Eyes bright, there's still something careful beneath that in the way you're watching him. Parties, you say when he knows you meant events. The formal kind he fucking hated. Huh.

"That's where you got my name from," his relief, however, is short-lived when he sees the strange look you give him. But in the next minute it's gone, and you're looking out to the road ahead.

"Exactly."

For reasons Felix can't put into words, there's not a single part of him that believes you.

#felix catton x reader #saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #manic writer #ceo au #felix imagine #felix x reader #felix x you

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starwarsbian · 11 hours

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stonerboyfriend!anakin <3

this is gonna be smut pls avert your eyes if you’re -18!

enjoy these hot gifs of sam monroe but just.. he is my modern anakin mkay!

your boyfriend, anakin, gets you high in his bedroom and rails you while his halloween party is happening downstairs

3k words and NOT proofread

cw :weed, fingering, oral (f! receiving), spit, shotgunning, intoxicated sex, he fucks u with his rings on, scratching until he bleeds, p in v, unprotected sex, breeding kinda

halloween party thrown by ur weirdo emo bf anakin, music is blaring and he has you pulled up against his body: your back against his chest and ass pressing circles against his hips. he sways with you and curses into your neck at the feeling of your hips against his cock..

“fuck.. that’s good. this is so good. you’re perfect. i can’t wait to get you upstairs.”

with that he spins you around and crashes your lips together; teeth almost clashing but it’s mostly just panting in between him languidly.. sucking on your tongue.

it is absolutely intoxicating and ani tastes like weed. you don’t even care that you’re in front of people right now as he grabs your ass.

“come upstairs and smoke with me, baby,” he grins at you and pulls you towards the stairs.

you’re both laughing and excited when you get into his room. the walls are covered in posters and his bed up against the wall isn’t made. other than that it’s not really messy. ani’s bong sits on his night stand and he sits down on the bed.

“wait here, the water is really dirty i don’t want you to have to taste that. deserve better than that,” as he walks to the bathroom.

it’s a nice gesture but really his bong is filthy regardless of any clean water. his grinder is sitting on the table as well, he picks it up and opens it to pack the bowl.

“ah, yes. what a gentlemen.”

“shut up. i didn’t think you’d want to do it? you said it’s annoying before. just shhh, stop being a brat.”

he goes to hand you the bong but you stop him, “will you light it for me, ani?” looking at him with your best doe eyes. it’s far from necessary as you smoke together all the time but it’s intimate and you kind of hope it turns him on more.

he rolls his eyes at you but tells you yes anyway. he lights the bowl for you as you pull smoke into the bong and when he thinks it’s enough for one hit he takes the bowl out; breaking the closed loop of air inside so you can actually inhale it.

he smiles at you as you exhale and cough a few times. he does the same process for himself as you recover.

“you look pretty like this; you really always look pretty when we’re smoking. there’s something about it that’s just hot.”

you take the bong back and look at him confused, even though you know what he means because you could seriously watch him do this all day. the ways his hands look, his mouth pressed against the glass, how he relaxes on his exhales, when he also coughs and looks at you with low glossy eyes.

“yeah, right. don’t make fun of me,” you pout.

“shhh, i’m not. hit this, i’ll light it again for you, pretty girl.”

you do exactly as he says and he brushes your hair behind your ear; making sure it’s not near the flame. you do the normal inhale and exhale, feeling the burning in your throat but nodding to anakin for him to light it for you again; with his right hand.

his left slides up your thigh; you’re sitting criss-cross on his bed even though you’re wearing a skirt. you didn’t even think about it but anakin noticed; seeing just a flash of your panties when you’ve shifted around on the bed. he starts massaging your thigh; gripping and pressing against your skin. you’re smiling as you pass the bong back to him. he takes his hands back and empties the cashed bowl into his ashtray.

“another one, babe?” he asks you.

“yes, actually. if you don’t mind, ani.”

“mmm-mm,” he says shaking his head as he for some reason has the bag of weed in between his teeth. you don’t ask; maybe just think about how you wish it was you he was biting. “i don’t mind.”

the whole process of smoking with ani is always relaxing and repetitive. he really doesn’t make you do anything. if you wanted he’d let you lay in his bed while he does everything but actually breathe. sometimes he’ll do the breathing part too though.

the bowl is packed and he lights it, going to hit it for himself first but instead of actually breathing it into his lungs he holds the smoke he can in his mouth and pulls you towards him. anakin gets his lips so close to yours you might as well be kissing as he holds your cheek and blows the smoke into your mouth. you breathe it all in greedily before kissing him and exhaling from your nose so you hopefully don’t choke. by some miracle you don’t! it goes smoothly and anakin kisses you back until you break the kiss, gasping for air.

his hands are back on your thighs again and he faces you with the biggest smile on his face. “you’re so hot that i can’t even think,” he says.

you giggle and reach for the bong to hit by yourself. he’s moving closer and closer to touching your center but stops to tease and ask for consent.

“i wanna touch you, baby. let me tease you and make you feel good.”

“we’re smoking! wouldn’t want this to go to waste”, you say, teasing him.

“yeah, sure, whatever. let’s smoke more…i love touching you when you’re high and all you can do is babble and whine, anyway. one of my favorite ways to have you.”

you take turns hitting the piece through three more bowls. by the time you’re finished, your throat burns and you’re practically buzzing with excitement for how good this high sex is going to be with anakin. this entire time he’s been playing with your thighs and touching the wet spot in your panties with whatever part of his hand he wants. he tries using his thumb, then his index, then his middle, then both of them; he presses harder or softer depending on what part of smoking you’re on because he really doesn’t want to ruin the mood by making you choke on smoke.

“are you done? i want you on my lap,” he whispers into your ear. sitting the bong down for the last time, you allow him to grab your hips and pull you onto him. he’s laying on his bed with his back up against the headboard. his thumbs press hard into your hips and you moan at the feeling.

anakin presses his lips to yours. they’re soft and warm against yours. you grind your hips down onto his and feel the cold metal of the chain on his jeans against your thigh. his head falls back with his mouth open at the pressure against his cock. he can feel the pooling of precum on his tip already. watching you put your pretty lips on his bong and suck reminded him way too much of how you give him head. he wonders if that just makes him a pervert.

anakin slips his hands under your shirt and reaches up to pinch both of your nipples. you hiss at the sensation and slap his hands away. “too rough, ani. touch me softer there. be rough other places instead.”

“sorry, baby..i just got carried away. i know that’s what you prefer. let me kiss it better. huh?” he asks as he pulls your shirt off. you nod and put your fingers into his hair as he lowers his mouth down to your left nipple. his tongue piercing drags heavy across the area with the metal providing a stark difference in sensation compared to his soft tongue and mouth. he switches to the other, being careful not to neglect either side.

anakin messily drags his tongue up your chest and onto your neck. he latches onto your skin and sucks; ani gives dark hickeys every time even though he says he tries to be gentle. he leaves you covered in blooming blurry bruises from his mouth. he’s using his teeth and Scraping across your flesh. there’s a pinching sensation that’s quickly soothed by his tongue swiping over the spot of irritation. the blood vessels in your breast are below such thin skin that the marks he leaves there would look concerning. those ones come out a pretty purple color with dark shades of red and eventually yellow as they heal. he’s so rough that the marked there always hurt like real bruises the next day. any bruises anakin leaves on you he loves to dig his fingers into the next time he fucks you. maybe that’s why he’s squeezing your hips so hard.

he switched places with you; making you lie on the bed while he kisses and bites his way down your body. he desperately grabs at your body like you’re going to run away from him and you think about it as he sinks his teeth down hard on your hip and then your inner thigh and then the other inner thigh. each time makes you rip on his hair harder trying to get him to let go. he thinks it’s cute but the hair pulling really just makes him want to be even more mean to you.

anakin absolutely adores you but he’s high and he’s horny and wants to make you cry.

with his mouth inches from your clit he pulls your panties to the side and breathes warm air onto your cunt, sending shivers up your spine. “c’mon, anakin. give me your tongue..give me your fingers or your cock just do something i’m right here for you and i need you, god damn it.”

he decides he’s going to make you pay for running your little whore mouth later but for now he takes your panties off. he starts to akes them off really slow and nips behind where the fabric last touched and he taps your hip to tell you to lift up.

you do as he says and he obnoxiously throws them over his shoulder before dropping back down between your thighs.

you’re ridiculously wet but that always happens with anakin. he loves to tease you about it and take time to “clean up his mess” he says. his tongue presses between your folds; warm and wet and soft in a very different way to the way his fingers had been touching you. he spreads you a little to give you open mouthed kisses on your clit before he takes the bud into his mouth and sucks softly.

he closes his eyes and focuses on how you taste, dipping his tongue down to gather your slick. with his lips around your clit, he sucks harder and it makes your hips buck up and your hands pull at his dyed hair.

“fuck, anakin. easy, please?” you ask of him.

he shakes his head from between your thighs and slaps your left one really hard without even thinking about it.

“i’m busy? stop complaining.”

he spits on your pussy before he goes back to sucking and licking everywhere he wants. wet, soft circles are being drawn by him around your clit now while he brings his middle finger to your hole. he does circles around it as he looks up at you for permission.

“yes. yes, please.”

he smiles against your thigh and pushes into you up to last knuckle. you feel what seems like an extra bump around his finger? he’s left his rings on.

“what, baby? is something wrong?”

“it’s just—“ you’re cut off as he presses up into your g-spot.”

“it’s what? use your words.”

“your ring.. you didn’t take it off. you didn’t take any of them off.”

he adds his index finger— with another ring still on it.

“you like it. i can tell that you like it. probably wanted to feel them before this and wouldn’t even tell me,” he says.

it seems they’re just plain bands as there’s no unpleasant scraping and you decide to let him keep going. you’re blushing, though.

“yes, i like it. i’m not objecting, am i?”you say, arching into his hand.

anakin takes to the approach of reaching deep into you and letting the rings be pressing up against the spot you really like. he thinks it’s so hot, seeing you wrap around his fingers. your wetness has his entire hand slick as he speeds up.

“anakin..anakin…oh my god. im close,” you whine.

he immediately removes his fingers and puts them into his mouth to suck them clean. now he removes his rings and leans back down to you, kissing you roughly. he’s using his teeth again, biting and pulling hard on your bottom lip that’s surely swollen by now.

“i want you to cum on my cock, not my fingers. not now at least.”

he shoves you roughly back down on his bed and takes his shirt off revealing his smooth skin and making your heart speed up like usual. crashing his lips into you he grinds himself onto your center, jeans still on.

“anakin,” you whine, “give it to me. i’ve been so good. i’m so high and horny and stupid for you. please fuck me.”

hopping off the bed he unbottons his jeans and takes his boxers off with them. he’s so pretty, all of him. his cock is gorgeous and he loves when you suck him off but you’re begging for him so he doesn’t wait.

the bed creaks as he gets back on and kisses you, lifting your leg up to be bent over his arm as holds it up for you. he pushes into you and you drag your nails across his back hard.

anakin loves when you hurt him during sex and moans at the burning sensation left in your wake. So with each thrust into you, you rake nails down his back.

“do it harder. scratch me harder, make me bleed, baby. please,” he whines into your ear. “it’ll feel so good for me right now, and i’ll be reminded of fucking you like this for days because it stings. don’t you want that?”

you absolutely did. you nod and he speeds up his pace; he’s pounding into you now. he’s not going to fast that it hurts but his skin hits yours over and over. with almost every stroke you’re tearing his skin apart. scratches you’ve already made sting extra for him as you go back over and it makes him hiss.

“god.. that’s so good. you’re such a good girl. you take my cock so well; don’t you love when i split you open like this? you’re lucky the music is so loud or i think everyone would hear the noises you’ve been making for me.”

he stops and tells you to turn over. anakin presses your face down into the pillows and lines his hips up with yours. he’s holding down the center of your back, keeping you in this deep arch. when he starts to fuck you again it’s forceful and so unbelievably deep. you forget how far in he can go in the right position but you can feel in your stomach each time he touches your cervix.

you’re clenching and begging for him to make you cum when he reaches around to touch your swollen clit. as he drills into you from behind he rubs soothing circles on it. the mix of internal and external stimulation making the muscles in your core tense up. you’re even tighter around his cock although he’s sliding in and out like he was made to fit in you.

pulling you against his chest you both sit up, his knees in between yours holding your legs open while he fucks up into you.

he’s gripping your hair and forcing the air out of your lungs as you gasp and shove yourself further onto him. your slick is dripping onto his balls in this position and your pussy is making obscene noises.

“you’re so fucking wet. do you hear that? you let me get you stoned and wreck your hole with all of our friends just downstairs? do you know any of them could come up here and knock, trying to find us? i bet they could hear your cunt through the door if they tried to, or at the very least the sound of my bed frame about to put a hole in the wall from how hard i’m ruining your little cunt.”

your head is so fuzzy with pleasure you don’t even care. he can do anything he wants at this point and you wouldn’t object.

the knot building in your stomach is getting tighter and tighter and each swipe of anakin’s finger against your clit has you on the verge of tears.

“ani. ani, i’m gonna make a mess all over your cock. you’re going to make me cum. please don’t stop.”

he pants in time with each thrust and holds you close.

“i’m not stopping, angel. so hot that you let me use you like this. cum on my cock, baby. show me how good i make you feel.”

you fall apart as he holds you up and try to close your thighs, try to get him out when it becomes too much.

he forces them open and shoves your face down into the mattress to keep using your whole like a fuck toy. as soon as 10 thrusts later though he’s babbling about how he’s going to fill you up.

“i’m gonna cum. i’m gonna stuff you full, fuck it deeper until it hurts. oh, fuck,” anakin chokes on his last words. he fills you to the point it’s dripping out.

both of you taking deep breaths, he uses his finger to push it back into you while you gasp at the intrusion of your hole so soon.

“okay, baby,” he says. “let’s smoke some more so you let me keep going.”

#anakin skywalker #anakin smut #star wars smut #anakin x reader #anakin x you #stoner!anakin #modern au

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astral-mariner · 3 days

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Vegeta's Mother Headcanons/Backstory (with Lots of Saiyan Culture Worldbuilding)

As promised to @blueper-saiyan, here is the backstory I've made up for Vegeta's mom and some of the royal family! I've literally thought about writing a saiyan Game of Thrones style fic about how King Vegeta came to power and how Vegeta's mother became queen. If, after reading some of the backstory, such a fic sounds fun to read, I might write it someday. Let me know!

(This post came up as part of a wider discussion about saiyan cultural/religious differences. Read here if you're interested, but the post will only enhance this one, and you don't need to read it for the backstory to make sense.)

To begin with some general information about how royal succession functions: There are four nations on Vegeta-sei, each with their own lands and cultural identities. When the heir to the throne reaches an age equal to three cycles of Vegeta-sei's moon (25 Earth years, roughly), they are bound to one consort from each nation. These consorts are within one moon cycle of the heir's age and can be any sex; measured strength at birth/assigned social class determines who is selected. (Anyone, however, can challenge the selected consort for their right to be bound to the heir apparent. If the challenger defeats the one originally selected in a duel, the challenger then becomes the new consort.) The "wedding" itself takes place in the weeks leading up to the first nights of the full moon after the heir turns 25.

The role of royal consort is a political one as much as it is about producing heirs for the royal family. Indeed, the consorts are not always reproductively compatible with the heir apparent. (This plays into another web of headcanons I have: gender/sex isn't really a big deal in saiyan cultures; they care far more about class/strength, and even the way they speak reflects this. Saiyago refers to people by class and not by sex/gender; there are no gendered pronouns.) The consorts function, essentially, as representatives for their nations. They are the highest ranking nobles/elites of their respective countries. The position comes with considerable political power and influence. There are motives, then, for someone to want to become a royal consort even if they cannot produce children with the heir.

Obviously, though, producing royal children is one of the main purposes of a consort. Those that are reproductively compatible with the heir are expected to engage in the necessary activities. And the consort who provides the crown with the strongest child assumes the title of king/queen consort, granting both that consort and the nation they represent special privileges, power, and influence. So even if there are motives for someone to want to be a consort regardless of reproductive compatibility, compatible consorts are preferred most of the time, and incompatible ones are often challenged. (Or, alternatively, certain conniving nobles might manipulate power level/class archives to ensure the person they want is "chosen by the gods" to stand at the side of the crown. Lots of fun GoT style shit here.)

So this brings us to Vegeta's mother:

She was the strongest (still living) saiyan born in one of the four nations within an appropriate age range to the heir apparent. Specifically, she is from the nation of people who occupy a collection of islands near one of the planet's poles. As mentioned in the long post I linked, this nation centers Oozaru transformation in their cultural/spiritual consciousness as opposed to SSJ transformation. The primal beast vs. the Enlightened Warrior. People from her country speak of a special bond to the moon goddess because, due to their location at the pole, they experience seasonal polar night. Whole seasons of nothing but the moonlit sky, and alternatively, seasons where they are waiting for the goddess rule the sky again.

And because they center the more wild, primal, and impassioned transformation, they are at odds with the culture in the royal city and the (most populous and influential) nation that surrounds it that centers SSJ transformation which is, supposedly, passionless and enlightened (in the Eastern sense). The unique cultural practices, powers, and techniques the people from Vegeta's mother's lands boast are therefore looked upon with skepticism by most other saiyans. Most saiyans don't know what to do with this essentially foreign group of people from sparsely populated polar isles who have strange ways. Some of them are even rumored to sense ki without scouters. The most powerful of them can even dissolve the borders of their mind as happens under the moonlight so they can communicate to others without speaking, soul to soul. (It's mild telepathy, basically. Speaking with the mind, being able to share thoughts/dreams; very skilled people might even be able to read others' minds in a limited capacity.)

And Vegeta's mother is one of those exceptionally gifted saiyans from this country/culture. But nobody cares or finds out about this until later. Because...King Vegeta was not the original heir to whom she would've been betrothed. The saiyan who became King Vegeta was a weaker/lesser royal child. One of his sisters, however, was the crown princess. And she was batshit insane.

King Vegeta's sister was exceptionally cruel. Even for a saiyan. And she came from a long line of rulers who were almost as cruel and insane as she was. Her lineage, in fact, is part of the reason saiyans are infamous throughout the galaxy. She and other corrupt royals/elites don't fight because fighting is what saiyans do. They don't fight for the sake of itself. They fight to shed blood, to kill, to revel in others' pain, destruction, and misery. The sadism is the point, not the art and joy of fighting. And they don't kill in a cold, unattached way. They rape and pillage because they are consumed with bloodlust, they get off on hurting others, and they are strong enough that few can stop them.

(Another topic I could write a whole other long post about: There is certainly considerable disagreement among different saiyan cultures about what their "fighting nature" actually entails. Is it about the excellence in craft? Is it about spiritual enlightenment? Is it about feeling at one with the body, the opponent, and the universe? Or...is it about defeating and destroying your rival? Is it about being the strongest? Is it about pain and domination? There are competing narratives for what the Ideal Saiyan looks like and about how that saiyan would fight. For someone like King Vegeta's sister, she and most of her family lean more towards fighting-for-domination/bloodlust because power has gone to their heads and warped them into something monstrous.)

And (not yet) King Vegeta sees all of this, and because he's one of the weaker children of his family, he faces considerable abuse. Naturally, he tries to prove himself by showing exceptional cruelty of his own, waging wars and conquering planets... But he never actually wins the approval of his family or the rest of the elite class. He becomes somewhat estranged. He comes to resent and look down on his parents and his sister especially. He sees their monstrous ways and turns away from them not because he sees their actions as evil, but because he comes to see their hearts as impure. He listens to the words and warnings of religious extremists around the royal city's temples who condemn the nobility for their impassioned bloodlust where they should instead be cold and tranquil when they fight. He becomes a bit of a fanatic himself.

Then his sister reaches the age where she's to be bound to consorts. And the moon festival is approaching and therefore her "wedding." She doesn't treat the consorts chosen for her like the esteemed nobles they are, however. She captures them and tortures them publicly to put fear in the hearts of everyone in their countries. On the night of her "wedding," she makes a humiliating display of them in the royal city's moon temple. It's pretty obvious that, once the ceremony is performed, she's intending to rape her consorts and perhaps kill the ones who can't provide children for her. Vegeta's mother is one of these consorts.

Vegeta's father is fucking disgusted by all of this. His sister is doing something absolutely sacrilege. She's using power in the most impure way possible, and she's literally desecrating altars doing so. It sets him the fuck off. He's watching the beginnings of the "wedding ceremony," but it's the last straw. While everyone's caught up in what's happening, he comes to the front of the temple and blasts his sister straight through the heart before she can touch any of the consorts, killing her instantly. And he doesn't stop there. He goes positively feral and kills every single member of the royal family while everyone is too shocked or drunk/high to defeat him even though he's not the strongest based on power level alone.

Covered in the blood of the king, queen, and all of his siblings, Vegeta's father calls upon any "righteous" saiyan to purge the royal lands of corruption. Certain religious extremists are all too happy to oblige (the tailless ascetic order from the other post is certainly included here). They begin with powerful elite families known to be close to the crown, murdering their figureheads and heirs. And even some lower-class saiyans join in on the bloodshed. Many of them despise the royal family and the elite nobility for degrading and abusing them. (Some particularly wicked nobles make slaves of low-class saiyans, treating them like aliens/animals; some of them even take children from low-class families to slake their most despicable lusts. While might-makes-right may be pretty commonplace in saiyan culture, I think it's still extremely feasible that those who get the short end of that stick would come to acknowledge that power does not justify every action, and that, especially among low-class saiyans, things like rape and murder of other saiyans are seen as traumatic and wrong as well as shameful acts to commit most of the time.)

The nights of the full moon, then, become a massive fucking bloodbath. Vegeta's father and those loyal to him massacre pretty much half of the nobility. And he, naturally, assumes the throne after the moon festival is over. He is at once respected and feared. He maintains his religious fanaticism and imposes it on the nobility. In some ways, he is just as iron-fisted and cruel as his predecessors, but it has an entirely different flavor. He follows the laws to the letter, taking them very seriously and giving them intense spiritual weight. He strives to emulate the model of the SSJ Enlightened Warrior and considers it his calling as dictated by the gods because they appointed him king.

And while he's not morally "good" by any stretch, and his religion/philosophy definitely leads him to commit some truly heinous acts, he's nevertheless "better" in many ways than his sister or his parents. Nobles who, for example, would have before taken low-class children to abuse are instead punished severely and pay dearly for their "impurity." (It kind of makes sense that someone like King Vegeta who faced significant childhood abuse from his family would consider taking advantage of certain kinds of vulnerable people to be weak and shameful---a corruption of strength.) And while King Vegeta isn't necessarily loved by all low-class saiyans, he's probably more popular than many of his predecessors were. Yes, he still ships off weak children, he still enforces the strict caste system (perhaps even more strictly than those before him too), and he still conquers planets and seeks out powerful opponents to destroy, but he does it with a certain spiritual sincerity.

Then it becomes time for him to take consorts. He's in a pretty unique situation where he's already king before he's "married." After the murder of his sister on her "wedding night," he frees the consorts from their bondage and tells them they can return to their homelands until the gods call upon them to perform their duties. They are more than happy to get the fuck out of the royal city for a while, naturally. But when the next moon festival is approaching, those selected are asked to return. One or two of the consorts his sister would've "wed" had perhaps fallen in battle, but most of them are the same, including Vegeta's mother.

Vegeta's mother and her homeland had been happy, initially, that she hadn't been reproductively compatible with the original heir, King Vegeta's sister. The moon-worshiping people wanted as little to do with the royal city as possible so they could govern their own lands in relative isolation. Now, however, her position as consort carries with it an implicit obligation.

In the years leading up to the next moon festival, Vegeta's mother of course visits the royal city a number of times given that she's an important noble personality. But she doesn't spend most of her time there and only goes when absolutely necessary. She crosses paths with the king, naturally, but avoids him if she can. She remembers, however, the night where he, essentially, saved both her life and her honor (though this was not his primary reason for freeing her). Even so, she's been bracing for the king to go insane like his predecessors. Perhaps bracing herself for him to force himself on her in some way. She doesn't trust him. She doesn't trust anyone outside of her homeland.

But the king is strictly business with her even if he does watch her. She's mysterious; he hardly sees her. She doesn't look like many other people in the royal city. She has different manners, beliefs, and even speaks a different dialect of Saiyago (though she can code-switch and speak the standard royal city dialect as well). She has a small, very feminine frame despite having a very formidable power level. It makes her more terrifying in some ways---that her power comes to her effortlessly, that she doesn't need physical strength or size to wield as much might as she does. She is regarded as extremely beautiful and is compared even to depictions of the moon goddess. Her being from the moon-worshiping polar isles reinforces this connection as well; she has an air of pagan magic about her, and her beauty as well as her strange ways/fighting techniques have this spellbinding or bewitching quality to them in saiyan cultural consciousness.

And her beauty, mystery, and foreign background make her the subject of scorn among many nobles throughout the royal lands. They don't want a pagan queen. Especially since the nobles that remain are ones that are more in line with the religious fanaticism of King Vegeta. The king has very recently purged the nobility of corrupt heretics, people who gave themselves over to shameful bloodlust and made no attempt to purify their hearts and live up to the Saiyan Ideal. And the prospect of having someone who is all about losing yourself and becoming the wild Oozaru become their queen is threatening. Many assume, too, that King Vegeta simply won't favor Vegeta's mother for these political reasons and will instead produce heirs with his other consorts.

That doesn't stop King Vegeta from developing a huge fucking crush on her, though. She's drop-dead gorgeous and incredibly powerful. She doesn't fawn over him or try to win his favor. She steers clear of him, and when they do have to interact, she doesn't filter her foreign/pagan sensibilities whatsoever to be pleasing. She always approaches him as herself and comes off strong. She even outright opposes or argues with him when matters of governance/policy arise. She makes very clear that her people don't care for the traditional caste system or how children are measured for their power at birth. She reminds him that the strongest and most wise of her people can sense hidden abilities in others' souls that scouters can't capture with a mere number.

Ironically, though, Vegeta's mother approaching King Vegeta sincerely as herself makes him fall for her even harder. Those precious few times she sees him in the royal city become almost special occasions for him; he waits for her, he looks forward to seeing her even if he's out of touch with it. He relishes their philosophical debates. As someone who takes his "divine" calling very seriously, he admires her own spiritual passion and sincerity even though they disagree on some basic things and have very different ideas about what the Ideal Saiyan looks/fights like. He makes excuses to talk to her and spend time with her. He probably even constructs situations where he is forced to consider her political input. He desires her and feels that the gods gave their blessing for him to desire her by choosing her for him. She, however, rejects even the smallest advances very strongly. And he, nothing like his sister in this respect, does not punish her or pressure her to accept him. He carries on with his other royal duties.

As the moon festival and therefore the official royal "wedding" approaches, however, Vegeta's mother eventually refuses even to attend the ceremony. (Makes sense, after all---last time, an insane princess meant to torture, rape, and murder her.) Many elites encourage other people from the polar isles to challenge her, replacing her with someone who will not shirk their duties. Elites hostile to the moon-worshipers call for her capture and possible execution. King Vegeta, though, requests only that she attend the ceremony if no one will challenge her and vows that she may return to her homeland once it is over, and neither he nor anyone will touch her under pain of death. She eventually accepts this offer. Her limited interactions with the king have at least shown her that he is generally a man of his word, and she will be able to maintain her political influence over him while getting to stay in her homeland and not fear retribution.

The ceremony takes place and is a very somber affair. Think the most traditional, by-the-book royal wedding ever (just with more fighting because they are saiyans). Vegeta's mother returns to the polar isles the very night the ceremony is over, though, as the moon festival nights are sacred to her people, and she has no desire to spend them in the royal city. The king lets her go as promised. The other nations are happy to see her go, as the more time the king spends with his other consorts, the higher the likelihood that the consort that represents them becomes queen. The king does indeed spend the first few nights in the royal city as expected. But...he does something scandalous before the moon festival is over.

He goes to the polar isles. He participates in some of their festival activities (ritual Oozaru transformations, battles, hunts, and sacrifices). He frames it as a gesture of political good will, saying that he will be a king to all saiyans no matter their nation or favored gods/goddesses. He strives to live up to the example of his Super Saiyan ancestors and will seek strength and wisdom in whatever form the gods will reveal it to him. Even if it means listening to pagan moon-worshipers and hearing what they have to say, what knowledge and power they have to impart. He means it sincerely, but his gesture was obviously inspired by his preoccupation with Vegeta's mother.

He doesn't make any attempt to get close to her personally, but he does transform under the moon with her. And afterwards, when some time has passed and he asks her to come to the royal city, she accepts.

She tells herself it's in service to her nation. Not in many generations have they had the crown at their mercy like this. She knows she has the power to influence how saiyan life itself is ordered. She still may not want to give King Vegeta a child or become queen, but she does want to take advantage of the opportunity his favor affords her.

She's there when Freeza and King Cold first contact the saiyans. It's obvious to anyone who was in direct contact with Freeza just how powerful he is, how much manipulative leverage he holds... But Vegeta's mother can sense something is deeply off about him and the entire situation. She's fully aware that Freeza will straight up destroy everyone if they don't enter his service. And she doesn't have the same delusional pride that the king does. She knows he's going to have to bend the knee if they mean to survive. It's because of her influence that King Vegeta doesn't enter a doomed war with Freeza at the start. She helps him acclimate the people to their new "alliance"---emphasizes better access to technology like scouters, healing tanks, ships, and incubation pods. She's a much better and more natural ruler than King Vegeta is, in fact. She brings a certain "humanity" (saiyanity?) to the role---it's about safeguarding the people and their way of life, not about proving that she personally is the strongest.

Naturally, this pivotal political role she plays brings her and King Vegeta closer together. She'd already been developing feelings for him slowly. She already knew he was different after he killed his entire family and spared her from their wickedness. And as she got to know him better, she really came to admire his own sincerity just as he admired hers. They are both deeply spiritual people even though they have different beliefs, and they have an understanding of each other. And the time they spent under the moonlight together was, after all, quite romantic even if saiyans don't really have "romance" the way humans do.

She admits to herself after a while that she's attracted to him. Sure, part of her definitely enjoys being queen in all but actual title. She enjoys how hopelessly this extremely powerful and austere man bends to her every whim and worships her as if she were actually the moon goddess herself and had indeed bewitched him like all the rumors say she has. Even against his better political judgment or his religious sensibilities. He can't help but revere and admire her. You know, saiyans having a thing for strong women.

She's the one who goes to him first. She tells herself initially that it's merely to consolidate her power, her hold on the king. He, of course, can't resist her and just completely fucking melts for her when she commands him to meet her in her bedchambers. But it's clear that it's neither about duty nor politics as they continue to be intimate. They are in love with each other. They connect on a soul level.

She eventually does become pregnant, though it is no guarantee that she will become queen even if she does provide the crown with a child. She would have to produce the strongest child to be crowned queen, after all, and sometimes which child is strongest does not become apparent until later. But...when Vegeta is born, he's leagues ahead of the other children that had been born already (he has a number of half-siblings). He's the strongest royal child born as far as the archives go back. It's unprecedented, but he's named heir to the throne immediately, and his mother assumes the title of queen at the same time he is named crown prince.

That Vegeta's mother bore him such a powerful son just makes King Vegeta fall that much more in love with her. He takes it as a sign, even, that the gods rewarded him for his piety. That he had done the right thing by murdering his entire family (as much as it still hurt to do, deep down, even if he'd never admit it). That perhaps his son was born so strong because the two sides of saiyan nature were for once at harmony with each other, the Oozaru and the Super Saiyan, just as he, descended from the Super Saiyans, learned to love and fight alongside his moon-worshiping consort. He dares to hope that maybe Prince Vegeta will become strong enough to overthrow Freeza and cast off the shame of servitude.

But there's trouble in paradise. The nobles from the other nations are absolutely appalled that the moon-worshiper from the tiny, pagan population of the polar isles has become queen. Many of them do actually think that she put the king under a spell to do her bidding. They don't like that her battle partner, Nappa, was originally low-class (but elevated once the queen came to the royal city---another cultural difference; it's not as taboo for nobles to have low-class partners in the polar isles because their caste sensibilities are not as strict). The fact that the king bent the knee to Freeza just makes things worse. He's weak. He'll lead them to ruin. He's easily manipulated. He listened to a sorceress instead of his own integrity and pride by submitting to Freeza where he should have instead gone to war and proven his strength as his ancestors did before him.

There's unrest among the lower-class saiyans too. Freeza ships them off to faraway planets for degrading assignments. He takes saiyan children to his planet, and they never return. They hate Freeza even if they are encouraged to be grateful for the battles and resources the Planet Trade affords them. They resent the royal family even if the prince is so strong that they can't help but be inspired.

Several elites challenge the queen to fight. She proves victorious each time, however. And this only infuriates her detractors and rivals even more. Eventually, there are plots to dispose of her via less than honorable means. There are assassination attempts. Those that are caught are of course tortured and executed. But...sadly, one of the attempts succeeds. The queen falls ill, and poison is suspected. She begins to deteriorate rapidly, but she doesn't die immediately. Her body resists the illness, and she lingers for a time even if she knows that, ultimately, her death will be inevitable and painful.

King Vegeta, understandably, goes on a fucking rampage. But there's a distraction. Freeza attends a tournament to decide who will become Prince Vegeta's battle partner, and he finds Prince Vegeta himself to be rather remarkable. Soon afterwards, he demands that King Vegeta send the prince to "visit" him on his home planet. He wants to take the prince in and mentor him as a mark of the "friendship" between Vegeta-sei and the Cold Empire.

The queen, however, does not want to give her son over to Freeza. She fucking knows how that will go down. She can feel it. Vegeta will be examined, experimented on, tortured, treated as a pet and a slave. She doubts that the SSJ legends are even real; she's of the opinion that it's just another interpretation of the Oozaru. So she's under no illusion that Vegeta will transform and save them all from Freeza at just the right moment. She knows he's just a little boy at the end of the day, however strong he is already.

Plus...she knows she's dying, and she doesn't want her son taken away from her. She doesn't want her last days to be spent knowing she gave him over to a monster. But at the same time...she also knows that, if Freeza doesn't take Vegeta, then it will put the entire planet in danger. She takes a page from the king's book and tells herself that she'll have to set her personal feelings aside to do what is rational even if it isn't quite right. So she requests only that the king doesn't let Freeza take Vegeta until after she's gone.

The king, meanwhile, is in fucking denial that she's dying at all. He doesn't want to believe it. He's caught up in his feelings about it. He's caught up, too, in the fear and dread their oh-so-tenuous relationship with Freeza is. He says he'll go to war with Freeza. That he won't let him take their son at all. But they both know that they have to. He copes with it by telling both himself and Vegeta that Freeza's "mentorship" and the opportunities his assignments will afford will make him stronger, will perhaps move him to transform when the time is right. The king doesn't explain to the child what he's really in for, just that he must be strong above all else. Vegeta's mother, though, probably tries to warn him in some capacity, as far as he is able to understand (he's about 4 Earth years old at this point).

Freeza, though, comes to collect Vegeta unannounced sooner than anyone expected. He is forcibly taken from his mother. She puts up a fight, but it's useless, and Vegeta ultimately goes to Freeza's home planet to begin his servitude. The queen dies soon afterwards, and when Vegeta returns to Vegeta-sei for the last time before the planet is destroyed, his mother is gone. He never got to see her again after the day he was taken away.

King Vegeta is consumed with grief and anger. He acts according to his worst impulses. Wages reckless wars, tortures people just to watch them suffer. It doesn't help that the person who was the actual political mastermind behind his regime (the queen) is gone. His rule is messy, and he becomes increasingly unhinged. He probably tries to make an incredibly stupid final stand. His actions certainly accelerate Freeza's plan to destroy him and the rest of the saiyans. And this is where all of this backstory catches up with where we meet young Vegeta in canon.

Anyway! There you have it, an epic backstory for Vegeta's mom and the royal family.

I made all of this up to be background stuff in my fic, but it's not just that. It's also there to show some of the internal conflicts going on in young Vegeta's character. He's caught between living up to the legends of his ancestors and his personal feelings just as his parents represent these two opposing interpretations of saiyan nature. He doesn't quite know how to reconcile these things within himself. His first years with Freeza, too, are colored by the loss of his mother and his father's becoming particularly strict and power-obsessed as a result of her death. This background story is in the fic is also there to tell the reader things about how saiyans conceptualize things like "romantic" relationships, what they consider beautiful. Besides all the stuff about religion, spirituality, and how saiyans construct morality, meaning, and enlightenment.

I hope this was fun to read!

#vegeta #king vegeta #saiyan queen #headcanons #saiyan lore

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